Welcome Home, Freya Arabella

It’s official: I am a grandparent! Last Tuesday, my son (and Boone County Journal reporter) Alex and his girlfriend Sarah welcomed a beautiful baby girl named Freya Arabella Naughton into the world. She is, of course, the most beautiful child to have ever been born in the history of children being born. (I am an opinion columnist, not a reporter like my son, therefore I am allowed to make such proclamations.)

Another proclamation: A pandemic is a hell of a time to have a baby.

Working as a substitute teacher at a primary school, I accept that I am at risk of being exposed to any number of pathogens, including the coronavirus. In order to keep myself, my students, my co-workers, and my family safe, I only remove my mask at school for a few minutes when I eat lunch, I wash my hands more than a surgeon, and I use hand sanitizer so often that it peels the flesh from my hands. When I get home after school, I immediately change clothes and wash my hands, arms, and face thoroughly. I do everything I can to be safe.

Before going to the hospital to meet Freya for the first time, I took the additional precaution of taking a shower after school to make sure I was as germ-free as possible. At the hospital, I sanitized my hands when I got out of my car, when I walked intothe lobby, and again when I stepped into the room where Sarah and Freya were peacefully dozing.

Even though I was wearing a clean mask and clean clothes and had doused myself with enough alcohol-based sanitizer to cause me to fail a breathalyzer test, I decided not to hold my first grandbaby just yet. Although it took an amazing amount of effort to resist the urge to pick up precious Freya, I knew I would never be able to forgive myself if I would have unknowingly infected her with coronavirus.

I settled for gazing lovingly at my granddaughter as she slept. After another squirt of hand sanitizer, I did eventually place my hand on her tiny chest and felt her peacefully breathe in and out, in and out. This touch caused her to stir and briefly cry. It was a sound and a moment I will never forget for as long as I live. Freya’s cry was almost musical. The only sound I have ever heard that compares to the beauty of her newborn cry is the sound of her father’s.

While Bethany was giving birth to Alex, I saw panic on the face of a nurse as the doctor told us that our baby’s vitals were dropping. Ten-pound Alex was stuck, and they had to get him out immediately. There were two sounds that followed, neither of which will I ever forget. The first was the sound of Bethany’s tortured screams. I won’t describe what caused them. Thesecond, after a few moments of torturous waiting, was the sound of our son’s first cry. That sound made my knees buckle. Then it was my turn to cry.

Alex and Sarah brought baby Freya to our house to visit on Thursday, and everyone took turns holding her. Everyone except me. I was too worried about bringing something home from the kindergarten classroom I was teaching in that day. I took pictures while everyone else had their turn with the newest member of the family.

By Sunday, I decided that because I had been taking every precaution possible, I would hold my grandbaby the next chance I got. That night, Freya and her parents surprised us by deciding to pop in and stay with us for a few days. I finally got my chance to hold my little angel. She was definitely worth the wait.

Freya was wide awake as she lay in my arms, her beautiful eyes open and alert. We made eye contact, and even though I was wearing a mask, I’m pretty sure she could tell how happy her Pop was to be holding her. Then she promptly filled her diaper, and I gladly handed her back to her father.

 

I guess what they say is true; being a grandparent really is the best—even during a pandemic. Welcome home, Freya Arabella. Pop loves you.

Nonna’s Great Girl

My mother Donna, rest her soul, was a firm believer in the old English adage that children should be seen and not heard. To put it mildly, kids annoyed the hell out of her.

 

It would be slanderous to claim that my mom hated all children, however. In fact, she tolerated and/or loved three or fourchildren in her 61 years on this Earth, including my brother Blake, my sons Alex and Truman, and me of course.

Mom died of cancer before she could meet any of her three granddaughters, and I often wonder how she would have interacted with them. Would she have been as firm with them as she had been with her sons and her grandson Alex? (She died one month after we brought Truman home from China, depriving her of the pleasure of scolding yet another naughty Naughton boy.)

Bethany and I bought an ornate Chinese tea set for Mom before we adopted Truman, when we were still expecting to adopt a baby girl. We wanted to see Mom’s softer side emerge as she and her granddaughter enjoyed tea parties together. Unfortunately, it wasn’t until three years after Mom’s passing that we were finally able to bring home a daughter, our Tiana.

My brother and his wife eventually welcomed two more girls to the Naughton family, both of whom Nonna (Mom’s preferred grandparent title) would have absolutely adored. I’m certain that with the addition of the young Naughton girls, the number of children my mother loved/tolerated would have doubled.

By the time today’s newspaper has found its way into your mailbox, there will be another young Naughton girl in the world. As I write this, my son Alex and his girlfriend Sarah are making final preparations before going to the hospital where doctors will induce Sarah’s labor either Monday or Tuesday. As Alex was getting ready to leave the house a few minutes ago, I said the most surreal sentence of my life: “Son, the next time I see you, you will have a baby.”

 

Yes, I am going to be a grandparent!

I will not be Grandpa, Granddad, Grandfather, Grandpappy, or Gramps. I have chosen Pop as my title, although I will gladly answer to whatever name my granddaughter decides to call me. Bethany has requested to be referred to as Mimi, which is what Alex has called her since he was little. I dare you to call her Grandma or Grandmother. Or better yet; Granny. But before you do, please wait for me to make some popcorn first, because I don’t want to miss a minute of the show that will follow.

I can’t help but think of my mom as I get ready to meet her great-granddaughter. Mom was a strong, fiercely independent woman who put sexists and misogynists in their place daily. She defied gender norms by working in male-dominated fields, by coaching boys’ little league baseball teams, and by refusing to wear dresses. Mom ran a Chevrolet dealership, she loved watching football, and she was a United States Marine. She was a feminist who never used the word feminist, and she would have been a powerful role model for her granddaughters—and great-granddaughter—had she lived to meet them.

Through my memories and those of my brother Blake, Mom’s legacy will continue. Though she’s been gone for over eleven years, her influence in our family is as strong as ever. She can rest assured that her grandchildren are better people because of the example she set for her sons.

I do wish she could have met her granddaughters, though. She would have been so proud of all of them. And I think she would have been pretty proud of their parents, too.

  

Welcome to the world, baby girl Naughton! Nonna’s great-granddaughter is in the house, y’all, so take your seat, grab some popcorn, and watch what a girl can do.

Keeping Our Schools Safe and Open

 

When I was asked to sub as a special education paraprofessional at Southern Boone Primary to begin the new school year, I jumped at the chance. I knew, for the sake of my mental health, that a return to in-person school was exactly what I needed. Six months of being socially distant from my school family had left me feeling incredibly lonely. I missed my people.

The first week of school featured some pick-up and drop-off issues, technical glitches in the new, two-story addition to the building, and a plague of black crickets that serenaded nearly every classroom with their familiar and impossible to ignore song, yet I’m sure I can speak for just about every teacher and student in the building (and the district) when I say it felt really good to be back in school—despite the hiccups.

I can’t divulge much about the work I do in special education, but I will tell you that any anxiety I had been feeling about being packed into a crowded school building in the midst of a pandemic was erased when one of my students said, “Mr. Naughton is my friend,” while another looked up at me sweetly and told me, “I love you.”

Those were words I needed to hear. After six long and difficult months, I was finally back where I was meant to be.

I am committed to enjoying every minute of in-person school as long as it lasts. Boone County is currently in the midst of one of the biggest increases in new Covid-19 cases in the nation. The matrix used by Columbia Public Schools to determine whether to hold classes in-seat, online, or a hybrid of the two takes into account how many new cases of Covid-19 occurred within the last two weeks. Then, the 14-day new case rate per 10,000 people living within the community can be calculated. The Columbia school board decided that if their community’s 14-day new case rate per 10,000 people exceeds 10, then they would switch to the hybrid plan of half in-seat and half online classes. If the total reaches 50 or more new cases per 10,000 people, then they would switch to virtual instruction only. This is why Columbia schools began the year online.

According to the Boone County Covid Tracker, the 65010 and 65039 zip codes of the Ashland/Hartsburg/Southern Boone County region have tallied 57 new cases in the last 14 days (as of 9-13-2020). The estimated population in our region, according to 2019 census estimates, is approximately 8,900 people. When we divide those 57 new cases by 8,900 and multiply by 10,000, we find that our current 14-day new case rate is 64 cases per 10,000 people—well above the threshold our neighbors to the north deemed too dangerous for holding in-person classes.

I want to make it very clear that I am not in any way criticizing the decision made by our school board and administrators to hold in-person classes to start the year. As I said, I am thrilled to be back in the classroom again. I am firmly convinced that school is where our kids need to be—as long as we can make their learning environment a safe one.

So far, I am encouraged by how well kids and teachers have adapted to the safety protocols implemented within the buildings. Everyone wears masks in classrooms, in hallways, and in other common areas. Teachers make sure hands are being washed throughout the day. Desks, chairs, tables, and even books are sanitized frequently. And social distancing is being practiced whenever possible. I feel safe at school. 

As an extra precaution, I have instructed my own kids that when we get home from school each afternoon, all of us need to change into clean clothes and wash our hands and face well. If we continue to follow the schools’ safety protocols and our own precautions at home, then our risk of contracting the virus will be minimal.

I hope that Southern Boone’s 14-day new case rate starts dropping soon. I worry that if it continues to climb, then in-seat instruction may not be a viable option much longer. But do not despair, parents of school-aged children. We, as a community, have the power to prevent this from happening. 

For the sake of our children, their teachers, and everyone living in Southern Boone County, I implore you to please wear a mask whenever you’re in public. Avoid large gatherings. And wash your hands as if your life, or the life of someone you love, depends on it. Because it does.

As I write this, a member of our community—the spouse of a dear friend of mine—is in the intensive care unit of a local hospital, battling Covid-19. Let me assure you, this disease is very real and very serious. We must all do everything we can to stay healthy and to keep our schools safe and open. We can do this, Southern Boone. Yes we can.

But what are we going to do about all those crickets…classroom pets?!

Patriots Wear Masks

Contrary to what my wife may have you believe, I can admit when I am wrong. Last May, before the United States tallied its 100,000th death caused by Covid-19, I predicted that 200,000 Americans would be lost to this virus by Labor Day. Well, friends, I was wrong. 

According to the pandemic tracker on the Fox News website, which takes information provided by the World Health Organization, the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, the European Centre for Disease Prevention and Control, and the National Institutes of Health, the actual number of mothers, fathers, sons, and daughters in the United States who died by Labor Day as a result of contracting the novel coronavirus was just under 190,000. I was wrong, but not by much.

Though Boone County has only lost seven people to this disease so far, the number of new cases and new hospitalizations is increasing faster here than anywhere else in the state of Missouri. Why?

People are not doing enough to prevent the spread of the virus. The White House coronavirus task force has recommended that Missouri’s governor issue a statewide mask ordinance, yet Governor Parson refuses to issue such an order. Though Columbia has issued a mask ordinance, many returning college students and people who feel like a mandatory mask order is an attack on liberty are not doing their part to slow the spread of the virus.

Even the most diligent mask wearers can contract the virus if they let down their guard, but at least they are making an effort. Too many others refuse to wear masks and say, “I’m young and healthy, it won’t kill me.” That may be true, but it has killed almost 200,000 people in this country since February.

 

Some point to the recent clarification by the CDC that said only 6% of those deaths were caused solely by Covid-19, ignoring the fact that Covid-19 was a contributing factor in the other 94% of those deaths in which patients also suffered from a pre-existing health issue. It’s called comorbidity. Look it up. Make no mistake, those people were living with those health issues, some for years, until the coronavirus killed them.

The Institute for Health Metrics and Evaluation at the University of Washington uses a model cited by the White House and medical experts that predicts the course of the pandemic. That model now predicts that by January 1, 2021, a total of 410,451 Americans will have died of Covid-19.

 

Naysayers will argue that the only people at risk are the elderly and those with previous health issues, so they shouldn’t have to wear a mask or skip that fraternity party. The families of 410,000 dead Americans will say to them, if you had worn your mask and skipped that kegger last month, maybe my loved-one would not have caught the virus from the person you unknowingly spread it to. By the way, the sick and elderly are people, too, and their lives (and deaths) matter just as much as a young and healthy person’s.

Please don’t tell me, “But I have a medical condition. I can’t breathe when I wear a mask.” Baloney. I have been diagnosed with severe asthma and acute anxiety caused by bipolar disorder. If I can wear a mask for eight hours at work, then you can wear one for a few minutes when you go grocery shopping or interact with your server at your favorite restaurant. Yes, you can. Yes, you absolutely can.

The White House task force has also recommended that Missouri and other states experiencing a surge in new cases completely close bars in order to slow the spread. In Columbia, bars are closing at 10:00 pm, which is a step in the right direction, but it ignores the fact that large gatherings of unrelated, unmasked day-drinkers and fans of happy-hour are taking place in the crowded college town from morning till night. Again, the governor is unwilling to follow the White House’s recommendation to order the closing of these disease-spreading bars.

A friend told me she was opposed to mandates because people should have the decency and common sense to follow the mask and social distancing recommendations simply because they are the right things to do. Unfortunately, people are proving at every turn that they are unwilling to do things that make them uncomfortable—even when it would be the right thing to do.

I want this school year to be in-person, all year long. As a teacher, I need to interact with my students and coworkers face-to-face. Kids need that interaction, too. If we can’t slow the exponential spread of the coronavirus until an effective vaccine can be developed and approved for use, then I fear officials will have no choice but to order schools to “go virtual” in order to keep teachers, staffers, students, and their family members as safe as possible.

Until the never-maskers and Covid-deniers accept the reality of the seriousness of this pandemic, the shocking number of predicted deaths by New Year’s may prove to be an underestimate. I hope I’m wrong. I truly do.

Let’s all do our part to prevent the unnecessary deaths and illnesses of our fellow Americans. Do not attend large gatherings of people. Wash your hands often. And wear a mask. If you call yourself a patriot, then please do these simple but necessary things for your country and your countrymen. 

Patriots wear masks.

A Letter To My School Family

Next week, Southern Boone students will return to in-person classes for the first time in nearly six months. Six months?! Sure enough, March 18th was the last day that school was in session before COVID-19 changed everything. 

I know that September 8th has been circled on a lot of calendars by folks who have been looking forward to the return of school and a sense of normalcy. I also know that just as many people are feeling apprehensive about the date as well. Some of them are children. 

I would like to take this opportunity to directly address the students of SoBoCo, on behalf of the teachers, coaches, guidance counselors, paraprofessionals, instructional aids, secretaries, nurses, therapists, administrators, cafeteria workers, custodians, maintenance staff, groundskeepers, bus drivers, and school board members of our district. Parents, I hope you will do me a big favor by asking your kids to read the following letter. If your children aren’t reading on their own yet, please read it aloud to them. Thank you so much.

To the students of the Southern Boone County School District,

 

Hello, friends! My name is Mister Naughton, and I teach at the Primary School. Perhaps I was your substitute teacher when you were in kindergarten, first, or second grade. You might have even had me as your music teacher last year. (Did we have fun or what?!) It’s also possible that you are new to our school district, and in that case, I would like to be the first to welcome you to the Southern Boone family.

Family? Yep! When you become a student at Southern Boone, you become a part of our family. Just like your family at home, there are people in your school who care about you very much. Your classmates and friends will be there to celebrate with you whenever you do something great, and they will also be there to help cheer you up if you need them to—kind of like brothers and sisters do. (And just like brothers and sisters, your school family members will get on your nerves once in a while, but just remember that they really do care about you—no matter what.)

The grownups in your family love you, and they do their best to make sure you are safe and have everything you need. The same is true for your school family grownups, especially your teachers. When I ask my students what they think a teacher’s most important job is, they usually say, “To teach us stuff.” Actually, the most important job a teacher has is keeping their students safe. That is something for you to remember as we start this strange new school year.

As you know, something that’s on everybody’s mind these days is the coronavirus. The grownups in your family are doing everything they can to keep you safe, including having you wear a mask when necessary, making sure you wash your hands really well, and asking you to keep a little distance between yourself and  people who don’t live in your house. Well, the grownups at school will be doing the same sorts of things to keep you and your school family safe, too.

When you arrive at school next week, you will notice that all of the grownups, including your teachers, will be wearing masks. At first, it might seem a little scary, but I want to let you in on a little secret: Behind all of those masks are the beautiful, smiling faces of people who are very happy to see you. You will quickly learn to recognize what “smiling eyes” look like.

It is totally normal to feel a little nervous about the first day of school. I’ll tell you another secret: Your teachers will be a little nervous, too. No one is sure how this school year will go. There’s a chance that we may have to close the school buildings at some point. If that happens, you may learn from home using your iPad or computer to watch lessons and activities taught by your teacher. The most important thing for you to remember is that whether you learn at school or at home, your school family will always be there for you. No matter what happens, you can count on them.

One last thing to consider: This school year just might end up being the greatest school year in the history of school years! Did you ever think about that? With everybody worried about what school is going to be like with this coronavirus stuff going around, has anyone stopped to think about the possibility that all of this might actually bring us closer together and make our school family even better?

No matter what happens this school year, please know that you are not alone. Don’t forget that we are a family, and we can handle anything as long as we’re together. Enjoy your last week of summer vacation, my friends. I’ll see you soon!