I do not enjoy reading stories about people who died because they did not get vaccinated against COVID-19. I like it even less when it happens to someone in my extended family, but I’ve now had that experience. It’s tragic.

I have an 11-year-old son who is not yet eligible for a vaccine, and we have to decide if it’s safe to send him to middle school. It’s a grade six through eight school, but only incoming sixth graders like my son are ineligible. Originally, the mask mandate was going to be optional throughout the entire school system, including the elementary schools, but that was reversed once the CDC recommended masks for all students and staff regardless of vaccination status. The school board meeting was disrupted by angry anti-vaxxers, canceled, and held virtually the next day.

The district got through the last school year without much incident, but the Delta version is completely different. We can see this clearly by looking at the South. It’s not just that vaccination rates are much lower in the South, but also that they start their scholastic year several weeks earlier than in the North. That gives me the opportunity to see how the schools are faring down there before I make the call on where my son will go to school. Here’s what I’m seeing:

With both siblings wearing backpacks, Mkayla Robinson put her arms around her little brother, and the two smiled for a photo on Friday, Aug. 6., as they prepared to leave home to start her final year of junior high and his first day of kindergarten. But eight days into her eighth-grade year at Raleigh Junior High, Robinson died of COVID-19 on Saturday, Aug. 14, mere hours after testing positive for the virus.

She was one of at least 5,993 Mississippi students who tested positive for COVID-19 in the last two weeks, according to data the Mississippi State Department of Health released today. At the same point in August 2020, the Mississippi State Department had reported just 199 cases among students; total confirmed COVID-19 cases did not surpass 5,000 until the end of the semester in December 2020.

Last week alone, 803 schools reported 4,521 positive cases among students. Schools have also confirmed 1,496 cases among teachers and educational staff this month so far. The situation and the deaths of at least two teenagers from COVID-19 since late July has led to increased calls for Gov. Tate Reeves to reverse his opposition to a statewide mask mandate and take aggressive action to stem the viral tide.

One thing that seems clear is that the transmissibility of the Delta version is defeating mitigation efforts that were previously successful. So, while I’m glad my son’s school will require masks, I know I shouldn’t expect that to prevent an outbreak. I’m not sure how much more dangerous Delta is for kids than prior strains of COVID, but it does seem to be worse.

Since the beginning of August, schools have quarantined at least 24,769 students for COVID-19 exposures, including 20,334 this week alone. During the first two weeks of 2020, schools quarantined just 2,035 students. Public-health leaders have repeatedly warned that the delta variant is far more contagious than earlier iterations of the virus and possibly more dangerous for children, including healthy young people.

“In the 2020 version of COVID-19, most children infected did not show symptoms that developed into serious health conditions. That’s not the case today, as nationally and in Mississippi, the Delta variant of COVID-19 is driving up the number of children hospitalized at Children’s of Mississippi,” the University of Mississippi Medical Center said in a news release yesterday.

The Children’s of Mississippi, the state’s only pediatric hospital, is currently full of children sick with COVID-19, including several on ventilators for life support.

I know that there’s a gigantic difference between Mississippi and my part of Pennsylvania in terms of the vaccination rate and also basic compliance with common sense mitigation efforts like masking and social distancing, and this is reflected in the respective positivity rates. COVID infection is rising where I live but it’s still quite low, and if it begins to spread it will no doubt spread slower than in the South. That provides some comfort, but I’m struggling to convince myself that I can tolerate this level of risk.

For a good part of the last school year, no one in my family was vaccinated and the main concern was less that my son would get infected than that he’d infect older family members. Now I am much more worried that he could get seriously ill, although that fear has never been far from my mind. But last year he had a virtual option, which we took advantage of and in which he thrived. They are not offering that option now, as they expect it would collapse once the vaccination becomes available for kids younger than twelve.

So, my choice is to send him to school or to keep him out and use a statewide virtual program. He doesn’t want that, and we don’t want that for him. Since the choices are terrible and don’t seem to be getting any better, I’m angry all the time. More like seething mad, actually, which isn’t good for me or anyone who has to live with me.

Yet, there’s nothing I can do but take in all the information I can gather and make a call one way or the other, knowing that I’ll be terribly depressed and anxious either way.

That’s the context in which I digest news stories about people dying because they refused to get vaccinated. That’s what I’m feeling when my school board meeting which is supposed to provide me with the information I need, is cancelled because parents show up who refuse to wear a mask.

It’s a kind of murderous and explosive rage which is totally uncharacteristic for me, but I think understandable for any parent who is having trouble figuring out how to protect a child and has to deal with people who are making that task more difficult.