Your pandemic is different than mine
Your pandemic is different than mine
We’re all experiencing this pandemic in different ways. But that doesn’t mean we’re not in it together.
Welcome to Not a Doctor, the only newsletter about health and science that breaks into song about solidarity.
I’m Melody Schreiber, a journalist and the editor of What We Didn’t Expect. I’m not a doctor, or a scientist, or really an expert of any kind. I just like to ask questions and try to find the answers to them.
I hope you all had a pleasant weekend, especially in places where spring decided to make an appearance, and I hope you were able to enjoy the fine weather while staying safe and healthy.
And I hope you didn’t see a few photos online of people being less-than-safe and get angry about it. I did, but then I had a change of mind. That’s what I want to talk about today.
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Change is in the air
There’s something I’ve been feeling, and maybe you’ve been feeling it, too. Maybe it’s the change in weather; maybe it’s the move into eight weeks — two months — of sheltering in place. Very likely it has to do with the news that some places are reopening — in some cases, long before they should, but in other cases, in ways that make sense.
It feels like things are changing — maybe even getting better. And in some places, they are. Confirmed cases in New York, for instance, are declining, even though cases elsewhere — particularly in certain rural areas — are rising rapidly.
That means that your pandemic, wherever you are, looks different from mine.
This has always been true to some extent. It’s the nature of an outbreak for some areas to be harder-hit at different times. And there are a lot of smaller, personal reasons for why your life might look different — you might live in a tenth-floor apartment or in a house with a yard, you might have had to keep working during this time or you might have stayed home for weeks on end. You might have pets and kids and partners, or you might be entirely alone.
But as the pandemic stretches on, these differences might become even more magnified. If the city or county next to yours begins to relax its restrictions, you might chafe at the ongoing restrictions in your own life. If you see people beginning to venture outside, you might freak out about how unsafe they’re being. It can be hard to see people going to the beach ~during a pandemic~. I want to go to the beach so, so much!
This is likely going to happen more and more. And there are two things I want you to remember in this time: first, the circumstances of others’ lives are largely invisible to you, and second, even as the pandemic shifts and changes, we are still in this together.
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What we don’t know
I’ll admit it: when I first saw this photo of the National Mall over the weekend, I uttered a word not fit for a toddler’s ears.
Source: @leswonders/Twitter
I immediately showed it to Jack, my husband. But he didn’t have the same reaction I did.
“We can’t really see how close together people actually are,” he said, squinting at the photo. And besides, he pointed out, we don’t know the circumstances of their lives.
Maybe they’ve recovered from Covid-19 already, and they’re no longer contagious or susceptible. Maybe they’ve been cooped up inside for weeks on end, and desperately need a mental-health break. Maybe they’re tourists from other places with fewer restrictions who aren’t aware of DC’s rules.
There were other photos from New York, specifically from the Christopher Street Pier, that showed people gathering closely together. But, again, we don’t know their circumstances; and some angles of other photos show that plenty of people were spaced appropriately.
And here’s another thing. Even if they were crowded, those are only two places, with a handful of people. Just like the paltry numbers of people showing up to protest stay-at-home restrictions, they don’t represent all or even most of us.
Here’s another photo of New York:
Source: Anup Kaphle
Here’s another view of DC this weekend, where people are spaced apart.
Source: Daniel Alvarenga
Yes, even outside, people need to observe the rules with at least six feet of space, keeping in mind that the virus can last for up to a week on certain surfaces. (More on that in a later update!) Yes, there are some people who are flouting the rules and recommendations, and they need stronger guidance from officials about how to keep themselves and others safe.
But if you and those around you are taking the proper precautions, going outside can be great for your physical and mental health. It might still not be your cup of tea — for instance, we’re still avoiding parks and trails that are likely to see bigger crowds, just to be on the safe side — but that’s because we’re lucky enough to have other options.
Especially as summer begins to heat up, and many people are living indoors with no air-conditioning, it’s important to remember that we don’t know other people’s situations. It will also be extremely important to make sure that people from all backgrounds and situations have equal access to outdoor resources.
Looking at the same photos of one protest or one crowded park might only fuel our worry and resentment. And that can be downright dangerous — because the last thing we need to do is get angry at other people for how they’re dealing with this pandemic. What we need to do is remember that we’re in it together, and we need to have empathy for those who are doing the best they can.
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We are not alone
One of the comforting parts, if “comforting” is the right word, of this pandemic has been our sense of solidarity. (Solidarity forever!)
It’s really hard to see the world change in an instant. To have our lives suddenly circumscribed by fear, by the possibility of bringing indescribable suffering upon ourselves and our loved ones, to feel everything closing down and shifting around us — it’s a trauma all its own.
Before, when bad things have happened in my life, one of the worst parts has been the feeling of being alone. I’ve looked up and seen the world continuing as it always did, and I felt like I was the only person suffering in the world. I knew it wasn’t true, and I knew that my own suffering doesn’t even rate with what goes on in the world. But feeling alone during a crisis can be one of the worst parts.
But during the pandemic, I’ve clung to the knowledge that we’re not alone, even when we feel cut off and isolated here at home. Every person in the world is going through some version of this.
We can’t forget that. Even as we writhe with jealousy over other places’ relaxation of restrictions, even as we worry about what springtime will mean for rising cases in our own neighborhoods — we have to remember that we are all doing the best with what we have.
That is what is going to get us through this — knowing that we are all working toward the same goal: staying safe, staying healthy, working toward a future without fear.
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As always, please leave a comment or email me with questions and feedback at melodyaschreiber@gmail.com. I love hearing from readers!
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