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Letter Nineteen: Dear Future Generations - October 29th 2020
Dear future generations, It’s six months since I last wrote you. In that time, 44 million cases have spread the world. In the US alone 500,000 new cases just last week. The news of over one million deaths spread with a whimper. I am not the same person I was when this started.
I have done all I can to follow the advice of the WHO. Mask wearing, distancing and no one inside our home that doesn’t live there. To be honest, I don’t dislike the space to be myself outside the pressures of society. While I miss friends, movies and concerts - the release from the grind I was in previously has been rewarding. A gift.
That gift has not been without a cost. As our city is closing restaurants, bars and limiting events for a second time. I fear the next round of closures to small businesses. While I agree that indoor’s without masks is dangerous and closing spaces that pose risks is right, there has been no financial support for those closed spaces since July. I fear for my small business friends. I’ve been quietly sending cash to friends who are out of work, what little I can send, without saying anything. Hoping that it would help among the darkness. Unemployment benefits are 168.00 per week. I don’t know any one with a family that can live on that.
The racial unrest pulses underneath everything. Another man was killed by police this week in Philadelphia, sparking more riots and protests in that city. Here, the neighborhoods hardest hit by Covid are those who have the least among us. Those neighborhoods kept small through decades of discrimination, redlining and racists practices.
In my city, there is no police reform. There have been protests everyday. Peaceful, beautiful outdoor gatherings where people have danced, read poetry and gathered to fight for change. They are not covered on the news. Only the riots. Because everyone wears masks, the spread from these events has been safe. It’s the events without mitigations that have spread the virus more fully.
The president had Covid and recovered, it has vilified his position that the pandemic is almost over. Scientists disagree. The drug he used and is claiming success with is not a cure but a bandaid to save lives. There are only 500,000 doses of that drug available. They will go to the privileged first. To them, it will feel like it’s almost over.
We have settled into our little routines and rituals at home. Setting boundaries with others has been difficult. Family in particular. This situation has forced me to examine how I concede my own boundaries when faced with conflict. I’ve had to learn the art of giving zero fucks.
It’s the first time in my life where I have been forced to defend my health in this way. Where the consequences of staying silent are greater than those of not speaking up. Also a privilege not lost of me. That has been both liberating and exhausting. It’s meant cutting people and events out of my life for safety and nursing my own hurts when bullied for being too strict.
All the while a large third wave is sweeping our country and our hospitals are crying out for the population to listen. This time, there is no campaign to “stay home, stay safe.” People are over it. They have accepted that they might die. The worst, is that acceptance will cause more pain for others. There is no national rally cry. For those like myself, who are cautious - it’s easy to feel gaslighted into lowering standards to peer pressure.
We are fortunate, and have not lost anyone due to the disease but as I study past pandemics. I know that we are in for a long journey. 2021 will be lost to limbo as well. In 1918, it took five years for the virus to run through the population. It wiped out millions before it was over. I think we may be on target for the same. So I am preparing myself to be in Covid purgatory till 2025.
As we prepare for winter, we have purchased a treadmill and begun thinking about how to keep ourselves sane. We’ve bought snow suits to be able to visit friends outside without freezing. My pandemic puppy sits at my feet. She’s certainly kept our minds healthy. I’ll likely start baking bread as it gets colder, I think with a laugh. This evening we are doing a drive through haunted house experience. Because fun and silliness is what gets us through. As the holidays loom, scientists and doctors are warning us that we should not host large gatherings. I can’t see the majority of Americans behaving, so it’s likely by February we will have another spike.
Living like this is hard but it’s crazy to me that more and more people are willing to roll the dice. Perhaps I will survive the virus, but I could spread it to those who won’t. That simple fact is what keeps me cautious. I care. I remind myself of that while I see friends getting on airplanes and flying away for vacations - to the three countries our passport works in - dining inside at restaurants, hosting parties, working events that have maxed restrictions, kids playing sports with no masks and family making fun of me for wearing a mask at my grandmothers funeral.
It’s hard work to care. When others won’t. It’s hard work not to judge others either. I know there are people like me out there. I think the loudest are those throwing caution to the wind, feeling confident they are making the right decision. I know real life is more nuanced in decision making. I take comfort form my doctor and nurse friends who tell me that as long as I use my PPE properly, wash my hands and keep my distance - I will be safer.
And so winter begins. I continue to live in these strange times and pray to not loose loved ones.
To those reading this in the future, looking for answers if you are experiencing the next 100 year virus. I can tell you that life in this space is all about expressing ones feelings and learning to find joy in the smallest places. In the warm furry baby laying over my feet as I type. The candle filling my space with warmth. The comfort in virtual coffee with a friend. A walk in the park. In the tears over the death counts every day. In the fear and anger that swells me a write, dance and paint. In finding small freedoms and spaces to breathe deep, fresh air. In laughter. I fear we are doomed to repeat history over and over until we decide to behave differently. But if you are in a time where there is no global unity and it’s every person for yourself, like it is for me now, know you can find joy. Even when the world is falling apart around you.
#AboutLastNight: After the #PartyToThePeople, we had the afterparty at @eightoneshop with #LFTP aka @livefromthepentagon, the flagship artists being @3bubbleandjgray & one of the artists, @frenchlamonte showing his art for the #LIFTOFF charity event. /// #DIRTYKNOWSNASTY (at Eight One)
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