Earlier this week, I was texting with a friend about going to the grocery for a regular shopping trip. This was the day after I found out I'd be working from home for at least the next two weeks. I hadn't done my regular shopping yet; I usually go on Thursday at lunchtime if I work from home my one day per week or Sunday morning. I decided to go Thursday since I was home, and lunchtime grocery shopping is always a calmer experience. My friend said something that would be the equivalent of "may the odds be every in your favor," and I reminded her that I grocery shopped in a post-Katrina New Orleans.
I bring up my experience in a post-K New Orleans because this entire week has reminded me of that time in my life way more than I expected. When I returned to New Orleans in November 2006, several months after Katrina, New Orleans was obviously a very different place. Most people had not/could not return. Those who were back were putting together the new normal in a place where trash piles seemed to grew exponentially, mail service was iffy, and you never knew what weird thing was going to happen next. We had a month to get ready for students to return to the university, so I threw myself into work. We went out, but observed curfew. We got used to crowded everywhere because so few things were open. We celebrated when a store or restaurant or cafe reopened. We continually took stock of who was back and who wasn't planning on coming back. Crime, always a problem in New Orleans, seemed to be worse, then better then worse again. Small things, like going to the store or getting gas, took twice as long as they did before.
One spring day, I went to the store on my way home from work. I planned to go to the Winn-Dixie on Tchoupitoulas, get a few things and then head home. If I could get half of the things on my list, I'd consider it a good trip. The parking lot was crowded...not a good sign. I walked into the store, saw the lines, heard the voices, and walked right back out. I couldn't bring myself to walk around a store that crowded, with people who were annoyed and cranky. I drove a few blocks to the Sav-a-Center just in case it was less crowded. The parking lot wasn't as full, but it was the same inside. I was so close to having a panic attack in the produce section until a lady said to me, "Honey, it's going to be okay. Go get what you need to get." She patted me on the shoulder and continued on with her shopping. My panic diminished, and I finished my shopping trip. I went home, made dinner and fed Pumpkin. I repeated this process many more times before I decided to move to Virginia. It was a long nine months.
Obviously, a post-Katrina New Orleans and a global pandemic are two completely different events, but I can't help but look at one to help me navigate through another. In the past few days, my life has become eerily similar to my life in post-Katrina New Orleans: I've created several contingency plans for work, and talked to my team about managing a full work from home life. I spend a lot of time considering whether I should go somewhere, even if it's just to my parents' house. I've evaluated what I have at home, and was delighted/shocked when I found three containers of bleach wipes under my guest bathroom sink. I bought them when I moved in, and totally forgot that's where I stored them. I've made a list of projects and things I need to do around the house to fill the time I won't be going out. As more of an introverted person, I'm used to spending long stretches of time alone, BUT I've also had going to work as a counter. It's an adjustment to not to go into the office. I'm fortunate enough to have a job that can be done remotely, but I know the next few weeks will be hard because of the quiet.
Curfews were used in New Orleans to help maintain order and control what can be an incredibly chaotic place. I remember leaving a concert at Tipitina's at midnight. No one ever leaves a concert in New Orleans before 2 am. It was weird, but we did our part as good citizens to make living in the city "easy," whatever that meant at the time. Social distancing isn't exactly the same thing, but it's what will help us contain the coronavirus, or at least deal with what's about to happen in a scale that might be manageable. It's hard to deal with the closures and cancellations, but at the end of the day, it will help keep more people from getting sick. It won't stop people from getting sick, but the less we're out and about, especially around people we don't know, the less likely we'll be to bring the virus home or to work.
I understand some people's reaction to everything as an overreaction. It's hard to fully understand something when it hasn't impacted you directly or you're the type of person who believes the media is making this out to be a bigger deal than it is. Yes, we are sensationalizing a lot of what's going on. News outlets need to think very carefully about showing images of long lines outside places like Costco and gun shops, while still reporting what's happening. Shocker: you can do both. I unfollowed a jewelry artist I like yesterday because she was mad that the city of Richmond, VA canceled a craft show this weekend. I get it, that's how she makes her money, but she went about the entire situation in the wrong way, spouting Fox News tidbits and ranting about government involvement in her livelihood. I couldn't help but think "maybe you should have an online store" and "please read something with actual facts in it" before clicking unfollow. At a time when all I want to do is support people like her, her comments and actions made me do the exact opposite. The things she said might actually harm someone. Reality doesn't seem to exist for this person.
The reality is people are getting sick. We don't have structures in place to test people and to care for them on the scale that could be around right the corner. I can't blame the 45 for the actual coronavirus, but I can blame him and his administration and the GOP leadership for what's happening now. They care more about being wealthy and staying wealthy. So many of the things we're dealing with now reveal what a messed up place we live in.
But we do have each other, as long as it's from a distance of 6-10 feet away or over Skype. Maybe this time of social distancing will teach us something about slowing down, being intentional, prioritizing. Maybe we can be like Italian neighbors singing from their balconies to keep the joy in what is a terrible, heartbreaking situation. What I do know is that being a good citizen sometimes means staying at home.
Until November 3, 2020. And then we vote.
Next week on the Island: Keely's Guide to Staying Inside. He's very good at being an indoor kid.
No comments:
Post a Comment