We cannot be contained

The Order

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The sun was shining through the classroom door on March 11, 2020. My fiction writing class had begun our second round of story workshops and spring was in the air--then all of our phones started buzzing at once. It was our alert system delivering news that this would be our last day on campus. We hadn't even had the chance to move our desks into the workshop circle. I assured the class, a group of students of all ages and from all backgrounds and several corners of the world, that we would would finish what we had barely started that day, discussing the work. They worried about how they'd continue what they had all gotten so good at together: sharing, discussing, suggesting, debating, encouraging. I assured them that I would figure it out because I was their teacher and that is what I do.

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By Monday of the following week, we were back together, each student's face a live rectangle on my computer screen, relieved to be again in each others' company, resuming what we do: write.

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Take comfort, dear reader, as we have, that while we may be sheltered-in-place, we cannot be contained.

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~ Michelle Cruz Gonzales

April 18, 2020