MAY 28 • 2020 | 5

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Mom Guilt, Quarantine Edition
C

an I take a moment to 
talk about Mom Guilt?
On a good day, moms 
have Mom Guilt. If we’
re cook-
ing, we feel bad we’
re not play-
ing with the kids. If we’
re play-
ing with the kids, 
we feel bad we’
re 
not doing laundry. 
If we’
re cleaning, 
we wonder if the 
kids are going to 
become respon-
sible human 
beings if we keep 
cleaning up after them, even 
though most of the time it’
s just 
so much quicker and easier to 
clean ourselves. 
Enter COVID-19, and this 
Mom Guilt has crept up to a 
crazy new level.
With kids home full time and 
getting a watered- 
down version 
of their education in pajamas 
with the use of technology, 
there’
s always the worry: Am 
I doing enough? Will my kid 

be on par with their classmates 
next year? And when did they 
change teaching long division 
the way I was taught in school? 
I can’
t help them now!
Then, when these moms 
want to get anything done — 
say, some work or even just a 
bathroom break — they might 
turn to technology for some 
electronic babysitting. And 
there’
s that Mom Guilt again. 
What are those official recom-

mended screen time guidelines 
for kids? Since this pandemic 
began, my kids might have been 
getting what feels like 20 hours 
of screen time daily. Am I dam-
aging them forever?
Some moms have truly risen 
to the occasion. They spend 
happy hours creating original 
crafts and baking special treats 
with their cherubic children 
by their side. When they share 
their masterpieces, claiming, 

“It’
s so easy!” the moms I’
m 
talking about picture the floury 
mess, the fingers superglued 
together, kids painting the walls 
when their back is turned, the 
glitter that will be ground into 
the carpet for the next decade 
and the fact that everyone 
will be asking her, “What’
s for 
dinner?” even while she’
s doing 
hands-on projects with the kids! 
The guilt rises again … She 
wonders: Am I the only one 
unwilling to do this? When kids 
later compare stories of life in 
quarantine, will my kids have 
anything positive to say? Am I 
missing a golden opportunity? 
And, if so, how come it doesn’
t 
feel so golden right now?
These moms love their kids, 
but their favorite part of the 
day is unquestionably bedtime. 
Finally, the kids are asleep and 
there’
s quiet. She hadn’
t man-
aged to accomplish anything 
with her kids underfoot all 
day and, finally, now she can 

Rochel 
Burstyn 

W

hen I was 2½ years 
old, I was diagnosed 
with autism. I was 
nonverbal and self-abusive. My 
parents were told that I’
d have to 
be put in a support 
home for the rest 
of my 
life. 
 Two years 
ago, I graduated 
from Oakland 
University with a 
bachelor of arts 
in history and a minor in Judaic 
studies, cum laude. 
 I’
ve always felt that just 

because someone is given a 
diagnosis, it does not mean they 
can’
t go to college. I enrolled at 
Macomb Community College 
planning to earn a psychology 
degree. Instead, I decided to earn 
a history degree. 
 When I was in pre-secondary 
school, my m 
om was my advo-
cate. Now I had to be my own 
advocate for the first time, 
requesting special services such 
as sitting at the front of the class, 
recording lectures and taking 
tests in a quiet room. To receive 
services, I had to request 
letters from the disability office 

and hand the letters to my pro-
fessors. I would wait until the 
end of class to hand in the letters 
because I was really nervous 
approaching my professors. 
 Navigating both campuses was 
a big challenge for me. In high 
school, all my classes were in 
one building. In college, I would 
have to go to multiple buildings 
for each class. MCC was big 
enough, but OU was like a small 
town. I would go to the campus-
es a week before classes started to 
figure out where each class was. 
Once I knew where all the 
buildings were, I didn’
t do it as 

often (unless I had to go to a new 
building). 
 Since I don’
t drive, getting to 
and from college was difficult. 
There were times when the ADA 
bus service made me want to 
scream, especially when I started 
Oakland. Whenever the bus 
was late, I would have a melt-
down, but it was something I had 
to deal with. I preferred when 
I got to school early, so that I 
could get some work done at the 
library and decompress from the 
bus ride. 
 The whole time I was in col-
lege, no one bullied me. When I 

essay
‘Not Giving Up’

William Dash