When the world shut down in March because of COVID-19, we all expected to be back to normal by September, didn’t we? For some of you, that reality is close. You may be more cautious in your social or workplace face-to-face interactions, but you are no longer sheltering at home or avoiding trips to the store, the doctor, or your favorite restaurant. But many are not yet back to normal, although none of us want this state of affairs to turn into a new normal.

An analogy for the United States, Brazil, India, and other countries where coronavirus cases are rising might be this: The light at the end of the tunnel is not the exit but an oncoming train. We continue to not know what to expect. The danger isn’t gone. We can’t fix our economy without getting a grip on the virus. We can’t fix our schools without getting a grip on the virus. We can’t travel to visit our loved ones without getting a grip on the virus.

What can we do? How can we cope? Is there any way to thrive? Let me suggest that we be kind to ourselves. That we take care of ourselves.

We are weathering the COVID-19 storm; we are learning how to help ourselves, our colleagues, and our English learners every day. I’m sure you have been busy these past few months exploring better ways to teach remotely and figuring out how to go back to face-to-face instruction safely, if only for part of an academic week. You’ve been redesigning your curriculum and revising your assessments for an online world.

Educators are essential workers. You are an essential worker. Our students and their parents rely on us. They expect us to be present, ever striving to instill knowledge. But just like we tell new teachers “chunk and chew”—teach for 10 minutes and let students process for two—we need regular breaks to refresh and regroup as well.

I thought I would do a lot of pleasure reading after things shut down in March. Ha! I couldn’t escape into fantasy or historical fiction. The real world was already a dystopian, surreal environment. I was reading daily, yes, but it was news reports and technical guidelines for apps like Zoom. I was staring at a screen for hours and hours each day and couldn’t stare at a book at the end of an evening. I was tense, worried, unsure.

Recently, though, I made the decision to carve out time each day for non-work-related reading. I just finished a book, Painting Harlem Modern: The Art of Jacob Lawrence by Patricia Hills. I had the book prepandemic, but it lay on my living room table for months. I finally picked it up last week and found joy. No—really. Gazing at Jacob Lawrence’s vibrant paintings let me imagine I was in a museum, following his narrative path in the Toussaint L’Ouverture, the Harriet Tubman, the Great Migration, and the life in Harlem series, among his other works of art. And while the social commentary of his paintings is pertinent to today’s time and troubles, the strength and universality of his images was rejuvenating and engaging.

For many of us, the academic year is starting. It’s busy, it’s stressful, it’s unknown. There’s hardly time to take a breath. But do so, for yourself and your students. Take time for self-care. Find an activity to enjoy. Find a friend to share the experience with, even if it is a recounting done from a distance. Exercise, dance, sing, write, sew, sketch, or cook. Find moments of peace.

Deborah J. Short, PhD, is TESOL International Association president (2020–2021). She directs Academic Language Research & Training, LLC and provides professional development on academic literacy, content-based ESL, and sheltered instruction worldwide. She has led numerous research projects related to English learner education, codeveloped the SIOP Model, and served as series editor for several 6 Principles books.