Why “should” can get fucked.

The burden of expectation during this pandemic is causing more harm than good.

My family are currently on week three of lockdown. I removed my younger children from school two weeks prior to the state government closing education facilities to those kids who can remain home.

We started our new life with great enthusiasm and plans for awesome things.

I taught classes on Spanish Influenza, mutual aid and anarchism. My eldest daughter took the younger two through the Great Depression. We explored the local cemetery, and discussed the history of our community through the lens of anti-colonialism. I planned to bake cakes and fresh bread every day, nourishing meals to feed our bodies, souls and reconnect us with simplicity. Daily walks in the bush for exercise and open air classes. We’d be in contact daily with teachers, amazing them with updates of our progress and maybe even giving them concerns over potential radicalisation. The house would be spotlessly clean, piles of washing or random rabbit poo on the floor a thing of the past.

This is what I should do, as a responsible mother, housewife and as someone who now has the opportunity to undo some of the more harmful aspects of the mainstream schooling experience. As someone with a husband working full time. As a strong maternal leader. I should keep everything together.

With all this time freed from travelling and schedules dictated by school, I should be so productive. Writing articles, creating online content, providing ideas and inspiration for other animals rights activists to continue advocating for non-human animals even during lock down. Keeping up momentum whist everything else is slowing down. In constant contact with my colleagues within our organisation, using this time to update, strategise, formulate plans for moving forwards.

After all with social gathering restrictions all but banning the ability to congregate in protest, with the raging discourse over zoonotic diseases and our relationships with non-human animals, this is what I should do, as an animal rights activist.

But after three weeks should can get fucked.

Three weeks of minimal contact with the outside world, with all the associated pressures of six people living in one small house; I am officially raising the white flag.

I should be teaching the kids daily lessons, even if it’s just the basics. I should be writing articles for multiple websites, as many as possible, including for the organisation of which I am president. I should be creating social media content that informs and inspires. I should be trying to reach out and assist everyone in the community who requires help. I should be organising meetings on Zoom to connect and engage with other activists. I should be in constant contact with family and friends to make sure we are all doing okay.

I should be strong. Productive. Inspirational. A leader. A creator.

Instead, I’m barely able to teach the kids beyond “go write a story and stop grinding your fucking teeth for one second please.” I’ve become my daughter’s therapist as she grapples with extreme anxiety, and I’m a pretty shit therapist. We’re eating yes, but the daily bread has become less daily and more whatever. My ability to produce articles and online content is dwindling, just like my patience with everyone in the house. And I can’t remember the last time I spoke to family beyond those within these four walls.

But the specter of should still dominates my thinking. And if my newsfeed is anything to go by, there are numerous people in similar positions. Who so enthusiastically plunged into the expectation of productivity during this time of social distancing and are struggling as a result.

It’s both a manifestation of our own anxieties and the influence of a society that views an individual’s worth as inherently connected with their productivity. It’s a profoundly toxic pattern of behaviour and expectation that is harming us all; in this house it is feeding into the anxieties of others and preventing us from engaging in those positive, supportive behaviours that are a genuine necessity at this time.

So should as a thought, a driver, an expectation, can get fucked.

Today I might bake bread. Maybe my kids will do their 6Xs tables and learn more about Kropotkin. We might recreate famous portraits using objects from around the house. I might write a bundle of articles. We might even exercise outside.

Or we might not bother with pants all day, and end up playing twelve hours of Minecraft before eating beans on toast and going to bed at 11pm.

But the one thing that will definitely happen today is that I will begin to give up the burden of expectation and just allow myself time to breathe in the midst of all this social surrealism. I am permitting myself to unravel and to unwind, and to let go of all the anxieties associated with the toxic need for validation through productivity.

Today, should will get fucked.