Some of us of a certain vintage can remember, with absolute joy, the Monty Python 'What did the Romans ever do for us' sketch. It starts with a group of ancients complaining about cruel Roman rule, but ends with a wise reflective observation:

Well, apart from medicine, irrigation,

health, roads, cheese, and education,

baths and the Circus Maximus,

what have the Romans ever done for us?

(From 'Monty Python's Life of Brian)

While the original dates from 1979, I expect that many know the sketch through the power of Instagram and YouTube. Looking to see comedy gold, even in misfortune, we are directed to the power of being 'glass half full' people—indeed, as Christians, fully aware of the power of the Resurrection, we must be people of hope. Ours is a call to see hope, even in the despair of Calvary, as the Lord cried out, 'my God' my God, why have you abandoned me?'

As 2020 dawned across the world, little did people suspect that our lives would be totally turned upside down by a virus that we neither knew nor understood. Covid-19 entered our psyche slowly, but decisively. And by March 2020, the whole world was experiencing something new, unsettling, and unusual. We were in lockdown! Everything from a trip to the pub, McDonalds or even the match was taken from us as we were asked to do our own part to stop the spread of this disease.

Looking back, with the wonderful gift of hindsight, we can argue that we should have done things differently. Indeed, as we have seen very strongly in the soap opera that has become known as 'partygate', our own Prime Minister lectured us, nightly, to 'keep our distance' and totally avoid social situations. While the nation tried to observe these rules to the letter, with the strong optic of Her Majesty, Queen Elizabeth II sitting alone at her own husband's funeral, it seems that a strong social and drinking culture was alive and well at 10 Downing St. In a sense, it is irrelevant that the former leader, Mr Johnson saw that it was necessary to reward his hardworking staff, if the very rules that he was trying to promulgate were broken. Hospital staff, cleaners, care homes, schools and all working environments were trying their hardest to follow guidelines and 'stop the spread'. They needed to be rewarded by more than just a clap at 8pm on a Thursday night! What makes the Downing St office staff more special than the porters transporting corpses to the morgue without adequate PPE protection? The perceived arrogance of our former leaders cannot be excused by viewing the 2020/21 crisis through the eyes of 2023.
Three years ago, we did not have the medical knowledge that we are in possession of now. Could our government have handled the situation in a more creative way? Probably, yes! Could family heartache and unneeded suffering have been avoided? Honestly, it must be a yes! This is what makes the culture of excusing Mr Johnson by his uncritical fans so hard to accept now. If there was a modicum of contrition, or an acceptance that the Downing St 'drinks culture' was completely out of step with what the rest of us were being forced to do, then perhaps it would not be perceived by so many of the public as so insensitive. So often we are told, usually by those same uncritical supporters, that we have to 'forgive and forget!' We are told by these acolytes that we must 'move on!' Forgiveness must lie at the heart of our attitude: from that same Cross of despair, the Lord made a universal plea, 'Father forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing!' However, can we forget those lonely deaths? Can we forget loved ones stuck in nursing homes, unable to have visits? Can we forget families torn apart by the regulations that were forced on us? Can we forget students whose lives were blighted? Can we forget millions of pounds wasted in government PPE contracts given to friends and families? In our rush to return to a new normal, should we so easily just forget?

This reflection began with a comedic look at how even bad situations, can result in something good happening. With recent media coverage of 'partygate', we might be excused for thinking that nothing positive happened during those strange days only 36 months ago. The pandemic acted as a global 'pause button' on the events of our world. International travel was almost impossible, and, as one who had to attend hospital appointments, travelling through central London was an eerie experience: with shuttered shops and little traffic. The iconic Piccadilly Circus became something resembling a post-apocalyptic movie set. For some of us, working from home was a pure delight—at first! It gave us all a chance to reconnect with family, and those part of our close-knit bubble of associates. As the weeks dragged on, we realised that we were not enjoying an extended slumber party, as death rates rose, and people were forced into isolation in an effort to control the spread of this deadly virus. We came face to face with our own mortality in an age that told us that we were able to do anything or go anywhere. It was quite humbling to realise that we were not in control.
Many turned to their faith for support, although, like so many other facets of our life, this had to be done online. My own family told me, at the start of the lockdown, how they would dress up so that they could, literally, hear mass on their TV, laptop, or radio—a Eucharistic celebration that demands intimacy and connection, had become a spectator event. As lockdown wore on, my same family members related how they would be lucky to assemble their ''congregation', with minutes to spare, still in their pyjamas! Covid forced us to re-think so many of the paradigms that we took for granted before 2020: from ensuring a good education for our children to doing the weekly shop. We were given the gift of precious time, as we learnt to slow down and realise that life was not just about deadlines. What did the pandemic, as cruel as it was, give you? Did you find that you had time for others by offering time for volunteering? A good friend of mine befriended an elderly gentleman living in a tiny flat, far from his family. She found that her weekly shop for him and a good socially distanced chat with him made life much more bearable. That does happen when we reach out beyond our own worlds. In many ways even though we were asked to lockdown and restrict personal contacts, through the gift of social media our world became bigger. Suddenly, we were reconnecting with family and friends across the globe—as one friend told me, he did not realise just how many cousins he actually had. We did have moments of comedy, worthy of a Monty Python sketch, if they were not so pathetically stupid. Of course, so many coming out of the presidency of Mr Trump, was his wondering, out loud, if drinking disinfectant would be a way to stop Covid?

I suspect that in the years to come many a degree dissertation and PhD theses will be written on how the Covid crisis effected different sectors of society. I wonder will we see posters, evocative of the First World War, asking the question, 'what did you do during the pandemic?' For us, so deeply involved in education, we do well to monitor the well-being and mental health of our young people and professionals alike. The recent controversy surrounding the tragic suicide of the primary headteacher, Ruth Perry points to real duty of care that His Majesty's Inspectorate of Schools must have, especially as we try to move on from the devastating effects that Covid-19 had on all aspects of life. In her recent 'Guardian' article (see 25/03/2023 'It Broke the Link'), journalist, Clea Skopeliti shares the concerns of the Children's' Commissioner, Rachel de Souza that school attendance dips significantly on Fridays: in looking for more research, there is a feeling, among some educators, that children have had enough by Friday. Schools were never closed during the pandemic and teachers had to cope with the stress of teaching live to children who had to be in school, as well as children joining the class online and preparing home learning packs for families who did not have the luxury of home computers and internet. For some children, the return to normality has been very difficult—the pandemic broke their regular rhythm of life for a significant part of their schooling. It is easy to forget that Headteachers were having to deal with new regulations and guidelines on a weekly, even daily basis. Children were not only taught in their bubble groups but used this group to socialise and have their free time. Three years down the line, many schools are still using this pattern, meaning that staff have very little time for interaction and down time together that a more traditional lunch break, pre-Covid, brought. Such socialisation is crucial: a fun staff room, with banter and good craic, allows our professionals to relax and prepare for classes that lie ahead. Parents have also noticed that their children seem to be still suffering, arguing that some have not been able to transition from home learning to going back to full time schooling, often having to use new teaching, and learning styles. Skopeliti cites a parent who does…

…not think "there's been any real acknowledgment of the trauma" with which the pandemic burdened some children. "This is a really large part of their lives and it's been completely turned upside down. Then they are thrown back in and expected to get on with it."

If you factor in the demands of OFSTED, which demands a rigorous and needed inspection of our schools, then there is a clear and present danger of things going wrong. Families and schools have suffered over these past few years in ways that we never thought possible, as we gleefully sang in the new year in 2020. With so many children being kept home on a Friday, we have a reason to be worried. While De Souza connected the pattern of Friday absences partly to parents' remote working patterns that are still in place, there are also mental health issues, social and educational disadvantage, unmet special educational needs and disabilities that become significant factors behind increased absences.

How can a school improve with such a significant cohort of children absent? Will the brash and stark grades offered by OFSTED force more of our colleagues to resign and look for work at the local supermarket? Is OFSTED itself fit for purpose, or is a radical rethink needed? A colleague of mine who is fully committed to education, as a school governor, feels that children are not machines that can be switched on or off as the mood (or pandemic) takes us. She advocates increased funding before these vulnerable children are 'spat out' to face the world without all the needed social and educational skills that will support their progress. There is no doubt that a post Covid world will present new challenges for OFSTED: is the popular flossing dance, immortalised by the game 'Fortnite', evidence of sexualisation as some would suggest? Can a playground fight be seen as evidence of peer abuse? The OFSTED report that has been cited by Ms Perry's family and friends as the reason behind her suicide placed the school into an inadequate category. As they point out, the report found the school to be good in every category apart from leadership and management, where it was judged to be inadequate, the lowest rating. It meant the entire school dropped to the lowest rating. Her own sister claimed that this judgement 'destroyed' the vocation of her sister, who had once been a pupil at the school. "This one-word judgment is just destroying 32 years of her vocation – education was her vocation – 32 years summed up in one word, inadequate. It just preyed on her mind until she couldn't take it anymore." ('Guardian' Headteacher kills herself 17/03/2023)

Our hearts and prayers must go out to the family of Ms Perry, and all the others who have been forced into such dark places. In moving forward from this pandemic, it is not simply a case of rebooting a system back to a 2020 model. Those pandemic years have played a huge impact on our society—the results we may not fully see for years to come. We need to be open and courageous, open to learning from both the mistakes and strengths that those years brought us. As a Church rooted in the gift of reconciliation this should be relatively easy. As Pope Francis reminded us on that spectacular night where he sat alone in St Peter's Square giving his blessing to the city and the world:

We have realized that we are in the same boat, all of us fragile and disoriented, but at the same time important and needed, all of us called to row together, each of us in need of comforting the other. (27/03/2020)

As the Lord was with his disciples, even in the harshest of storms, so the Lord walks towards us, asking that we trust, but move forward with a glass half full!

Author: Fr Gerry O'Shaughnessy SDB

Photo by Max LaRochelle on Unsplash