“This is not something in a million years I could have imagined having to do,” Mayor Bill de Blasio, announced, appearing visibly distraught. “This is an extraordinarily painful moment for City Schools. Due to the spread of Covid 19 all New York City schools must be shut down immediately.”

I was a Teacher’s Assistant at a private special education preschool in New York City. At this school, Speech Language Pathology, Physical Therapy, Occupational Therapy and Psychology services are provided to children ages 3 to 5 years old. My role as a Teacher’s Assistant at this private special education school entails getting the classroom ready for lessons, helping the classroom teacher manage the students’ behavior, supervising group activities, sanitizing toys and clearing away materials and equipment after each lesson. It also includes reading to and listening to children read, taking part in training and helping in the planning of learning activities.I flourish in this role. It’s here that I learn teaching strategies in order to keep children engaged and happy at all times by making short, clear sentences for them to understand.

On March 13th,2020, I hurried down the subway to catch my A train to work. After getting out of the train, I walked a few blocks on Broadway Avenue to get to work. The smell of coffee filled the air along the busy street. Children hurriedly crossed the streets as the Schools’ Crossing Guard commanded. Parents kissed and hugged their children as they hopped onto the B47 Buses. Tree branches swayed from side to side. Due to the heavy winds, I clutched my coat and walked faster.

As I opened the door of the school, the sound of Happy friday! echoed throughout the narrow corridor. Teachers and other staff hurried to settle in, so as to welcome their students. Stepping into my classroom, I began to arrange the purple rectangular tables and small chairs around them. Four children usually sit at one table. The white tile walls showcase the alphabet, numbers, feeling chart, weather chart, shapes, colors and their drawings. The reading centers, computer center, water center, sensory center with peapod chair, headphones and water beads were all neatly arranged. The bright colorful alphabetical carpet where circle time is usually held every morning was clean and waiting to be explored by our curious kids.

The yellow school bus arrived with sleepy kids. The matrons greeted us happily as she took the children off the bus and gave them to the teachers and their assistants. As the kids trickled into the classroom, the head teacher, Ms. Kelly, a slim, brown skin lady, Natasha, a slim, brown skin American lady who was also a teacher’s assistant and I greeted them. “Good morning friends” we said in unison. They placed their bags and coats in their assigned cubbies and proceeded to wash their hands. We helped ten students settle in. Isses, our unofficial princess, always wears a crown to school along with a necklace and ring. These accessories can never be worn in class, so we usually place them in her bag. Darmell, our strong boy, never likes to sit in the chair, but did so on this day. Malakai, the baby of our class, never shared his toys with anyone, but decided to do so on this day. We all cheered him for his kind and thoughtful gesture.

Pancakes, muffins, an apple and milk were served for breakfast. The children ate all of their breakfast with delight. Next it was circle time, it was done with ease, each child participated in every activity that day. They sang and danced to the welcome song “hello, how are you, hello, how are you, hello how are you today. It’s nice to soraya?” “Welcome friends,” the head teacher, Ms Kelly, said in her deep Caribbean accent as the kids sat in a circle. During circle time, the kids recite their alphabet, numbers, and colors, and talk about the weather and how they are feeling that day. “I’m happy Ms. Candacia,” said Isses. What color is the stop sign, asked Ms. Kelly?. “Red!” Shouted Elijah and Devon.

During reading time, the teacher, Ms. Kelly read a book to the children, A Tiny Seed by Eric Carle. This book talked about how a seed grows into a plant. The children listened attentively. At the end of the story, Natasha and I helped the kids place their seeds in a ziplock bag with a damp piece of paper towel to get ready for spring. These bags usually hang by the window so that the sunlight can help the seed sprout, so that a beautiful tiny green leaf and stem are seen coming out of the seed. As the day ended we said goodbye to our little friends. Ms. Kelly sang, “it’s time to go home, it’s time to say goodbye, we all had so much fun, see you again? .” and hugged the kids. We then placed them back onto the school buses for home. “Have a great weekend,” I said to Salim and Jovan. “Bye Ms. Candacia” they replied and waved while disappearing behind the seats.

As I climbed the narrow stairs back to the classroom, one of the staff announced that her daughter’s charter school had shut down due to Covid. Upon reaching my classroom, Natasha was already disinfecting the building blocks and magnetic tiles at the sink. I too joined in cleaning. I wiped the cubbies and stacked chairs on top of the other. PING! PING! the sound of a phone buzz as a message has been delivered to it. Natasha dried her hands and checked her phone. “Candy! Look at this video,” she shouted. I leaned in to view the video. It showed an Iranian deputy health minister coughing and sweating during a press conference. We learned minutes later that he had tested positive for Covid 19. “This thing is getting worse,” I replied as we both continued to tidy the classroom. Just then, Ms. Kelly entered the classroom and told us we have to plan an activity for St. Patrick’s Day which was to be held the following Wednesday, March 17, 2020. We gave Ms Kelly ideas on what activities to do, type of decorations that would be used in the room, snacks to share and most importantly we decided to send home a formal letter to parents asking them to have their children wear something green on that day.

As the clock edged to 2pm, Natasha and I got ready to clock out of work. We hurried to punch our names out and said our goodbyes outside the school. “Please remember,” I said as we waved to each other, “don’t hold the poles in the bus or train without a tissue.” Natasha nodded. I

picked up my children from school and was very happy that the weekend was near. Following the same advice I gave Natasha earlier, I too, did so as well on the bus and train home.

On Sunday, March 15th, while braiding my daughters’ hair for the new week, breaking news was announced on the television. Mayor Bill De Blasio’s voice echoed through the television in my living room. All New York City schools would be closed, all non essential businesses have to be closed and we are in a stay at home order. This sent educators and parents scrambling to find a new way to teach their children.

On March 16th, Ms Kelly called and told us that we have to activate Microsoft Teams in order to teach children online and meet virtually with management. We were told that each of us would have to call three children to find out how they and their families were coping, during this difficult time. I was assigned to call Soraya, Jovan and Isatha parents. The next day I called each parent. Some parents answered and some didn’t. Jovan’s mom answered her phone but was reluctant to say much. “We are ok,” she said. “That’s great Mrs.Burns,” I replied in a happy voice. “We will be checking in regularly and also an update will be sent to your phone about online learning and other services for Jovan.” We said our pleasantries and bid each other goodbye.

For two weeks this was the regular routine. Clocking in and out of work was now done from my home on whatsapp group chat. The transition to online learning proved difficult for most parents, many were not equipped and or knowledgeable on the use of laptops and some didn’t have wifi.

On March 30th, during one of our daily meetings on Microsoft teams,our director, Ms. M, said that because direct deposits would no longer be available and we needed to go to the school to pick up our checks. “Call the office before you come and that the accountant will bring our checks down to you.,” announced Ms. M. Later that day, I did what I was told. I called and a time was set for me to pick up my checks. Ms. Ingrid, the accountant, called me back within five minutes of speaking with

her earlier. “Can you come in today, Candy?” she asked, “I’ll be here until 3pm” she said. I paused and reluctantly said “I could be there in an hour or so.” A little over an hour later, I was in front of the school. I called Ms. Ingrid and said that I was downstairs. She then told me to come up and she buzzed me in. I questioned that command because of the earlier directions given to wait downstairs. “Thanks ok,” she said, Ms. M knows that we are telling you guys to come instead. Something is not right here, I thought to myself. Apprehensively, I went up the stairs towards the accountant office. The hallway felt lonely, absent of the busy little feet and giggles of the little children. At her office door, I greeted Ms. Ingrid with a smile even though she couldn’t see it underneath my mask. She stood up. “Good day candy, she said. “Ms. M said that all part time employees should apply for unemployment benefits.” Her tone was sharp and unapologetic. I was shocked at the low blow that was thrown my way. I took a long pause, looking at Ms. Ingrid’s tall figure towering over me, her round face, her dark complexion, her blue dress all became blurry in my eyes. I knew at that moment, I’d lost my job and there would be only one check coming home now. She noticed a tear I guess, then she began to say how sorry she was. Her tone was much more sympathetic now. “Due to the fact that no direct/ close contact services will not be given, the director decided to terminate some staff,” Said Ms. Ingrid.

At that moment more tears flowed freely and Ms. Ingrid, in a softer voice said,“ if anything changes I personally will call you.” She handed me an envelope and tissue to wipe my eyes. The room was quieter now. The tiled walls looked like a whirlwind to me, so I bowed my head to the carpeted floor so my tears could fall and disappear in them. Ms. Ingrid’s rectangular mahogany desk was neatly arranged with stacks of files on it. Her Apple computer played soft gospel music. “Sometimes discouraged but not defeated, Cast down but not destroyed, There are times I don’t understand But I believe it’s turning around for me?” This helped to bring some comfort to me. I was a little calmer now and as time passed in silence. It felt like hours standing there. We both felt awkward. I told her thank you and left with a broken heart.

I felt like discarded trash, thrown on a sidewalk. Covid had swiped my job. Covid had also brought betrayal of my own kind to the surface. Ms. M was from the Caribbean, but at that moment I was backstabbed by my own. My walk home was a daze. The regular hello from strangers went unanswered. This was unfamiliar, unfriendly and an unstable moment for me. Time stopped for me, but the buses and cars just went by quickly on broadway street. An ominous feeling just shadowed me. My mask was wet with tears.

Upon reaching my apartment door, I knocked reluctantly. My husband opened the door and I rushed into his arms. Only this time the sound of pain that was bottled up on my way home was now heard. I cried and screamed in his arms. In my ears he reminded me that I’m a strong person and we have weathered many storms together. My daughters came running towards us, they wanted to know what happened to mommy. Soraia, my youngest, said, “mommy don’t cry, it’s going to be ok.” She handed me a tissue. My husband guided me to the living room to take a seat. He then left the room and returned with a glass of water. I then handed my husband the check to open. When he did, it was $165.00. I was angry again. ”Cheap and inconsiderate boss,” I said out loud. “They didn’t even pay me for the two weeks that I was clocking in and out on whatsapp and microsoft teams I said,” to my husband. “Where is the $800 more?” I asked. My husband replied, “What do they think, this is the Caribbean they are in?” During those weeks I called parents and the work schedule was made for the kids. I also kept in contact with my head teacher, giving her feedback about the contacts that I had made with the parents. Also, I submitted a weekly report to the head teacher. “I would never work for them again,” I declared.

Later in the evening, I heard, through the regular gossip vine, that not all teacher’s assistants lost their jobs. The boss’s clique didn’t. “Did you know that Mikel and Ms. Daniella are still working?” Ms.T said, during our phone call. She was a short, tan tone lady, who also was a teacher’s assistant. She had an angry tone. “Friends and family,” I reply. That’s them. Looking out for her own party buddies. At that moment I remembered the

song that calmed me in Ms. Ingrid’s office. I told Ms. T that sometimes we may feel discouraged but not defeated, discarded but not destroyed and even though Covid had taken our jobs, it would turn in our favor soon. We end our conversation with well wishes for each other.

Two days later, my husband came home with a stack of mail. One of the envelopes was from the Department of Education. I opened it and to my surprise I had passed the GED exams that I had taken in February of last year. I was excited, I jumped up and down in my house with the mail in my hand, and it was at that moment I decided to continue my educational journey. I enrolled in the mathstart program with City tech. I was determined to be gallant and fight back against this ferocious storm that had risen up to derail my progress.

One year later, I received a call from the HR department of my former school, asking me to return back to work. “Hello Candacia,” a jovial voice came through the phone, “this is Ms. D,” “who?” I replied, “Ms. D” the voice said again. “Can you return back to work on April 6th?” I paused and rolled my eyes. No! I replied, “My children are home.” Okay she responded and the call ended. Feeling of anger and thoughts of a putrid boss filled my mind. Not even how are you doing? How is your family? Nothing!. NO! NO! NO! never again would i work for the like of you again, i said to myself and then out loud. I felt great about my decision