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By Jiwon Yoon, ATR-BC, LCPC
Photo Credits by Unsplash
In contemplation of my eventual absence, I took a meticulous final tour of the studio, Hope and Art Studio. Having ensured the plants were watered and the desks were wiped with sanitizing wipes, I turned off the heater. As I glanced around, my eyes lingered on the modest setting of my art therapy space that once buzzed with the stories of mothers and children. Yet now, with a heavy heart, I locked the door as COVID-19 escalated to unimaginable levels—an eventuality that had unfolded within just weeks. The schools had closed, and, consequently, this vibrant space where mothers and children thrived, also closed its doors.
The onset of quarantine and social distancing marked an unprecedented chapter. Working mothers were tasked with juggling careers, childcare, and household duties within the same confines, while full-time homemakers found their routines and personal schedules utterly disrupted. Business owners faced rent and livelihood concerns, while employees feared pay cuts or layoffs. The social distancing mandates forced all, regardless of family dynamics, into an intensified nuclear family experience. Economic turmoil affected many families, while anxiety extended its reach even to those less financially vulnerable. The quest for familial happiness often resulted in heightened conflicts and disputes during the 24/7 togetherness—a juxtaposition to the rising isolation and anxiety.
While the world changed rapidly under the shadow of COVID-19, our isolated homes remained eerily calm, akin to the eye of a storm. The flood of virus-related messages became mere background noise, as life seemed deceptively normal. Homeschooling and remote work with my family became routine, proving that learning and life went on without physical interaction. Children engaged in virtual playdates, adapting seamlessly to a future once unimaginable—at least for the first two weeks. Realistically, no one expected the crisis to abate in such a short time. The quarantine persisted.
During this period, I continued engaging with mothers through social media and the podcast "My American Child," which reaches Korean mothers living in America. Yet, I felt a need to connect more intimately. I wondered how other mothers were coping. Social media painted a picture of well-being, with mothers providing creative activities for their children and nurturing their family with three daily meals. However, beneath this polished exterior lay diverse struggles of sadness, disappointment, and fear, familiar truths I have observed as a counselor. Those with abundant resources navigated these challenges better, but others lacked means or avenues for help.
Consider mothers who found cultural isolation exacerbated by COVID-19, those weary from family conflicts, or those tirelessly pursuing educational success for their children. Likewise, those consumed by earning a living, feeling guilty for not being available enough for their families. How would quarantine and isolation appear to them?
Hope and Art Studio provided profound joy in moments where mothers crafted stories and paintings for their children—a process of self-acceptance beyond perfect theories or conditions. Recognizing themselves as 'good enough' revealed their inherent strengths through storytelling and art.
Could the quarantine be an opportunity for mothers to experience and accept themselves as they are? Despite linguistic and cultural differences, it could have been a time of rediscovering their children. Was this a pause from relentless pursuits for achievements and success? Without the distraction of social gatherings, perhaps it was a moment to reflect on personal stories and those of family, offering satisfaction amidst the struggle of three crafted meals a day.
Despite the challenges, worries persisted: "Is it okay to take this break?" "Are my children falling behind?" "When can I enjoy time for myself alone?" Such concerns are natural. Yet, if you find yourself out of breath from chasing societal ideals of 'good motherhood,' perhaps this quarantine offered a chance to imagine a life more aligned with your desires. Once the pandemic resolves, normalcy will return, resuming busy schedules, environmental destruction, and the pressure to meet societal expectations. Our children may again be burdened with fulfilling parental dreams instead of their own. Thus, one might whimsically wish for longer quarantine—time for nature to heal, for people to reconnect, where equal isolation leads to less loneliness, and children enjoy timeless freedom.
"We can live in another reality while accepting and loving the current one. Revolution is about redefining oneself, not changing society." — Jeong Hee-jin
• Completed Master's in Art Therapy
• Provided therapy for child victims at the Chicago Children's Advocacy Center
• Art therapist for GS Caltex Social Contribution Project and Seoul Foundation for Arts and Culture
• Served on the healing team at New Jersey Center for Great Expectations
• Founded Hope and Art Studio in New Jersey
• Engages in creating picture books and counseling programs for multicultural mothers and children
Currently hosting My American Child podcast.
