Pandemic Parenting & Philosophy in Crisis

These are strange times, a crisis unlike anything in living memory for most of us, at least those of us in the privileged Western world who are middle-class and accustomed to freedom of movement, reliable institutions, and the luxury of touching our face. As I transitioned my philosophy of education course online last winter I was struck by the way in which our class discussions quickly became very personal, not only because we could see inside everyone’s homes but because students couldn’t help but speak about the personal dimensions to this pandemic—from canceled wedding plans to financial troubles to questions about graduation— often with links to the philosophy of education readings. Inspired by my students, I couldn’t help but meld the personal and philosophical, and see the personal as a way into philosophy. What impacted me most when the pandemic hit wasn’t the transition to teaching online, but that suddenly my wife and I had to completely reconfigure our domestic layout and office space in our small home, because my 5 and 9-year-old kids were now home all day every day. As anyone with young kids knows, “working from home” during a pandemic is a real misnomer, particularly when multiple young children are involved. It felt a bit more like “living at work” (DrFields, 2020), or, for parents, “working at school.” It wasn’t just the added responsibility of homeschooling; it was the relentlessness of it all. It was like trying to fly an airplane while doing your laundry and your taxes. While I could Zoom or answer emails when the kids were around, I could not read or write or think about anything substantial. Parenting under normal circumstances functions precisely because of some measure of predictability, and this period of thorough unpredictability requires us to turn to philosophy to think through the parenting and education that we normally do more or less unreflectively. My wife was working from home as well, and she is at high risk because of a compromised immune system. Far more important than professional productivity was my kids’ well-being and ensuring that daily domestic life went as smoothly as possible: it was imperative to start the kids off right every morning rather than to pick up the pieces later in the day when the kids started to fall apart and the parenting train went off the tracks. We would plan the kids’ day out intelligently so as to minimize conflict and keep spirits up, and then schedule my work around it. My kids joined my Zoom meetings and were often in the room while I was teaching. My youngest son’s teacher planned well-meaning but time-consuming activities that required lots of parental involvement and preparation: “Ask your parents to cut the letters of the alphabet out of paper.” But I could either feed and bathe my children, or cut paper for them. As a result, homeschooling didn’t always follow the curriculum. Sometimes just getting the kids to cook with us and help with chores was the major learning for the day. Other times we found ourselves staying up late working with our eldest on homework when what we likely all needed was some quality time together and sleep. The most precious item our family owned was a swing set in the backyard; for 2 or 3 hours even in cold March temperatures our boys (with the promise of Pokemon cards) would swing away their endless energy. It quickly became apparent that the only way I was going to get any reading or writing done was in my car. Every afternoon starting in mid-March, following a few hours …