The COVID Chronicles is a Humanities Amped creative writing and journaling initiative designed to encourage our friends and the larger global community to document their lives during this COVID-19 pandemic. Through prompts generated by members of the Humanities Amped community, participants in COVID Chronicles will be able to respond in writing. Be it poetry or essay, journal entry or prose, it is our hope that we are able to encapsulate this history through real time accounts from those of us living in this moment.
Prompts are posted three times a week on our social media. To participate, submit your work at the link below, or post with #C19Amped.
Prompts are posted three times a week on our social media. To participate, submit your work at the link below, or post with #C19Amped.
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Three things I've learned during the Coronavirus crisis:
1)How to assemble a small piece of furniture following directions that have no words on them.
2) How to get spilled candle wax off of a wood surface (with a blow dryer and a wet rag! Thanks, YouTube.)
3) Even during a crisis, men will try to mack women in the street who are minding their own business, looking for toilet paper and Clorox wipes.
1)How to assemble a small piece of furniture following directions that have no words on them.
2) How to get spilled candle wax off of a wood surface (with a blow dryer and a wet rag! Thanks, YouTube.)
3) Even during a crisis, men will try to mack women in the street who are minding their own business, looking for toilet paper and Clorox wipes.
Ummi M.
58, Jersey City, NJ
How do I feel?
I am sad, frustrated, stressed but mainly… lost. I don’t even
know what I am supposed to do right now. When I said that I couldn’t wait for summer… It’s really not what I meant. I am thinking about this year since primary school. Why can’t I have my whole 10 months? People are telling you how fast this year is going…
Imagine when you can’t even have it all. I wanted it all. The prom, the graduation and all the activities that the years before us had. I never thought I would say that but, I would’ve even taken the exams. Sadly, now, we have to face reality. We are not going
to have any of these, or at least not “normally ”.
Despite all that, I am still hopeful. That’s the only thing that
keeps me from wanting to tear everything apart. That’s what you do when you are lost, you hope. Hope for the best. I know that there are good things that will come out of this. Class of 2020, we will probably never be the same.
Because we will not truly live our last day of high school with
all our friends by our side, we will live every moment with them to the fullest. Because we will not live our graduation, we will learn to enjoy the path, not just the finish line. Because we will not have our “gala of excellence”, we will learn to do the
efforts without always having the recognition at the end. Because we will not have our prom, we will not wait anymore for big events to have fun, we will create funny moments every single day we live. Because of all that, we will learn to never take something
for granted. We may be lacking a few notions in math, French and English but what life is teaching us right now is way more important than all of that. It’s with a tear on my cheek that I tell you: we will grow from this.
I am sad, frustrated, stressed but mainly… lost. I don’t even
know what I am supposed to do right now. When I said that I couldn’t wait for summer… It’s really not what I meant. I am thinking about this year since primary school. Why can’t I have my whole 10 months? People are telling you how fast this year is going…
Imagine when you can’t even have it all. I wanted it all. The prom, the graduation and all the activities that the years before us had. I never thought I would say that but, I would’ve even taken the exams. Sadly, now, we have to face reality. We are not going
to have any of these, or at least not “normally ”.
Despite all that, I am still hopeful. That’s the only thing that
keeps me from wanting to tear everything apart. That’s what you do when you are lost, you hope. Hope for the best. I know that there are good things that will come out of this. Class of 2020, we will probably never be the same.
Because we will not truly live our last day of high school with
all our friends by our side, we will live every moment with them to the fullest. Because we will not live our graduation, we will learn to enjoy the path, not just the finish line. Because we will not have our “gala of excellence”, we will learn to do the
efforts without always having the recognition at the end. Because we will not have our prom, we will not wait anymore for big events to have fun, we will create funny moments every single day we live. Because of all that, we will learn to never take something
for granted. We may be lacking a few notions in math, French and English but what life is teaching us right now is way more important than all of that. It’s with a tear on my cheek that I tell you: we will grow from this.
Laurence A.
16, Quebec, CA
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A Day in the Life of COVID-19
We watch birdfeeder finches from inside, the window pane wide above breakfast plates of eggs and watermelon. We both stay home and I feel fine, but tested positive. He tested negative but because of me, he is stuck here. He raises an empty plastic tub, from the Mediterranean dates, and asks, “could this work as a planter?” “What did you have in mind?” I ask. He shrugs, “thoughts.” Maybe he means mint or lavender seeds, but I imagine this bin sown with tiny thoughts in damp soil, sprouted concepts to be propagated, irrigated, incubated greenhoused into a feral future in which we easy-stride beneath branches of bluebirds and chickadees, and breezes kiss our unmasked faces. Patrice M.
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Nayyir R.
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What I have missed the most
is myself. & I was not aware of this before—the virus. Or maybe I was. I forgot about pieces of my younger self. I was searching for myself long before— before the virus slowed the spin of Earth—pressed a pillow over the face of my calendar. & this is selfish. But uncertainty is the most intense trauma. The only daily guarantee, now, is that I will check my temperature & wash my hands—constantly.
But—I think I have found more of me, now, through this. Before I was living my dream in Germany, living in the moment, looking forward to the future, listening to more languages than I could learn in a lifetime. The cobblestone—silent now.
I have spent social distancing digging my old self out. I seek to understand my current self better.
I have spent time watching video clips of pro wrestling. I was a WWF kid—the Attitude era. The Rock was my favorite. I had the VHS tapes. During quarantine I have re-watched the matches & the promos I used to watch over & over again— rambunctious in my mother’s living room. I have watched documentaries about what happened to the wrestlers I watched at an age when we were all trying to figure this world out. Like we are all once again—there different age but same mind—trying to untangle the world. I do not think I knew myself then & I cannot say how pro wrestling influenced me— what the Attitude era did to me.
I grew up with The Undertaker. The Ultimate Warrior. D-Generation X. Mick Foley. JR & Jerry. Monday Night Raw my time—escape—to sink into the theatrical storyline. Disappear into the millions & millions. I remember the action figures & kid-size championship belt.
I don’t watch wrestling anymore—I haven’t since I was probably fifteen. But, since quarantine began, I have been reaching back—reigniting memories.
During quarantine I have played video games I played when I was growing up. Games I used to beg my mom to buy me. Goldeneye. Wrestlemania 2000. Super Mario Bros 3. Warcraft II. They are all on the internet now— play them for free in browser. I would have dreamed of this access then. I guess dreams do come true—sometimes.
Bret Hart. Macho Man Randy Savage. Sting. The Dudley Boyz. The Road Warriors. Wrestling—to me—is what Dante read before he wrote The Divine Comedy.
What I have missed the most are the parts of me I forgot about— the lost concrete buried.
I have spent this time digging myself up. Oh my—the rock pile—oh how have I changed & how much more I find I need to change about myself.
I am picking up the pieces of me— during quarantine—& figuring out there is still more changing I need to do. & maybe the world needs to change too. & I should stop resisting. & we too.
Maybe I should stop consuming so much news & quit checking my temperature. Maybe I should stop thinking about my unadaptable original plans & start making new ones. Maybe I should adapt instead of forcing what I expected—& now what I still want to expect. The truth is I hate this virus. I hate what it is doing to the world. A younger me would say that it was mine—the world. Me—now— it is not so simple. It took me since
mid-March to realize change is inevitable.
How I adapt to change is all I can control. Who I am now is always more than who I was. If you are alone— find your former self. Watch WWF matches again. Listen to the audience burst when the glass shatters the speakers before Stone Cold Steve Austin emerges from behind the curtain. Jump up & down in your mom’s living room again. Remember your heartbeat—your body administering excitement.
I am not interested in watching new pro wrestling. It is not for the new me. I see pro wrestling only through the lens of nostalgia. It leads me to myself through the uncertain future—the retrospect. New wrestling is not the same but neither is this world.
& I can be angry about it & that is okay. & I can cry. & I can watch the world fall apart around me. & I do this. & that is okay. This is the world sideways.
This is my calendar burning.
But there is something inside of me. Call it idealism. Call it religious optimism.
I have always heard my heartbeat in a piano— cellos make me cry. Cry & fall apart—that is okay.
Watch old videos, play old games. Waste my time. Hit rock bottom. Find my—old—self to learn more about my current— see my ocean in the sky.
I am a combination of what I was, what I have learned, & what I want to be. I tell myself in the mirror—unshaven— black circles around my eyes: Plan a future in which you find
yourself or whatever you want—
to find just stay home
for a while—stay with yourself for a while. Stay alive for a while. Hold on. Please. Hold on with me.
The year I was born was the year of Wrestlemania 2. Hulk Hogan vs. King Kong Bundy. It was—you can watch it by staying home for a while.
Hold on. one—two— three.
is myself. & I was not aware of this before—the virus. Or maybe I was. I forgot about pieces of my younger self. I was searching for myself long before— before the virus slowed the spin of Earth—pressed a pillow over the face of my calendar. & this is selfish. But uncertainty is the most intense trauma. The only daily guarantee, now, is that I will check my temperature & wash my hands—constantly.
But—I think I have found more of me, now, through this. Before I was living my dream in Germany, living in the moment, looking forward to the future, listening to more languages than I could learn in a lifetime. The cobblestone—silent now.
I have spent social distancing digging my old self out. I seek to understand my current self better.
I have spent time watching video clips of pro wrestling. I was a WWF kid—the Attitude era. The Rock was my favorite. I had the VHS tapes. During quarantine I have re-watched the matches & the promos I used to watch over & over again— rambunctious in my mother’s living room. I have watched documentaries about what happened to the wrestlers I watched at an age when we were all trying to figure this world out. Like we are all once again—there different age but same mind—trying to untangle the world. I do not think I knew myself then & I cannot say how pro wrestling influenced me— what the Attitude era did to me.
I grew up with The Undertaker. The Ultimate Warrior. D-Generation X. Mick Foley. JR & Jerry. Monday Night Raw my time—escape—to sink into the theatrical storyline. Disappear into the millions & millions. I remember the action figures & kid-size championship belt.
I don’t watch wrestling anymore—I haven’t since I was probably fifteen. But, since quarantine began, I have been reaching back—reigniting memories.
During quarantine I have played video games I played when I was growing up. Games I used to beg my mom to buy me. Goldeneye. Wrestlemania 2000. Super Mario Bros 3. Warcraft II. They are all on the internet now— play them for free in browser. I would have dreamed of this access then. I guess dreams do come true—sometimes.
Bret Hart. Macho Man Randy Savage. Sting. The Dudley Boyz. The Road Warriors. Wrestling—to me—is what Dante read before he wrote The Divine Comedy.
What I have missed the most are the parts of me I forgot about— the lost concrete buried.
I have spent this time digging myself up. Oh my—the rock pile—oh how have I changed & how much more I find I need to change about myself.
I am picking up the pieces of me— during quarantine—& figuring out there is still more changing I need to do. & maybe the world needs to change too. & I should stop resisting. & we too.
Maybe I should stop consuming so much news & quit checking my temperature. Maybe I should stop thinking about my unadaptable original plans & start making new ones. Maybe I should adapt instead of forcing what I expected—& now what I still want to expect. The truth is I hate this virus. I hate what it is doing to the world. A younger me would say that it was mine—the world. Me—now— it is not so simple. It took me since
mid-March to realize change is inevitable.
How I adapt to change is all I can control. Who I am now is always more than who I was. If you are alone— find your former self. Watch WWF matches again. Listen to the audience burst when the glass shatters the speakers before Stone Cold Steve Austin emerges from behind the curtain. Jump up & down in your mom’s living room again. Remember your heartbeat—your body administering excitement.
I am not interested in watching new pro wrestling. It is not for the new me. I see pro wrestling only through the lens of nostalgia. It leads me to myself through the uncertain future—the retrospect. New wrestling is not the same but neither is this world.
& I can be angry about it & that is okay. & I can cry. & I can watch the world fall apart around me. & I do this. & that is okay. This is the world sideways.
This is my calendar burning.
But there is something inside of me. Call it idealism. Call it religious optimism.
I have always heard my heartbeat in a piano— cellos make me cry. Cry & fall apart—that is okay.
Watch old videos, play old games. Waste my time. Hit rock bottom. Find my—old—self to learn more about my current— see my ocean in the sky.
I am a combination of what I was, what I have learned, & what I want to be. I tell myself in the mirror—unshaven— black circles around my eyes: Plan a future in which you find
yourself or whatever you want—
to find just stay home
for a while—stay with yourself for a while. Stay alive for a while. Hold on. Please. Hold on with me.
The year I was born was the year of Wrestlemania 2. Hulk Hogan vs. King Kong Bundy. It was—you can watch it by staying home for a while.
Hold on. one—two— three.
William S.
33, heidelberg, Germany
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For the Last Responders
They receive the zippered black bags the shrouded remains of bus drivers nurses cops sanitation workers train operators doctors mothers fathers brothers sisters children friends not the frontline- they are the last line accustomed to giving a hug, holding a hand now they must stand 6 feet away while one of us, alone, hovers over what used to be what could have been not the first responders no 7pm clapping or banging pots for them they are the last responders When all that could be done has been they come forward to receive what's left. Ummi M.
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Sacha "Satchet" B.
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Third week of confinement
During the first days of this pandemic, when Netflix was my only hope of entertainment, the impression of missing something kept growing in me. Because being in quarantine at the end of high school is not easy. Not being able to see our friends, thinking about memories that will never be created... It breaks the idea of what we had in mind for the end of this adventure. Even if we wanted more than anything to leave, leaving without an appropriate goodbye would be hard.
After a few days of feeling useless and having watched Netflix long enough that my sofa had a pit in the middle, I realised that never will we have had so much time just to live as now. To live complete moments like waiting for your bread to come out of the toaster without the usual thousands of thoughts shattering your mind. Or start a book and read until late without worrying about time. The schools and stores that are closing should not keep us from being able to grow. In fact, this lockdown is a huge opportunity to heal because it is forcing us to face ourselves. So, I decided to live my quarantine fully, to take advantage of the free time that life, or rather COVID 19, offers me. To read, listen, rest, exercise, create art, watch many sunsets, run, dance, play games, learn the guitar, again, listen more deeply, meditate, learn new ways of being...Isn’t it what life is really about ? Without forgetting to drink and get some sunlight because we are basically house plants with more complicated emotions.
Of course, sometimes it hits me out of nowhere, this overwhelming feeling of boredom. I get discouraged and upset, I feel hopeless and numb to the world because being face to face with myself with only the music of my heart as company, isn't that easy. Then, I will go for a walk, notice that the sun is still rising everyday in harmony with the birds that are still chirping curious melodies. The wind is blowing, and trees remain rooted to the ground. I will call someone to break the loneliness, I will volunteer for organizations that ask for help and do things I love. So, maybe we are not finishing high school as we would have liked but, it will be memorable either way.
In short, hoping that you have found a touch of humanity in my Thursday’s reflections, stay home and recognize that sometimes sitting in your own house alone, in peace, eating snacks (frozen mangoes and Greek yogurt in my case) and minding your business is priceless.
During the first days of this pandemic, when Netflix was my only hope of entertainment, the impression of missing something kept growing in me. Because being in quarantine at the end of high school is not easy. Not being able to see our friends, thinking about memories that will never be created... It breaks the idea of what we had in mind for the end of this adventure. Even if we wanted more than anything to leave, leaving without an appropriate goodbye would be hard.
After a few days of feeling useless and having watched Netflix long enough that my sofa had a pit in the middle, I realised that never will we have had so much time just to live as now. To live complete moments like waiting for your bread to come out of the toaster without the usual thousands of thoughts shattering your mind. Or start a book and read until late without worrying about time. The schools and stores that are closing should not keep us from being able to grow. In fact, this lockdown is a huge opportunity to heal because it is forcing us to face ourselves. So, I decided to live my quarantine fully, to take advantage of the free time that life, or rather COVID 19, offers me. To read, listen, rest, exercise, create art, watch many sunsets, run, dance, play games, learn the guitar, again, listen more deeply, meditate, learn new ways of being...Isn’t it what life is really about ? Without forgetting to drink and get some sunlight because we are basically house plants with more complicated emotions.
Of course, sometimes it hits me out of nowhere, this overwhelming feeling of boredom. I get discouraged and upset, I feel hopeless and numb to the world because being face to face with myself with only the music of my heart as company, isn't that easy. Then, I will go for a walk, notice that the sun is still rising everyday in harmony with the birds that are still chirping curious melodies. The wind is blowing, and trees remain rooted to the ground. I will call someone to break the loneliness, I will volunteer for organizations that ask for help and do things I love. So, maybe we are not finishing high school as we would have liked but, it will be memorable either way.
In short, hoping that you have found a touch of humanity in my Thursday’s reflections, stay home and recognize that sometimes sitting in your own house alone, in peace, eating snacks (frozen mangoes and Greek yogurt in my case) and minding your business is priceless.
Jeanne B.
16, Quebec, Canada
Life During Covid
I lost my grandmother two weeks before the quarantine. She was truly one of my biggest supporters. Even at 95, she still insisted on writing her own checks and reading the newspaper every day. A gifted English teacher never retires. When I finished my masterpiece, she proudly wrote her check for a copy of my book. She valued my creative work, and I made sure she was my first customer.
When the quarantine was announced in mid-March, I’d already carried a heavy heart. My family and the community had already and unexpectedly buried others at the top of the year.
I needed healing. I had trips planned to some cities I thought would bring positive change in my life; Like everyone else, I had to cancel.
I tried to figure out what I would do about my work. Canceling my trips upset me even more. My career depends upon my ability to travel and to socialize. Meeting and connecting with new people always brings me success. I can do well in front of groups of people and conferences. Those canceled, too.
Everything seemed so uncertain. I was this close to having my shit together. I had to make quick changes. I didn’t panic, and I couldn’t stay down for too long. I didn’t choose to operate in that energy.
I started looking for solutions. I needed to lift my spirits. I started counting all of the positives.
We were able to gather to lay my grandmother to rest properly. Her spirit must have felt the Coronavirus coming, and she didn’t want to participate. I’m not upset at her for opting out. I don’t know what it’s like to be 90-something, yet.
I count the positives. Spiritually, I know it’s a world-wide shift occurring. The ancestors are always protecting me and guiding me.
I’m 110 percent healthy. I was probably a healer in my past life, and I know the immune system starts heavy in my digestive system, and its strength depends on what I eat. I went to the grocery stores for high vibrational, immune system boosting foods. I can keep my health and spirits up.
I counted more positives. Lights. Clean water. Food. Air conditioning. Netflix series. Books. Music. Facetime. I count them in my head. Over and over, and over again.
I have the things I need. And I still have a lot of my elderly best friends. Before COVID, I would see them in person to conduct wellness checks. They're our community's greatest assets. Now, I stay away because I don’t want to carry anything to them that they may not be able to fight off. I can still send them small love messages or calls of comfort.
I’m mindful, wearing masks to protect myself and others. I’m following the full shelter in place (other than trips to stock up on more food).
In all, right now, the universe is making everyone get on a team effort and on one accord, to stay inside. It’s also making everyone understand the old saying, “Health is (the true) Wealth.” We have the ability to fight this and win.
I lost my grandmother two weeks before the quarantine. She was truly one of my biggest supporters. Even at 95, she still insisted on writing her own checks and reading the newspaper every day. A gifted English teacher never retires. When I finished my masterpiece, she proudly wrote her check for a copy of my book. She valued my creative work, and I made sure she was my first customer.
When the quarantine was announced in mid-March, I’d already carried a heavy heart. My family and the community had already and unexpectedly buried others at the top of the year.
I needed healing. I had trips planned to some cities I thought would bring positive change in my life; Like everyone else, I had to cancel.
I tried to figure out what I would do about my work. Canceling my trips upset me even more. My career depends upon my ability to travel and to socialize. Meeting and connecting with new people always brings me success. I can do well in front of groups of people and conferences. Those canceled, too.
Everything seemed so uncertain. I was this close to having my shit together. I had to make quick changes. I didn’t panic, and I couldn’t stay down for too long. I didn’t choose to operate in that energy.
I started looking for solutions. I needed to lift my spirits. I started counting all of the positives.
We were able to gather to lay my grandmother to rest properly. Her spirit must have felt the Coronavirus coming, and she didn’t want to participate. I’m not upset at her for opting out. I don’t know what it’s like to be 90-something, yet.
I count the positives. Spiritually, I know it’s a world-wide shift occurring. The ancestors are always protecting me and guiding me.
I’m 110 percent healthy. I was probably a healer in my past life, and I know the immune system starts heavy in my digestive system, and its strength depends on what I eat. I went to the grocery stores for high vibrational, immune system boosting foods. I can keep my health and spirits up.
I counted more positives. Lights. Clean water. Food. Air conditioning. Netflix series. Books. Music. Facetime. I count them in my head. Over and over, and over again.
I have the things I need. And I still have a lot of my elderly best friends. Before COVID, I would see them in person to conduct wellness checks. They're our community's greatest assets. Now, I stay away because I don’t want to carry anything to them that they may not be able to fight off. I can still send them small love messages or calls of comfort.
I’m mindful, wearing masks to protect myself and others. I’m following the full shelter in place (other than trips to stock up on more food).
In all, right now, the universe is making everyone get on a team effort and on one accord, to stay inside. It’s also making everyone understand the old saying, “Health is (the true) Wealth.” We have the ability to fight this and win.
Brandi W.
36, Louisiana
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The streets are roaring with silence
except in my neighborhood. My neighbors and I all live outside now, separated at all times by six feet of barking dogs, garden reconstructions, children bicycling and yelling at the ice cream man (who has not stopped his ice cream deliveries for even a day), babies chalking up the sidewalk, and grinning grandmothers. Strangely, I feel closer to my neighbors than I ever have. I actually quite like this new version of my neighborhood. I hope it sticks around. Raven C.
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Anthony D.
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What A Year
The streets roar with silence Wind screams gently in my ear The cruel sun embraces my lonely shadow What a year, what a year Tenth time roaming the neighborhood Hands pocketed, mask adhered Pretending to see things I haven't before What a year, what a year They say this virus is a sign; "This is it, the end is near." I say it's Mother Nature's revenge What a year, what a year. Elisabeth G.
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What I will remember about this time is the way we kept figuring out how to connect. I text with my dad and my sisters almost daily now, and I send random texts to friends as I’m thinking about them. I will remember how even brief messages matter, and how much my introverted self needs these moments of knowing there are people I care about and who care about me. I will remember that we need each other all the time, not just in this moment. I will remember how this moment reminded me of the many ways in which I’m incredibly fortunate, and how easy it is to do for others in small ways that matter. I will remember how much we all rely on the people who do the most and have the least. I will remember to work to make other people’s lives better.
SUE W.
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Driving through Stop Signs
One of the things I remember most about this time is the shell-shocked drivers. My husband and I were driving to the grocery store for touch-free curbside pickup, and at the intersection near the highway in Grand Coteau, a red pickup truck almost hit our car. The truck was driven by a distracted grey-haired man. Like so many, perhaps he was thinking about the impending storm of contamination, sickness, death worldwide and at home.
Fear fills our heads and we may just roll through stop signs. Drivers may be thinking about hospitals and clinics, surgical masks, homemade paisley masks, ventilator shortages, and cars cruise past warning signs. Some honk, “watch where you are going!” Where are we going?
I am reminded of 2005, during Hurricane Katrina and Grand Coteau filled with muddle-minded evacuees from New Orleans, driving through town, dented cars packed with hampers of clothes, teddy bears, boxes of canned goods, coasting through stop signs as they thought of the water lapping at 1st floor windows in a silent dark metropolis.
Now the quiet has returned but the houses are dry and people lie inside, some feverish and achy. Some hide inside to avoid the dry coughs of covid-19.
When we take to the roads, our heads fog with anxiety, tension of loss—jobs, family, friends and sometimes cars just drift through stop signs creating collisions or near misses, hopefully near misses.
One of the things I remember most about this time is the shell-shocked drivers. My husband and I were driving to the grocery store for touch-free curbside pickup, and at the intersection near the highway in Grand Coteau, a red pickup truck almost hit our car. The truck was driven by a distracted grey-haired man. Like so many, perhaps he was thinking about the impending storm of contamination, sickness, death worldwide and at home.
Fear fills our heads and we may just roll through stop signs. Drivers may be thinking about hospitals and clinics, surgical masks, homemade paisley masks, ventilator shortages, and cars cruise past warning signs. Some honk, “watch where you are going!” Where are we going?
I am reminded of 2005, during Hurricane Katrina and Grand Coteau filled with muddle-minded evacuees from New Orleans, driving through town, dented cars packed with hampers of clothes, teddy bears, boxes of canned goods, coasting through stop signs as they thought of the water lapping at 1st floor windows in a silent dark metropolis.
Now the quiet has returned but the houses are dry and people lie inside, some feverish and achy. Some hide inside to avoid the dry coughs of covid-19.
When we take to the roads, our heads fog with anxiety, tension of loss—jobs, family, friends and sometimes cars just drift through stop signs creating collisions or near misses, hopefully near misses.
PATRICE M.
58, GRAND COTEAU, LA
I am hopeful that all of the Class of 2020 will heal from the disappointment of missing all of the senior activities including prom and graduation.
CELESTE P.
50, BATON ROUGE, LA
What I will remember most about this time is . . . how there are always
two sides to every coin.
Like all movements, what side comes out on top depends on a number of things:
momentum, material density and homogeneity, friction of the surface.
The U.S. is a turning coin, an alloyed metal, non-homogenous, with a lot of friction.
And each side seems to have momentum.
When this crisis is over, will we,
the people, the environment, the future generations,
come out on top?
Or, will we remain a country with mostly
heads-down?
What I will remember most about this time is how there are two sides to all people,
the visible and the shadow.
What I will never forget about this time is how prisoners and immigrants were left in cages, where following CDC prevention guidelines was impossible to follow,
left to risk infection and die,
and, how most of the world
stayed silent.
What I will remember and honor is how communities came together to pool resources and begin generating PPE the government & world markets were
unable to provide frontline workers to stay safe.
Seamstress collectives, abuelas, Tinkerers and Makers, mutual aid groups, community centers, churches, non-profit organizations, universities and local businesses became collaborators in the greater human effort for public health.
What I will never forget about this time is how states closed abortion clinics during the #coronacrisis, claiming they were NOT considered an essential service.
I will also never forget is how Florida opened up Pro-Wrestling during the #coronacrisis, claiming that it WAS an essential service.
And, I will remember how so many, again, remained so silent.
What I will never forget about this time is how the manufactured "need"
to keep the capitalist machine turning
placed medical frontline and essential workers' lives,
their families' lives,
and their patients' lives
at risk
every day stay-at-home orders were ignored.
What I will remember and honor are the people, womyn and children, whose suffering has been compounded by a stay-at-home order
in a space they can not call safe.
What I will never forget is how PPE was not provided by some companies for their staff, considered essential workers:
grocery store and gas station attendants,
construction workers,
nursing home staff and residents,
as well as all frontline medical workers
being asked to reuse their masks for up to 6 days,
again putting all at risk of infection.
What I will remember and honor is the mutual aid disaster relief network of affinity groups that rose up in resistance to disaster capitalism and
state-sanctioned control of supplies distribution
and movement restrictions.
What I will never forget about this time is how the status quo government response continued to put profit over people,
to the detriment of our collective
public and environmental health.
What I will remember and honor is how the planet and ecosystem health was revitalized when millions of cars were taken off once traffic-jammed streets,
consumptive demand slowed,
air pollution dropped drastically,
skies blued with brilliance,
and we became the animals in cages
looking out in envy at the wild world
as it looked back
in relief.
What I will never forget about this time is how the once impossible became probable.
What I will remember and demand is the sustainable continuation
of pop-up #coronavirus response, social resource programs,
once claimed to be fiscally impossible,
now made possible and implemented in a month or less.
Access, support, and equity should be #thenewnorm for all members of society.
two sides to every coin.
Like all movements, what side comes out on top depends on a number of things:
momentum, material density and homogeneity, friction of the surface.
The U.S. is a turning coin, an alloyed metal, non-homogenous, with a lot of friction.
And each side seems to have momentum.
When this crisis is over, will we,
the people, the environment, the future generations,
come out on top?
Or, will we remain a country with mostly
heads-down?
What I will remember most about this time is how there are two sides to all people,
the visible and the shadow.
What I will never forget about this time is how prisoners and immigrants were left in cages, where following CDC prevention guidelines was impossible to follow,
left to risk infection and die,
and, how most of the world
stayed silent.
What I will remember and honor is how communities came together to pool resources and begin generating PPE the government & world markets were
unable to provide frontline workers to stay safe.
Seamstress collectives, abuelas, Tinkerers and Makers, mutual aid groups, community centers, churches, non-profit organizations, universities and local businesses became collaborators in the greater human effort for public health.
What I will never forget about this time is how states closed abortion clinics during the #coronacrisis, claiming they were NOT considered an essential service.
I will also never forget is how Florida opened up Pro-Wrestling during the #coronacrisis, claiming that it WAS an essential service.
And, I will remember how so many, again, remained so silent.
What I will never forget about this time is how the manufactured "need"
to keep the capitalist machine turning
placed medical frontline and essential workers' lives,
their families' lives,
and their patients' lives
at risk
every day stay-at-home orders were ignored.
What I will remember and honor are the people, womyn and children, whose suffering has been compounded by a stay-at-home order
in a space they can not call safe.
What I will never forget is how PPE was not provided by some companies for their staff, considered essential workers:
grocery store and gas station attendants,
construction workers,
nursing home staff and residents,
as well as all frontline medical workers
being asked to reuse their masks for up to 6 days,
again putting all at risk of infection.
What I will remember and honor is the mutual aid disaster relief network of affinity groups that rose up in resistance to disaster capitalism and
state-sanctioned control of supplies distribution
and movement restrictions.
What I will never forget about this time is how the status quo government response continued to put profit over people,
to the detriment of our collective
public and environmental health.
What I will remember and honor is how the planet and ecosystem health was revitalized when millions of cars were taken off once traffic-jammed streets,
consumptive demand slowed,
air pollution dropped drastically,
skies blued with brilliance,
and we became the animals in cages
looking out in envy at the wild world
as it looked back
in relief.
What I will never forget about this time is how the once impossible became probable.
What I will remember and demand is the sustainable continuation
of pop-up #coronavirus response, social resource programs,
once claimed to be fiscally impossible,
now made possible and implemented in a month or less.
Access, support, and equity should be #thenewnorm for all members of society.
Rain
What I will remember most about this time is the slowly loosening grasp I have on my demons. For a while I was winning the battle, and with every step up the mountain, it became a bit easier until I reached the peak and it soon felt like a declining fight. While I never claimed a victory over my demons; of whom are named PTSD, anxiety, depression, and addiction; I did feel like the battle was closer to its ending than it’s beginning. That is until the things I used to keep my mind occupied as a way of combating these demons was no longer at my disposal. Where I used to go to the gym for endorphin rushes and friendly smiles and hugs, I now turn to a bottle that is purchased from a clerk standing behind a plastic sanitation sheet. Where I used to create opportunities to experience new and exciting things to keep my mind from wandering, now all that is left is time in excess to be alone with the haunting thoughts of lives passed. I felt the grip on my demons slowly slipping, and I’ve struggled to regain my grasp. I’ve since tried to recover my footing in the battle by finding new and innovative ways to contain the beasts, but what worked for me was closeness, familiarity, freedom, and routine, all of which have been stripped for me. Hopefully what I will remember most is how I defeated the monsters within once again, this time without the weapons I had once forged for myself, but that story has not finished being told.
TONY T.
33, BATON ROUGE, LA
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Social distancing has taught me that there are some dreams and goals that I dropped. Though I miss the masses, having to be secluded has reconnected me with me.
Celeste P.
|
Social distancing has taught me that my immediate family has prepared me for this all of my life.
Toi S.
40, Baton Rouge, LA
Today, I decided to call my doctor to find out when I could return to work. I had called the week before, left a message that I had been tested for the coronavirus, and that they would receive the results. I anticipated a call back. Maybe the doctor would be concerned about me. No call. On Monday a representative from the Louisiana Department of health called to tell me I had tested positive for the coronavirus.
Today is Wednesday. I called my doctor to find out if he had received the results. The receptionist, working from home, said they had not. I said they were probably sent digitally. She said they do not receive anything digitally. No email or other electronic communication. Only fax. She gave me the fax number.
I called the hospital, where I had been tested, and asked them to fax the results to my doctor.
My doctor finally called me and we transferred to facetime. He was working from home. He talked with me, asked questions, said I could probably return to work in seven days. I asked for a letter for my employer stating that I had tested positive for the test, and when I could return to work. He said he could write something on a prescription pad. Would that be okay? And he would mail it to me.
He could not type a note on a laptop or computer. No email.
I will wait for the little note written on the pad.
Today is Wednesday. I called my doctor to find out if he had received the results. The receptionist, working from home, said they had not. I said they were probably sent digitally. She said they do not receive anything digitally. No email or other electronic communication. Only fax. She gave me the fax number.
I called the hospital, where I had been tested, and asked them to fax the results to my doctor.
My doctor finally called me and we transferred to facetime. He was working from home. He talked with me, asked questions, said I could probably return to work in seven days. I asked for a letter for my employer stating that I had tested positive for the test, and when I could return to work. He said he could write something on a prescription pad. Would that be okay? And he would mail it to me.
He could not type a note on a laptop or computer. No email.
I will wait for the little note written on the pad.
Patrice M.
58, Grand Coteau, LA
|
Today I decided to open an art studio. Got the keys and I'm setting up shop. Socially distanced of course.
CELESTE P.
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Kendi K.
|
Today I decided to sit on my front porch drinking coffee and eating oatmeal with blueberries while I read an article about Fred Moten before my work day started. My close friends and family know that I am usually the kind of person who eats breakfast at my computer or at my first meeting of the day, so this was seriously not my normal MO. I feel like I'm deprogramming myself from the rush-rush that I generate around myself and participate in as the world presses so many of us to do more, more, more. Slowing it down has been a goal of mine for a long time, and I really struggle with balancing that goal with the many commitments I hold. This time is scary and unreal in so many ways, but it is also an opening to create some new habits, to step back from the press of life in some ways and be with ourselves. Hopefully we can nurture wellness right now in small ways, seeing just what we have the power to do in our own lives first, and let that be the thing we carry with us out of here. I want that for me, and I want that for the world.
Anna W.
44, Baton Rouge, LA
Today I decided to cut and shape my beard. If you know me my appearance means a lot. Since the beginning of this quarantine I've still matched clothes, moisturized face, even cleaned and trimmed beard. But since I've been quarantined home to work all those things have stopped. Well today that will change. If you know better you must do better, so for me I'm going to start looking better hopefully therefore feeling better
