Pandemics. Throughout history, they’ve tried to level full societies. And yet, in my 55 years, I've been privileged and insulated enough that it never really occurred to me that it was something that could happen in our time. How did we become so complacent that this happened? When this all started a year ago, there was so much I didn’t know.
A year ago I didn’t know...
- I didn’t know that it would take more than putting fever ridden people on a bed of ice to end a pandemic (After all, it worked for Doc Baker and Ma & Pa). In fact, I didn’t know that society crippling pandemics could be anything other than a thing of distant history or of far off places. And honestly? Everything I knew about pandemics before this year, I learned from LHOTP;
- I didn’t know that I could feel isolated, connected, lonely, happy, angry, bitter, joyful, unlikeable, sad, loved, perfectly fine all in the span of an hour (or even less);
- I didn’t know that, for better or for worse, most every single thing that we could do in our culture could be moved to a virtual, online environment;
- I didn’t know that I could teach online and that, while online school will NEVER hold a torch to in-person, I was actually pretty okay at it. In fact, I'm pretty sure I’ll keep recording my lessons and mini lessons going forward. Lessons that took 30-40 or more minutes with interruptions, can be delivered in 10. The way I see it, in a 45 minute class, or better, a double blocked 90 minute one, kids will have more time to work on projects...more time to communicate and collaborate...be productive. I've learned so many new ways to freshen up and improve on my classes and that’s a good outcome of this year;
- I didn’t know I could cook dinner almost every night of every week, with planned menus, and not only enjoy it, but not really want to go back to the routine we had before, which included lots of eating out and not terribly healthy ways of eating. That's also a good outcome of this year;
- I didn’t know that the “normal” I thought I missed so much was probably something that doesn't really exist outside of our memories or imagination and maybe even something I don’t think we should be striving for. I think we can do better than "back to normal." It really wasn't that great for many and we have an awful lot of work to do to make "normal" good for others outside of just ourselves. And I didn’t know that I could ever have such a visceral reaction to the expression, “the new normal.” Maybe what we mean when we say “a return to normalcy” is really a more ordered, calm, predictable, less chaotic life? Who wouldn't want that? (More on this in follow-up upcoming blog post. Maybe. If I get it out of my head and write it);
- I didn’t know that creativity and love and relationships and connection are so vital to a healthy society that they could actually help save it from collapse under the weight of all the heaviness (actually, I did know this...but now it’s more clear than ever before), or that art and creation are so needed to keep us healthy. I don't think stimulus money was wasted on the arts. Aside from the really small percentage that was allotted there, their industry was hit incredibly hard by all this. AND, content creators and artists stepped up in such a big way when this all began a year ago...how many of us watched free live-streamed concerts from performers' living rooms, or how many of our kids had stories read to them by celebrities or took online drawing lessons from them?;
- I didn’t know that a simple piece of cloth could be such a symbolic reminder of the many things that divide us;
- I didn’t know that public health concerns could be so politicized that entire groups of humans could make choices that could ultimately not just bring themselves and their own families down, but entire communities worth of people, all in the name of “not living in fear” or "giving up freedom" while at the same time being okay with others not having the same freedom;
- I didn’t know that I, an extrovert, could actually enjoy, and maybe even prefer, the quiet life of being at home with the people I love most in the world. The greatest gift of this year (for me) was time with my family and the months that my adult children have been/were home with us (something I'd never expected to have again);
- I didn’t know that, at the same time, I could miss time with friends so deeply that it legit hurts, but not really know how to fix it;
- I didn't know "Pandemic pets" were really a thing. Until I got one, and that's another good outcome of this year;
- I didn’t know that, while relief and thankful to scientists were the things I would most feel upon getting vaccinated against this virus, I would also feel pretty uncomfortable even just thinking about what it looks like to move into this next phase of pandemic life. What to keep, what to ditch, what matters;
I didn't know what happens next. I still don't. I mean, this all seemingly came from out of nowhere to begin with: One day on the news, there was a strange virus that appeared on our shores. The next, we were stocking up on toilet paper and staying home. "I don't understand what's going on," I thought at the time. "What do you mean we're closing schools and everything is stopping? It doesn't even make sense." Now, just over a year later, it's not really ending, but it sort of kind of is? But it isn't? And while so many of us are getting vaccinated, we're being warned to not let our guards down and of fourth waves and mutating variants and countries in Europe going back into lockdown. Past pandemics lasted 2 or more years. We've been doing this for a year. I'm not sure what I was expecting, but in some ways, I envisioned it being like when bears and other animals come out of hibernation in animal documentaries: Like a great scene change...Spring flowers blossom, beautiful music plays and critters start to appear in the sunshine. But that's not really what this is like. This is more like this "in between" world where it's hard to know what the "right" or "safe" thing to do is and it maybe feels more comfortable to just stay put for now.
A year ago, when we went into our lockdown mode, in the beginning, it seemed like a break from life as we knew it. There was a sense of “we’re all in this together.” That didn’t really last. I guess it really wasn’t sustainable. Trauma and pain bring out different things in different people. And each hurt that feels so terrible and personal to me feels just as terrible and personal to the next person and so on.
I wonder what sociologists and historians will conclude about this time as they study us in future years. Will they talk about the parts that brought us together? The parts that drove us apart? What broke us? Will they talk about how the people who complained most vocally about “not living in fear” or “giving up their freedoms” were the ones who never really gave up that much, anyway? Will the time coming out of this feel hopeful, joyful, free? 20 years from now, how will we talk about this time? What will the kids who did school the way they've done it this year say?
I keep coming back to that poem by Kitty O'Meara that went around this time last year and its closing stanza: "And when the danger passed, and the people joined together again, they grieved their losses, and made new choices, and dreamed new images, and created new ways to live and heal the earth fully, as they had been healed." This is my wish and hope, too.
