Friendship in a pandemic
The COVID world forces people to find new ways to connect and socialize
Like everyone else, Melissa Batchilder, a native of Georgetown, P.E.I., has had to navigate all of the public health recommendations – such as social distancing and gathering limits – brought on by the COVID-19 pandemic.
But Batchilder isn’t living in P.E.I. now. She currently lives in Fairhaven, Mass., where the crisis is much more intense.
While P.E.I. had five active cases as of Feb. 1, Massachusetts had 71,929 active cases, according to that state’s official website. Since the pandemic began, 14,317 people have died of COVID-19 in the state.
“It’s really bizarre; so many people here have been sick,” said Batchilder, who is director of communications for the New Bedford Police Department. “There are dozens of people who are COVID-positive at my work – it’s crazy.”
BUILDING CONNECTIONS
For Batchilder, the past year, she says, has been a heavy burden. Her father died on March 31, 2020, and she has yet to be able to return home to P.E.I. to grieve properly with her family.
“It’s been an extended grief; I haven’t had closure yet,” she said.
Despite the misery and isolation of the pandemic, Batchilder has found opportunities to make new and potentially lasting connections. Early in the pandemic, she found herself in an online chat thread with five other individuals who, as it turned out, were also graduates of Montague Regional High School's Class of 1985.
Batchilder can’t recall if she’s seen all of these people since graduation, but she now calls them her COVID support group.
They talk about everything from the current pandemic to “deep mental health” stuff to “the funny things we did when we grew up. We have the most hilarious, supportive conversations,” she says.
Another unexpected connection took place at a nearby beach where Batchilder has often walked since the pandemic began.
She met a woman – she emphasized it was at a six-foot distance – and, during the conversation, realized how much they had in common, including they were both redheaded Canadians.
“I discovered she had the same sense of humour, the same interests, the same love of lipstick. I talk to her every day (now),” she says.
“I’ve had much deeper conversations with people I otherwise wouldn’t have had – fewer people, deeper dives.”
Batchilder said she’s been lucky because, even during the pandemic, she still has important connections, including with her husband and child, as well as the people she works with.
But she says there’s been “a lot of sadness” and she thinks about homeless people and other vulnerable individuals who are struggling right now.
“I honestly hope people take the time to consider those who are isolated and reach out to them,” she said.
MORE ISOLATED: STUDY
While living in the Atlantic provinces means, for the most part, avoiding the worst of the pandemic, the fact remains that many have experienced fewer connections and more isolation as a result of regulations designed to keep people safe.
Kathryn Bell, assistant professor with Acadia University’s psychology department, and Karen Blair of St. Francis Xavier University
“I’ve had much deeper conversations with people I otherwise wouldn’t have had – fewer people, deeper dives.” Melissa Batchilder
in Antigonish co-authored a study of 2,426 Canadians – including many Nova Scotians – during the early days of the pandemic.
Bell said the study showed that since the pandemic’s beginning, Nova Scotians and Canadians, in general, have felt more socially isolated. But while Nova Scotians reported lower levels of closeness to friends, they also reported feeling closer to family and having more social support, compared to those from the rest of the nation.
Bell said that Nova Scotia, being mainly rural, has unique challenges.
“We’re living in a part of the country where you can safely connect with people in person, and so we take advantage of that.”
As a professor, Bell has observed how disruptive the pandemic has been for students. In a normal year, there are more opportunities for students to connect, whether in class or in the hallways between classes. But now, many programs are either a hybrid of online and in-person or fully online.
“I think many students feel less connected to both faculty and their classmates, especially those … attending classes virtually,” Bell said.
Joe Woytiuk, a fourth-year business major at Acadia, has seen those changes himself. And while it affects all students in various ways, Woytiuk is most concerned about first-year students, many of whom are away from home for the first time and may have to self-isolate in their dorm for two weeks upon arrival.
The actual academic experience has become “depersonalized” for those taking online courses, Woytiuk said. He’s heard professors say, “All I see is not even a face, but a default icon. You don’t learn who the student is, you just learn their work.”
Woytiuk also fears this situation will affect those first-year students when out looking for employment, even including jobs on campus such as student union or teaching assistant jobs, because of the lack of personal connection – “(of) not being able to get to know or see other people, and not being able to make those connections to get those jobs.”
BUILDING BONDS
But some students have been working to ensure bonds are made. For example, a group of students take weekly walks on a Friday afternoon or Saturday morning, says Woytiuk, while others are doing social activities virtually, such as online card and board games.
Woytiuk points out that students behave differently in the face of the pandemic. Some are cautious and keep their bubble small, while others “aren’t so cautious,” he said, so these types of virtual social activities bring more people together while respecting the expectations around social distancing and the like.
Woytiuk acknowledged virtual social activity does increase screen time for students already in online or hybrid classes.
“I’ve never heard so many complaints about tired eyes, sore eyes, backs hurting,” he said.
Despite the challenges, Woytiuk praises the faculty and staff of Acadia for working hard to ensure students have the best university experience possible during these times.
“(When I chose a school), how they handled a pandemic wasn’t part of my agenda, but this was the best choice I could’ve made,” he said. “Students are adapting and need to continue to adapt. It’s difficult, but it’s what’s gotta happen.”
CHANGING VIEWPOINTS
While some may still be navigating how to socialize safely, Trish Carter puts things into perspective. The former London, Ont., resident and the rest of her family recently moved into a property in Belle River, P.E.I.
The pandemic was a prime reason the former facility manager for a London hospital moved here – Carter recovered from a major bout with COVID back in March.
“I’m lucky I survived,” she said.
That experience “changed our view about living in the rat race in Ontario,” she said.
She immediately began looking at real estate, and within six weeks, the family went from idly looking for a dream location to moving to a spacious 22-acre coastal property, complete with fields and old barns.
Carter said, “even the quarantine was great”, as they used that time to unpack and enjoy the great outdoors.
And it hasn’t taken long for both adults and children to fit in.
Carter said the two youngest are now attending Belfast Consolidated School – adding that before moving, she homeschooled her children even though schools did open again in Ontario in September.
“They love taking the school bus,” she said. “It’s so much better here than in Ontario; the class sizes are smaller here. My 11-year-old daughter was in school for three days, and she tried out for the basketball team and made it. They’re fitting in like everyone else.”
Carter used her desire to support local producers as an opportunity to make new connections and meet new people.
“As much as COVID is not a good thing to have, it opened up doors we wouldn’t have been able to do otherwise.”