I visited my family over the weekend. We had a nice time. They asked when they will see me again. I said I don't know.

I'm a teacher in NY state and I'm expected to report to work full time, in-person, starting in two weeks. Obviously, this is a shitty idea, but Cuomo and local leadership have demanded that everyone shed some blood for the markets. My union is defanged and would never formally agree to a strike, for fear of penalty of law, so they're acting like this is normal.

I worry for my safety, and that of my colleagues, my students, and their families. Some people will get sick and die, including some children, but we've been told that's a necessary risk to save the economy. So because I need healthcare, and I need to pay rent, I'm going to risk my life and be complicit in risking the lives of my students. I'm going to continue pretending that forcing children through the increasingly corporatized K12 education system is for their own good so their parents can go back to work at their own pointless jobs and risk their lives for meager compensation too.

My parents are in their 60s. We have a good relationship and I want to spend as much time with them as possible as they get older. But I will not go to their house again after spending time around dozens of students every day without isolating for at least a week. So I guess I won't see them until next summer if we all live that long. Maybe I'm being dramatic and this is just a mild, COVID-related inconvenience, but it's my personal perspective on how capitalists' addiction to market gains is fucking up my life.