By Chaya Nessa Krycer, Mesorah High School for Girls Student
When I was asked to write an article reflecting my experience through these turbulent times, I promptly checked my calendar. My intention was to do sufficient research which would hopefully enable me to write something bordering on enthralling. In actuality, it was to satisfy my morbid curiosity of how long I’d been virtually home-schooled. What I discovered, is that as of May 5, it had been 54 days since I had heard for the first time that school was closing. What’s interesting, is that my experience is much better than I ever thought it could possibly be.
Of course, I’m not trying to be the modern-day Cinderella/Pollyanna/Nachum Ish Gam Zu, and anyone else fitting into this category you could name. In fact, I can testify that I have tried wallowing in my self-pity countless times, but have been unable to do so. And to prove to you that I am nothing more than an ordinary teenager, I will promptly put the blame on someone else. All of you. I blame everyone, all my teachers who have learned a new set of skills at the drop of a hat, Rabbi Kosowsky and Mrs. Rich who have put in incalculable hours of work and effort, and everyone else who is in a position worse than mine, thereby proving to me that my situation is comparably amazing. It is your fault, for forcing me to have a positive attitude. How dare I complain, when everyone around me is doing everything in their power to ensure that life progresses in the least Earth-shattering way possible? How dare I complain, when everyone around me is doing everything in their power to ensure that life progresses in the least Earth-shattering way possible?
If I wanted to be perfectly candid, I would tell you that my objective when writing this was to complain. To gripe about how hard it is to not see my friends in person, or to walk into a store without thinking twice about the repercussions of touching doorknobs. I was confident that I’d convey my opinions in a way, that would startle all of you and make you realize that I am one who suffers. But I can’t.
Instead, I am forced to think about the incredible Hashgacha (Divine Providence) that every student was given a chrome book, only a few short weeks before school was abruptly canceled. I am forced to recall all the technological blunders I made when submitting assignments, which my teachers laughed off, and most importantly, did not penalize my grade. If my teachers were not so understanding, perhaps I would have the grounds for a complaint. But I don’t. And it doesn’t look like I ever will.
Of course, nothing is perfect, and there will be thousands of bumps along the way. But believe me when I say, that those bumps are smoothed when you completely understand that there are millions in the same boat. That you are not in control, and that there are others taking care of you and making sure that your journey through this experience is as painless as possible. And when I say others, I am referring of course to the administrators of Mesorah, my teachers, and Hashem, Who is the Ultimate Administrator, Who is ensuring that everything goes according to His divine and perfect plan.
And by knowing all that, how can I complain?