Sunday, March 14th, 2021
On March 12, 2020, I packed up my papers and computer and said, “That’s it. I’m staying home.”
That was my moment when I knew that the novel coronavirus was real and scary, and that coming into our office in Newburgh no longer made sense. No one was coming to visit us and I no longer thought it was safe for our staff to travel about the region.
Fortunately, I had that option. Many did not.
Let me back up a bit, as context matters.
On December 8, 2019, my father-in-law died. The last few months of his life were brutal. Especially for my wife, who is an only child. He was married to my mother-in-law for over 50 years. She would now be alone in her house for the first time in decades. Neither my wife, nor my mother-in-law had a chance to grieve their loss. By March 2020, my mother-in-law’s loneliness was about to increase dramatically. She was isolated and alone in her house. Her partner for life was gone. Now, she has her share of illnesses, but they were able to face them together. Three nights ago, on March 11, 2021 my wife brought her mother to an emergency room as her body was shutting down. This will not have a happy ending.
I offer this to say everyone has their story of the past year. Whether it is the loss of a loved one or the loss of a job or business. For most people there was a measure of suffering. I could leave it at that, but it is not in my nature.
Looking back over the year since we went into shutdown, it is remarkable what has transpired. Some tragic and unsettling, some illuminating, and some even inspiring.
The Tragic and Unsettling
I tell the story of my wife’s parents not looking for any sympathy. The deaths, the illness, the impact on our collective mental health, there are simply not enough words of comfort to give to all the families that have suffered.
537,000 deaths and we are still not done. A mind-numbing number. And many times that number of those who have “recovered,” but are still suffering from long-term symptoms of COVID-19. Many others died alone, not from the virus. The disruption to families, who simply could not gather to soothe each other’s pain or to celebrate the joys of just being together.
The run up to the Presidential election and the complete polarization of our country. Regardless of who you supported, the static from the campaigns amplified the noise of the virus. The polarization defied any attempt to bond as a nation. In the aftermath of the killing of George Floyd, the cries for social justice, the images of the protests – some peaceful and some not. The carnage to the national economy with some sectors left on life support. The disruption to not one, but two school years. Social media, the conveyor of a good deal of the static and the noise that seemed to be intertwined with our daily lives in a way that it had not before. Being on lockdown meant we were tied to our virtual world and a great deal of that was ugly. Food lines, not seen since the Great Depression and not just for the poor were hard to look at.
We were not in an actual war, yet every day seemed filled with “shock and awe.”
The Illumination
Our society’s nerves were exposed. We bore witness to arteries and veins of what connects us. There were those people who could navigate the Pandemic without much disruption. There were others that were broken physically and mentally. Broadband and Wifi vaulted to the top of the list of infrastructure needs as work from home, telemedicine, and virtual learning were available to those with access, but not to those who were not connected. The schism between the haves and have-nots widened.
I am a centrist in a polarized world. It seems that every time I make a statement, someone reacts by assuming that statement places me in one camp or the other. The truth is over the past year I have learned more about the need of some to divide us or to group us within one tribe or another, but of less and less willingness to struggle to find our commonalities in what could unite us. Did healthcare workers have on their sheet of questions, when triaging the sick, “Are you a Conservative or a Liberal?”
In looking back over the past year, there was always a pandemic, and there was always a political lens to pass through it. I made the optimistic mistake when this began to think, “Surely we are all in this together.” I was proven wrong. Dead wrong. Yet, I still believe in our common humanity in the face of polarization.
January 6, 2021 and the assault on our Capitol shook me to my core. The Capitol is my cathedral (you need only know that Mr. Smith Goes to Washington is my second favorite movie) and it was desecrated. Somehow I cling to the hope that this is not us. That day reminded me that if we do not struggle for the things that can bind us, then make no mistake. things can get much worse. The history of the polarization of our country tells us it indeed can get much worse.
This past year was indeed illuminating.
Inspiration
There is reason for hope. No one can take my hope away.
The virus’s spread has slowed down. More and more people are being vaccinated. Slowly the economy is re-opening. It is springtime, which is normally when we emerge from the winter, only this one seemed an eternity. To borrow a line from Game of Thrones, we knew “Winter is Coming” when we were throttled by another mountainous climb in deaths, not to mention those who have “recovered” but still have symptoms. Yet we have persevered thanks to what remains of our common decency to one another.
We got a vaccine in “warp speed.” We learned that we could work in a multitude of different ways. The Hudson Valley was a new home for urban refugees, as they sought out escape from the storm and discovered the lifestyle that we have always treasured. Technology went into hyper drive and, in some cases, what would have taken a decade happened in a year. The move to telemedicine may help equalize the level of healthcare in rural areas. When we return to school full-time this Fall (which we must), virtual learning will be a tool in the tool box to open all kinds of new knowledge, if we are open to it. And to the wonks among us – which I am admittedly one – we landed Perseverance on Mars. A feat so amazing that it got to be headline news for one or two news cycles.
While I commend you to the lyrics of Maroon 5’s “Memories” and like 9/11, we should never forget those whom we have lost and those who are still injured and suffering, it all wasn’t all bad. Don’t get me wrong. Could I have “lived” without the tumultuous events of the past year? Supremely.
But I have coached for years. It is from our losses that we learn far more than our wins. We can emerge from the past year with greater strength and knowledge if we are willing. Our organization (Pattern) thrives on questions that start with: “What do we do?” We have always been doing it, only more so for the past year. The questions just got more complicated.
I have learned that the guy in my little grocery store, Dale, who never seems to miss a day, is a hero in my community, as he kept the shelves stocked with food. And while I single someone like Dale out, in all honesty, I have learned that I live among heroes. Not just neighbors, but heroes. When you bring it down to the level of helping our neighbors, as the fictional Jeff Smith said in Mr. Smith, the polar ice caps of our polarized society melt. When it came to helping your neighbors we didn’t ask whether you were a Democrat or Republican. That is something to build on.
We need not just to return to normal – whatever that was pre-Pandemic – but struggle for common decency that will enable us, as a country, to make it through the next Pandemic or social awakening. I often tell my staff that there is more than the majority of people that I can have a basic, sane conversation with. That conversation includes: Do you have a job and can you live on it? Do you have a place to live and can you afford it? If you are sick, can you afford to pay for your healthcare?
I believe with all my heart, I can have a conversation with most people about these three things. That is the lens that I wish to view the world through.
That is what I learned from the past year.
