The Calm of Pinwheel
Owen F. - 7th Grade
I never thought that I would be wearing a mask on my first day of middle school, but COVID changed all that. I’ve spent the summer social distancing because sports and camps have all been canceled. My main friends are not allowed to socialize with me. Now, I am joining a community where half of the people already know each other, but I am in the other half. It’s hard to enter an existing group, and I can’t even see anyone’s face. I expected I would be joining a group of 30 students, but because of the pandemic, I’m really not. We are divided into three cohorts of ten students each, and twenty of the kids might as well be aliens. It's like we live in the same solar system, but on different planets. It is lonely, uncertain, and scary.
It’s time for my shop shift at Pinwheel. I leave the noise of the classroom behind and enter the quiet, peaceful cafe. Because of coronavirus restrictions, no one is there but Joe and me. It is a relaxing place where I don't have to struggle to focus, and I can do one thing at a time. Joe teaches me to pull an espresso shot. I pack coffee grounds into the filter and place them into the espresso machine. I then press the button, and water is forced through the grounds. The only sound in the room is the humming of water becoming coffee. I work with the machine to create a small, metal cup filled with two ounces of chocolate-colored liquid. I can see my success. Joe gives me a nod of approval.
We are in the classroom discussing global warming. Our group sits in a circle and there is a sense of despair. We are kids. How are we supposed to solve global warming? We know we have to do something, but this feels like stress without purpose. It is hot, and we have other work to do, but we have to be on this hamster wheel for at least another fifteen minutes.
“I have made myself a cup of lovely, foamy, steamed milk. My mind quiets. I have achieved success...”
It’s time for my shop shift at Pinwheel. I leave our classroom and enter the steady calm of the cafe. Today I'm working with Dot, and she has planned to teach me to steam milk. She walks me through the steps. I put the steam wand into the milk and turn on the steamer. It lets out a long sigh of relief as it releases pressure into the milk. The milk cup I am holding warms, and when it is too hot to touch I take my hand away and count to three before turning off the steam. I have made myself a cup of lovely, foamy, steamed milk. My mind quiets. I have achieved success, and I am able to move forward with my drink and my day.
I arrive at school with a busy mind. My brain feels like a washing machine, continuously turning one thought over the next. Another Black man has been killed by police. There are protests all over the country. Meanwhile, the former president is tweeting racist comments almost daily. His followers have organized themselves and are becoming stronger and more violent. I am frightened and confused.
It is time for my shop shift at Pinwheel. Both Dot and Joe are there, and the shift is slow. I start off by folding towels. They are sturdy, reliable rectangles. After I fold each one I put it in a neat stack. As I fold the towels, I am able to create order from the chaos. When my shop shift comes to an end, I ask if I can make myself a drink. Joe says, “Yes,” and so I make myself a chai latte. It is delicious, warm, and comforting. Drinking it is like sitting around a fire, simple and complex at the same time. I can almost taste the different colors: red, orange, and yellow.
And so my resilience cycle continues: stress, recovery, stress, recovery.