It’s remarkable to think how much has happened over the past few months - and how much of it has quickly become normalised.

If, like me, you’ve now got some time off and a chance to draw breath, the litany of landmark events in Scottish education alone is utterly remarkable to consider: schools closed to most for months on end; exams cancelled for the first time in history; school inspections suspended until who knows when; the flagship policy to nearly double free early years and childcare hours put into stasis, to name just a few.

But with time finally to reflect amid a change of scenery - albeit Aberdeen’s, which is as glamorous as it’s getting for me this year - I’ve also been thinking about how the dynamics in and around education have changed, whether it’s for the better and whether it will last.

Goodness knows, here at Tes Scotland we have documented the myriad stresses and huge anxieties Covid-19 has caused education professionals. But there have also been countless examples of teachers and students making the best of the situation, of a heartening camaraderie among educators that bodes well for whatever challenges still lie ahead. The innovations in online learning and the countless connections forged in a spirit of “we’re all in this together” - all of these will benefit pupils for years to come.

For a while, politicians left their cudgels to one side. In a time of a global crisis, there was recognition that grandstanding and using education as a political plaything didn’t seem right. We got a glimpse of what a more collaborative approach to politics - still sceptical, still questioning, but with the vitriol extracted and the rhetoric dialled down - might look like. It was good while it briefly lasted.

Lockdown has been difficult in so many ways, but its rigid parameters also offered some certainty and clarity. Within them, some found it possible to tune out the inconsequential white noise of lives lived in a rush. Families spent more time together, instead of dashing around to meet others’ work and social expectations. Being cooped up at home was, of course, often a huge headache for so many reasons, but, with the usual hurly-burly on hold, there was a chance to reassess what really matters.

And, if we ever doubted it, the importance of human connection has become abundantly clear in lockdown. When my 11-year-old daughter got to hug her friend for the first time in months last week, after Nicola Sturgeon removed the requirement for children aged 11 and under to adhere to social distancing, she was overjoyed. There may be all manner of restrictions placed on school life next year to keep Covid-19 under control, but we must also be mindful of the toll on children’s mental health if they are forced to think twice about something as natural as playing with and hugging their friends.

As children return to school, then, the emphasis must not be all about catching up on the school-based learning they have missed, but on the joy of being reunited with peers and school staff. Teacher and writer Kenny Pieper said in a piece for Tes Scotland in May that the first day back should be a celebration. As he put it, “knowing that they survived one of the most traumatic disasters of their lifetimes, might be education enough for young people”.

We have all been through - and will continue to go through for some time to come - an epochal and traumatic event. Now, every personal choice, every action in a school, every political decision, should be made with that in mind as we gradually return to something approaching life before Covid-19.

The next few months, then, must not be a mechanistic attempt to reset things to how they were, in schools or anywhere else. The first priority, instead, should be to ask everyone around us a simple question: “How are you?”

This article originally appeared in the 10 July 2020 issue under the headline “After the traumas endured last term, humanity must come first”