As our production team brings together all of the moving parts that make up this new issue of Exchange magazine, we are working against the backdrop of the spread of a global pandemic. Each morning brings news of border closings, school and city event cancellations and a deluge of frightening statistics. Exchange’s parent organization operates early childhood programs—in addition to publishing the magazine and other resources—and conversations about keeping the children in our care safe are frequent and understandably intense.

COVID-19 and its effects are, quite literally, a moving target. We are all just trying to keep up. News outlets tell us to panic, and in the next breath remind us to keep calm. Anxiety rates—at least based on an anecdotal poll of my friends—are skyrocketing. We all want to do the right thing, but in any given moment, we can’t be sure what exactly that right thing is.

When I am mired in uncertainty, it helps me to remind myself of those things I know to be true. For example, I know that my colleagues are thoughtful, responsible people, and that collectively we will make the best decisions we can with the information that is available to us—and after all, isn’t that all we can do? I know that our ECE community is comprised of idealistic professionals who are looking after the children and families in their communities. I recognize that international efforts are underway to protect as many people as possible. I understand that the children in our lives need us today just as much as yesterday, just as much as tomorrow.

Every day is made up of a thousand tiny choices—this breakfast cereal or that one, this phone call or perhaps I will send an email instead—and the cumulative effect of these choices, under the best circumstances, is a life well-lived. Even in times of global crises, we can live our best lives. We can meet our neighbors’ eyes with friendship and compassion; we can deliver groceries or call an elderly relative to check in. We can share recipes and board games. We can donate money to organizations serving the world’s most vulnerable populations during this crisis.

Additionally, we can recognize our relative privilege and find ways to protect and lift up those in our care—the families and children in our programs, our colleague who can’t get her nerves under control, our parent who’s worried about the stock market. We can choose to be a storm-tossed wave or a beacon of light for others who feel adrift. Sometimes we may play both of these roles in any given day; that is both understandable and fair.

In coming together—something early childhood educators do better than just about any other group I can think of—we find strength and compassion, hope in dark moments and resilience to carry us through the times between. We can be the embodiment of Mr. Rogers’ “helpers.”

Together, we can lead the way.

Sara Gilliam