I’ve always worn a lot of hats. I’m a senior officer in the Air National Guard. I’m an executive at Comcast. I’m a mom of three 15-year-old girls. I solo parent during the week while my husband works in another city.
All of those jobs have become more complicated in recent months, with both coronavirus and a national reckoning on race; I’m also the wife of a black man and the mother of three girls from China.
I’m wearing more hats than ever. And yet I feel like the disparate parts of my life have somehow become unified, for the first time.
Those different parts are still challenging, of course, and in some ways even more so now. But everything is synced: I’m thinking about keeping my family safe from coronavirus, and then activating Guard teams to help keep other people safe from coronavirus. I’m doing a bunch of video meetings for my Comcast work in the dining room, and then my girls are asking me about the conversations they sometimes overhear. I’m watching the news about protests and talking to my husband and kids about the race dynamics we live every day.
There’s a real humaneness in that situation.
At times, it seems like I’ve had to live a bifurcated life, pretending that I didn’t have a spouse or kids, or had to get dinner on the table.
But now work is in our personal lives, literally. The dog is barking in the background of someone’s video during the meeting, while another person on the call has a toddler crawling into his lap. I’ve now talked to the kids of colleagues whom I didn’t even know were parents. I feel people are so much more gracious with all of that now. There’s a true sense that we’re all in this together.
Not everything has been easy, of course. My husband commuting back and forth to us in Philadelphia from his job in Atlanta during the week has been more challenging because of coronavirus, for example.
And in the early days I could hear my teen daughters picking up messaging from social media: 2020 is terrible, 2020 is something bad is happening to us.
I decided I had to very clearly set the tone of living intentionally. 2020 doesn’t happen to us. We get to live in 2020—and there are many people who won’t have that gift. So what do we want our family life and individual lives to be?
It doesn’t mean we stick our heads in the sand. We are engaged with what’s going on in the news and have open conversations about the race crisis. We listen to CDC guidelines and keep ourselves as safe as we can during coronavirus.









