Cailane writes about her disappointment in her president’s leadership, inequalities in Brazil’s education system and spending her birthday in quarantine.

Monday, May 11

On March 12, when I received the news that my school would suspend classes, they told us that it would be for 15 days. I was scared by the news. Our school was one of the first to suspend activities. I remember leaving without being able to believe that it was real, that the virus had arrived, that we would be quarantined. I didn't even take my books out of the closet.

This week we completed two months of online classes. For the first time, the school postponed the return of in-person classes indefinitely, as all schools in the country are doing. Our situation gets worse every day — and not just because of the pandemic. For years Brazil has been dealing with many crises and our population is getting more and more divided every day. Now, with this horrible situation, our structures are coming down like a sandcastle and people seem more concerned with finding a specific person to blame than working together.

In the mornings, I help my mother clean the house and do yoga. Much has been said about how quarantine can impact our mental health, and I believe that. That’s why I always try to face events in the most positive way possible. I have had more time to dedicate myself to new things, like yoga, but it is sometimes difficult to stay positive. Whenever I watch a newscast, whenever I see an update on the spread of the virus, it is really difficult. It is no coincidence that my mother has been watching TV news less and less.

All of my classrooms have migrated to Google Classroom. Today, my 11 a.m. sociology exam takes place via Google Forms. When I finish, I check the messages on my cell phone for the first time and that's when I remember the day's event: the ENEM (National High School Exam).

The ENEM is an exam for high school students organized by the federal government. Many universities use ENEM results to decide which students they accept. Over the last few days, many students, teachers and celebrities have spoken out in favor of postponing the ENEM this year.

We all know that Brazil is extremely unequal. The ENEM grades reflect this. Students from all different social classes take the exam and because the quality of private and public schools vary, so do the exam results.

My school does its best to make our learning as thorough as possible, but being at home is much less productive than going to school. Still, I know I’m very privileged. My teachers are doing their best, we have a platform that works, and, most importantly, I have access to all of that. The point is that thousands of young people my age are studying at home who don’t have access to a computer and internet at home or don’t have a quiet place to concentrate. If ENEM keeps the expected date, the inequality in grades will be even greater.

Despite these issues, registration for ENEM started today. The Ministry of Education does not act like it’s going to change the date. I am sure that the demonstrations will intensify starting today as we all speak out for justice.

And when I say all, we are really all speaking out. Although public, my school is considered an “elite school.” However, I have studied in schools with many economic restrictions, and I know that the opportunities are very uneven. In social media movements, I see several friends, privileged like me, fighting for a fairer education for everyone and that fills me with pride. In those moments, I realize that I have the right friends.

Tuesday, May 12

Today I leave home for the first time in two weeks. As soon as my brother wakes up, (at least three hours later than me) he, my mother and I go to the health center close to home to get the vaccine. Not against COVID-19, unfortunately, but against the flu.

Next month, winter will begin in the Southern Hemisphere, and we all agree that the increased cases of flu, rhinitis and pneumonia can make the situation of our already weakened health system worse. For this reason, the government anticipated the national flu season and created a vaccination campaign in an attempt to try to reduce the occurrence of this disease. For at least a month, the elderly and professionals in essential areas have been vaccinated, and now it is the children's turn. I go along, and I end up getting the vaccine also because I have rhinitis, which is a chronic respiratory disease. I'm terrified of vaccinations, but I pretend not to be (while my eyes are full of tears) so my brother won't be scared.

“The point is that thousands of young people my age are studying at home who don’t have access to a computer and internet at home or don’t have a quiet place to concentrate. If ENEM keeps the expected date, the inequality in grades will be even greater.”

— Cailane Martins

When we get back, my mom decides to go to a neighbor's house. I know it is the wrong attitude to have, since I defend isolation so much but a break from quarantine is nice. I also know that my mother feels suffocated at home, unable to visit any relatives or acquaintances and having nothing to do. Quarantine theory is much easier than practice. At least we wear masks, and the visit lasts no more than 30 minutes.

The feeling of walking on the streets is strange because everything is so empty...you hardly hear any noise or movement, as if we were all numb. In a way, maybe we are.

As soon as we enter the house, I know that I already missed the history class broadcast. Even though it is my favorite subject and the subject treated — the military dictatorship — is extremely important, I do not feel so guilty. Here in Brazil, there are several channels on YouTube that aim to share knowledge, and one of my favorites, by a historian named Débora Aladim, teaches history (sometimes, much better than my school books).

On the lunch news, the news is the same: very bad. The death toll is almost unbelievable. A man died with a bag over his head as the medical team desperately attempted to imitate a respirator they did not have. Hundreds of people died in the past 24 hours. I remember, maybe a month and a half ago, being shocked by the daily deaths in Italy, which were over 700. I asked, “700 people in a single day? How is this possible?" And here I am now.

It is difficult to imagine hundreds of families crying for a loved one who will not even be able to see. Even worse is the feeling that this is not yet our worst time in the pandemic. One of my uncles says that the COVID-19 is not as bad as everyone thinks, that what kills are other health problems and that the media is lying about all of this, including falsifying death certificates. The father of one of my friends thinks exactly the same way. “Newspapers, mayors and governors are turning everything into politics. They are all planting this story of chaos and pandemic to overthrow the president,” he says. It's fanaticism. Fanaticism and ignorance.

The president remains in a controversial position. First, he said it was just the flu. Then he said only the elderly need to isolate themselves. Now, he is defending more and more the use of chloroquine. As a citizen, I am happy that the Supreme Court has given mayors and governors autonomy to make decisions about social isolation — but the president is turning this into a war, especially against the governors who are possible candidates for the presidency in 2022.

And in the midst of all this, the president fired the minister of health, whose mandate the public supported in the midst of the pandemic, because they didn’t agree on some issues, such as the use of chloroquine, for example. It seems that in the pandemic what matters is not science, but the opinion of a man who understands nothing about health, but who thinks he is a king.

Wednesday, May 13

The boredom of quarantine made my mother start a marathon of the “Twilight” film series. I hear the opening of the movie while I'm waking up, so I get up and we watch it together. Watching these films 10 years after their release is certainly weird. Edward is almost pathetic, in my opinion, but the series has good plots and I was a big fan of the story so the nostalgic content nullifies my current taste about novels (which currently would be closer to Colleen Hoover and Sarah J. Mass).

The marathon ends my plans for the morning, which on Wednesdays, is the time reserved to solve some math exercises (a monstrous subject, by the way) but it’s OK. I try to follow a routine for seven days a week and I have the right to be unproductive for at least one of them. When the film ends, my mother decides to go to the market to buy the ingredients to make my birthday cake (which is from Sunday, did I mention that?). I know that her plan was to have a party and that she is frustrated not being able to do so, but for me, cake and lasagna are more than enough. I think I am too shy to like parties. Here at home, our tradition on May 17 is to invite some friends and make a pizza night. I always liked the simplicity of this type of celebration.

This year, since I can't gather friends at a table in the backyard, I hope that May 17 will be a day of peace and silence where I can do things I like, like reading a book or watching “Star Wars.”

I keep watching the news on TV, even though I know that the only subjects available are bad news. Some people have been talking about how unbearable watching TV these days is, about how the media is making the population sick with so much bad news, but I think that doesn't make any sense. Should news programs ignore the crisis to make happy news? Many people still need to understand that the journalistic function is to keep the population informed of the reality, be it good or bad. Between the lines of all the reports on COVID-19, the news that was predictable, but that is still sad: SUS, the Brazilian health system, is collapsing.

SUS is one of the gems of Brazil. It is a project started with the 1988 Constitution, which guarantees health free of charge for all Brazilians, without any type of discrimination. It is a real treasure in a country with so many poor people. The system has its flaws, for sure. The queues are very long in some cases and the service is not of the best quality in some locations, but this is because, you see, we are not in the habit of valuing our own assets. SUS, which is one of the largest and most complex public health systems in the world and provides services ranging from blood pressure assessment to organ transplantation, still does not receive the attention and investment it deserves. It is a pity that our custom, as a nation, is to discuss internally and always focus on defects, and never on the great victories we have already achieved.

“Some people have been talking about how unbearable watching TV these days is, about how the media is making the population sick with so much bad news, but I think that doesn’t make any sense. Should news programs ignore the crisis to make happy news? ”

— Cailane Martins

The point is that SUS, which is criticized so much, is at risk of privatization, even though it is carrying the health crisis on its back and taking care of the poor population, which is — in this and in all crises — always the most affected. I continue to follow all classes in the Google Classroom, but I can't help feeling discouraged.

Thursday, May 14

If everything was normal, there would be a lot of celebrations at school. In my group of friends, we have a tradition of collecting money and buying a surprise gift for every birthday, and the month of May is the most festive because my friend Fernando and I have very close anniversary dates (May 12 and 17) which means that we would have two surprises in the same week.

I wonder if I will miss all the hugs from my classmates at school, if in this isolation I will still feel that my birthday is still my birthday. It is hard to think that I will be locked inside the house all day. I wonder if anyone will remember, or if the date will go unnoticed by everyone, including myself.

My dad is the only one who keeps leaving the house, as he keeps working. Not willingly, for sure. Among all of us, he is the one who fears the most for this whole situation, and I notice him becoming more and more tense with each new update of cases in our city and in the surrounding cities. My mom is different. She takes precautions, but always says she won't despair and let the pandemic go to her head. They balance the care we have here at home.

All the time inside the house has also made my mother more and more creative in the kitchen, which means that the house is filling up with delicious (and not always so healthy) foods. As she says, “With so much free time, we only think about eating all day.” She is always right.

Friday, May 15

Fridays have always been my favorite day of the week for giving me a sense of accomplishment and tranquility. Today is no different.

I spend my morning between exercise and study. I am nervous that I have not yet studied for the essay exam (which, as the name says, is a simulation of the entrance exam essay) that my school is holding tomorrow. It is complicated because you don’t know in advance what you will have to write — it could be a letter to president, it could be the script of a podcast, it could be a manifesto. Around 11:30 a.m., I am studying in the living room while my brother watches TV when I hear the opening song from the “Plantão da Globo.”

Globo is one of the most important television broadcasters in the country and the “Plantão da Globo” is an extraordinary emergency news that interrupts the broadcaster's programming to announce an event of great relevance for the country. The opening song, known (and feared!) by all Brazilians has already announced the death of presidents and featured important publics, attacks, major accidents and, today, the new minister of health announces his resignation, after less than a month in office and at a critical moment in the pandemic.

The president dismissed the previous minister of health, Luiz Henrique Mandetta on April 16 for disagreeing with him on managing the pandemic crisis. Nelson Teich, a doctor with no political background, took over the ministry the next day. Unfortunately, it appears that the new minister faced the same problems as the old one. The president continued to disrespect all the recommendations of the ministry, participating in demonstrations and interfered with the minister’s work.

I do not even know what to say.

Saturday, May 16

On Saturday, I wake up at 6 a.m., nervous about the essay practice. Until 9 a.m., when the test starts, I study all the types of documents that I could be asked to write. When it starts, I write, proofread and rewrite until the end of the exam at 11 a.m.

My mom goes to the market again to buy fresh ingredients for tomorrow's lunch. In the afternoon, we make a beautiful birthday cake (another family tradition), I finish some homework and start reading a book called “Snowman,” a police thriller that looks really good.

I decide that I'm going to spend tomorrow away from my cell phone. I realized on past birthdays, my first thought on waking up was about the possible texts that other people wrote for me, who remembered and who forgot. This should not be the focus. Maybe I'm being wise or maybe I'm being silly, but my birthday is my day, and it should be a day when I can be myself, detached from others. I will be immensely grateful to all friends and family who remember me, it will be an honor, without a doubt, but my day should not revolve around that. I am the focus, and perhaps the fullness will be greater if my happiness is subject only to myself and not to a text sent or forgotten by someone.

Unfortunately, my day, which had been calm, changed when I read a BBC news article: “Coronavirus: the fear that generates the situation of the pandemic in Brazil in its countries” (I usually read news in Spanish to learn about that language). I already knew that Brazil is the most affected country in South America and that most of our neighboring countries are taking precautions and distancing themselves from us. But I never imagined that the president of Paraguay would declare on open television he does not foresee a reopening of the border and that Brazil is the main threat in the spread of COVID-19; nor that Alberto Fernández, president of Argentina, would say that my country is a bad example in the fight against the coronavirus. Statements as public as these...hurt me. They hurt more than I can explain. They hurt me because I love my country, I love my people, and I don't want us to be outcasts.

But the worst thing is that, unfortunately, I need to agree. We are a threat. We are a bad example. And we shouldn't be.

Sunday, May 17

I live my birthday as planned away from social networks. It's great.

I wake up early and watch the mass on TV. Math prevents me from spending that special day without studying, but that's OK. We eat lasagna and cake for lunch, and I'm very happy. During the afternoon, I had nothing to do at times, but it felt good and not uncomfortable. I spent most of the afternoon sitting on the sidewalk, sunning myself and talking to my mother and brother. When night falls, I think about watching a “Harry Potter” movie, but my mom is curious to watch the “Snowman” movie, the book I'm reading, so I commit a crime: I watch the movie before finishing the book. I almost burst out laughing at how bad the movie is, and, being in the middle of the book, I can only say that it is an unfortunate adaptation, since the book is still great, just like the lasagna reheated at dinner. And, under pressure from my mother, I agree to go on WhatsApp to send a photo.

I see at a glance that more than 20 people sent me happy birthday messages (but I don't answer any, not yet). For me, it's a lot. I am immensely happy that so many people remember, and immensely grateful. In my opinion, this is the real gift, along with a WONDERFUL drawing that Sofia made for me. She is an amazing artist and friend.

On Monday morning, a friend sends me news that scientists suspect they have found a cure for COVID-19. We joke that it is my birthday gift to the universe. However, if the suspicion materializes, I would prefer to believe that it is the universe's birthday gift to me.

Cailane Martins

is a 17-year-old Brazilian student. She likes to find the solutions to difficult problems, night readings that last until 4 a.m. and kind people. You can follow her on Twitter.