This Is Us

Invisible: The Fault Lines of Motherhood

We take a few steps from our beds to remote teaching and remote learning, to four desks in three rooms. In our Queens, New York City apartment, we endure lock down, our entry into the pandemic. I hear eight-year old giggling and then I tell him to get off YouTube for the millionth time. I want to slam the lid shut. But he’s supposed to be in school; he needs it to connect with…