I often read historical books and think to myself, "I wonder what it was really like to live during whatever horrible event occurred."
My 4th grader and I just finished Number the Stars by Lois Lowry, and so my thoughts have been on life-altering, catastrophic events because I've been reading about them fictionally and non-fictionally (every time I read the newspaper).
This pandemic is surreal to me.
I generally always think that people experienced "the worst possible," but that is not the case, and I sometimes need reminders.
When 9-11 happened, it was life-altering for me, but I didn't experience the worst of it. New York City, both then and now, has been hammered.
There are degrees of experience.
Apparently, the country is anticipating over 134,000 deaths, more or less.
With states opening back up, that number is likely to increase.
What I wish I knew is how many people test positive who are completely asymptomatic.
That seems important but not included in the stats I'm seeing.
I see how many people test positive, but I don't know are they mildly sick, hospital-level sick?
There is so much we still don't know or understand about this virus.
There is economic fall-out no matter what course states and governments take.
If we close for longer, people suffer.
If we open back up, people suffer.
I think only hindsight will tell us in which scenario people suffered more.
What reading the aforementioned children's chapter book has made me notice and feel a little mystified about is the whininess I see, at least among the people I know and who post on social media.
I, too, want life to return to normal.
I, too, would like a haircut.
I, too, would like to take my kid to his orthodontist appointment.
I don't love substitute teaching but I would LOVE nothing more than for life to return to normal when I could substitute teach.
I would love to feel comfortable going to the grocery without a mask and browsing (and I hate to shop).
But my basic needs are met.
I have food, water, shelter, and prescription medication.
Everything else is an inconvenience.
It might be an inconvenience that makes me wanna cuss, but it is an inconvenience.
I have recently seen a petition going around with folks whining about maybe or maybe not being able to go to the pool which seems like a whole lotta privilege making its way to social media.
I both get it and hate it at the same time.
The petition itself doesn't make me cringe; it is the comments that go with the petition like, "How will I live this summer without going to the pool?"
And I'm struggling to know whether such statements are hyperbole especially after reading my fair share of books about people who lived during circumstances and times when even walking down the street put them in the range of a Nazi's gun.
When a hunk of cheese was a luxury and treat.
For some individuals right now during this pandemic, a hunk of cheese is a luxury and a treat.
And there are people in our city whose pools were shut down ages ago for reasons I don't even know. Because of the expense?
Because the pools are in the West End which has been redlined to death?
Because the pools were for the poorer and blacker segments of the community?
Also surreal to me is seeing the same folks who make the argument that women shouldn't have abortions even though pregnancy has severe financial/economic implications also argue that people should be allowed back to work because the pandemic has severe financial/economic implications.
How is the right of one person to control their body and what they do with it because of finances not the same as the right of another person to control their body and what they do with it because of finances, especially when harm to others' lives is the result?
Is it because harm to the fetus is a definite and harm to someone else (an older person/medically fragile person) because of COVID-19 is only possible?
It is surreal that individuals worship a Jesus who is compassionate and empathic and yet also support a president who hasn't the ability to offer true compassion and empathy to others, a man who has a necrotizing case of "it's all about me."
It is beyond bizarre to me.
And I guess it always has been but I didn't have the unfettered time to think about it almost constantly.
My 4th grader and I just finished Number the Stars by Lois Lowry, and so my thoughts have been on life-altering, catastrophic events because I've been reading about them fictionally and non-fictionally (every time I read the newspaper).
This pandemic is surreal to me.
I generally always think that people experienced "the worst possible," but that is not the case, and I sometimes need reminders.
When 9-11 happened, it was life-altering for me, but I didn't experience the worst of it. New York City, both then and now, has been hammered.
There are degrees of experience.
Apparently, the country is anticipating over 134,000 deaths, more or less.
With states opening back up, that number is likely to increase.
What I wish I knew is how many people test positive who are completely asymptomatic.
That seems important but not included in the stats I'm seeing.
I see how many people test positive, but I don't know are they mildly sick, hospital-level sick?
There is so much we still don't know or understand about this virus.
There is economic fall-out no matter what course states and governments take.
If we close for longer, people suffer.
If we open back up, people suffer.
I think only hindsight will tell us in which scenario people suffered more.
What reading the aforementioned children's chapter book has made me notice and feel a little mystified about is the whininess I see, at least among the people I know and who post on social media.
I, too, want life to return to normal.
I, too, would like a haircut.
I, too, would like to take my kid to his orthodontist appointment.
I don't love substitute teaching but I would LOVE nothing more than for life to return to normal when I could substitute teach.
I would love to feel comfortable going to the grocery without a mask and browsing (and I hate to shop).
But my basic needs are met.
I have food, water, shelter, and prescription medication.
Everything else is an inconvenience.
It might be an inconvenience that makes me wanna cuss, but it is an inconvenience.
I have recently seen a petition going around with folks whining about maybe or maybe not being able to go to the pool which seems like a whole lotta privilege making its way to social media.
I both get it and hate it at the same time.
The petition itself doesn't make me cringe; it is the comments that go with the petition like, "How will I live this summer without going to the pool?"
And I'm struggling to know whether such statements are hyperbole especially after reading my fair share of books about people who lived during circumstances and times when even walking down the street put them in the range of a Nazi's gun.
When a hunk of cheese was a luxury and treat.
For some individuals right now during this pandemic, a hunk of cheese is a luxury and a treat.
And there are people in our city whose pools were shut down ages ago for reasons I don't even know. Because of the expense?
Because the pools are in the West End which has been redlined to death?
Because the pools were for the poorer and blacker segments of the community?
Also surreal to me is seeing the same folks who make the argument that women shouldn't have abortions even though pregnancy has severe financial/economic implications also argue that people should be allowed back to work because the pandemic has severe financial/economic implications.
How is the right of one person to control their body and what they do with it because of finances not the same as the right of another person to control their body and what they do with it because of finances, especially when harm to others' lives is the result?
Is it because harm to the fetus is a definite and harm to someone else (an older person/medically fragile person) because of COVID-19 is only possible?
It is surreal that individuals worship a Jesus who is compassionate and empathic and yet also support a president who hasn't the ability to offer true compassion and empathy to others, a man who has a necrotizing case of "it's all about me."
It is beyond bizarre to me.
And I guess it always has been but I didn't have the unfettered time to think about it almost constantly.
1 comment:
Word to yo mama...
Post a Comment