Items

• 2022-06-22

  The Two-Week Road Trip

  When COVID-19 shut everything down in March 2020, I was in the middle of student teaching and preparing to take my last teaching certification exam. My college graduation was moved to a PowerPoint presentation, and summer plans were canceled. The first year of my teaching career was hybrid. I had a small portion of my students in person, and a majority tuned into my world geography class via Zoom. In my second year of teaching, things were slowly returning to normal. Asynchronous and synchronous schooling was no more, and students had to attend in person while wearing masks and trying to maintain social distancing as much as possible in a high school. During this school year, my family planned a two-week road trip to explore historic sites in the United States on our journey from San Antonio, Texas, to Eau Clair, Michigan. On this road trip, we traveled through and stopped in eight states. In the Summer of 2022, I embarked on a two-week road trip from June 19th to July 2nd with my mom, my younger brother, and my grandma to visit family in Illinois and Michigan. It was chaotic and wonderful at the same time. We traveled through Arkansas, Mississippi, Tennessee, Kentucky, Illinois, Indiana, Michigan, and Missouri until returning to Texas. Travel restrictions at this point were lax or nonexistent in the states we traveled to, and many people we encountered acted as if COVID-19 had never happened. Masks were hardly worn, and social distancing was gone, although signs recommending the six-foot distance still lingered around different locations we stopped at. I, however, carried hand sanitizer with me religiously and had a mask with me in case it was needed. Because of how relaxed the COVID-19 safety restrictions were in the states we traveled through, my family and I were convinced we would get sick. Luckily, we did not, but whenever we returned to the car after a sightseeing excursion, we always said, “There’s no way we didn’t get COVID that time.” We were most convinced that we had come into contact with the virus in Chattanooga, Tennessee. While in Chattanooga, we went up Lookout Mountain and into Ruby Falls. Ruby Falls is a series of caverns that lead to the tallest and deepest underground waterfall in the United States. You must descend in an elevator to get down to the cavern entrance. There were no mandatory mask signs or social-distancing warnings to board the elevator, only a weight limit. So, my mother, younger brother, and I squeezed into an elevator with about twenty maskless people and descended into the cave. On the cave tour, we were still in close quarters but were able to spread out a bit more. We traveled into the depths of the caverns until we made it to the waterfall, took our pictures, and then road back up to civilization again, compacted into an elevator. We traveled and stopped in many different places, each with various rules and restrictions regarding how that establishment was handling COVID-19. Our elevator ride at Ruby Falls was the most surprising part of our trip. This elevator ride made me feel as if people had forgotten the entire COVID-19 epidemic had occurred. My surprise was mainly influenced by the precautions I had to take as a teacher, and going out into the “wild” opened my eyes to how different parts of the country were coping with the aftermath of the epidemic. I observed many people's attitude on our road trip: "Let's just get back to normal.”