Life during pandemic
Houstonians share how they are coping with the measures needed to halt spread
We asked four Houstonians to tell us how thing s have changed for them in the face of the pandemic. Here are their stories. — The editors.
Blair Ault, bartender at Poison Girl
Yes, there were clues: Ohio, Illinois, New York City, Boston — whole states and major cities already announced closing bars and reducing restaurants to takeout over the weekend. It made sense Houston would follow. So Harris County Judge Lina Hidalgo and Mayor Sylvester Turner’s announcement wasn’t met with complete shock, but with a slow burn of dread and embrace of the catastrophic unknown.
Something I’ve always liked about being a member of the service industry is that it really doesn’t matter where you work, everyone tends to treat each other like we are members of the same club. I’ve been in the industry for almost 10 years as a barback and bartender for both Montrose’s Poison Girl and its downtown sister bar Little Dipper. What I’ve seen consistently is an industry full of people who care about others, and most of them are cared for in return by their co-workers, regulars and, if you are lucky (which I am), your managers and the establishment owners. The harm of COVID-19 stretches beyond its symptoms, and
I’m incredibly anxious for everyone I know — whether I work with them directly or not.
First there is the worry of our personal health. All of us were interacting with people from who-knowswhere. Is this sore throat a symptom or a reaction to pollen? Did I remember to sanitize my hands every time I handled cash? We won’t know for another couple weeks perhaps.
Then there’s the potential financial disaster arriving for some of us now or soon. Many of us rely on St. Patrick’s Day festivities and spring break business to recover from scant postholiday “Dryuary” patronage and to get us through to Memorial Day, graduations and the summer. While there are some who are hopeful we’ll return in April, even a two-week shutdown can be a devastating blow to future employment. In the last year, a friend from high school opened up a bar near downtown. There’s already the risky struggle in building a bar business in its first two years without the overwhelming shock of a forced closing.
Yes, there’s the option to apply for unemployment. Local charities like Southern Smoke and generosity from spirit brands also help, as does the communal support Houstonians already know well from every weather disaster. Unfortunately, there isn’t a secure safety net and a clear plan, devised before the crisis is upon us. It’s unclear who the casualties may be or how the government may help, and so for now all we have are lots of questions.
Will people care enough about their service workers to support them, or is everyone hurting too much right now? What does “support” even mean?
Each day comes with many potential answers, but also a repetition of the same question: How long is this going to last?
Ault has been a barback and bartender for Poison Girl for nine years.
Zach Hale, physician
Life at work in the hospital has taken a surreal shift over the last couple of weeks. Just one week ago in
my hospital, the threat of COVID-19 was still just that, a threat. While we have not been ignorant of fact that it is not a matter of if, but when COVID-19 infiltrates our work lives, the threat remained almost ephemeral — one that lived on the news, the medical forums and our email inboxes.
For most of us in the health care profession, our work lives are also a big part of our social lives. By proximity, like-mindedness and shared experiences, our coworkers are our friends. Yet, over the last week, the culture in the hospital has become more sober. Hugs were replaced by elbow or fist bumps, and even fist bumps have now been replaced with awkward waves. The halls have become airy and quiet. People seem to be talking and lingering less, going home the minute their work is complete. Social distancing has consequently become not only a physical separation but an emotional one. The camaraderie of our work is being tested, and unfortunately it comes at a time when we may need it most. In one more week, I expect the hospital environment to be different still.
While we are not yet “in the trenches,” the front lines of emergency services and intensive care units (ICUs) have already begun the fight in most hospital systems in the country. As I walk to a consult, the room doors with respiratory isolation signs seem to have increased overnight. Given that this is a novel virus, treating infected patients and protecting yourself in the workplace (and outside of work) are things we are learning in a state of flux, daily. For the most part, I have been impressed by the staff showing up every day and continuing to push ahead. However, it does feel like the normalcy we are clinging to is winding down fast as cases and clinic visits are canceling. There is an eerie calm right now.
Some personnel have not shown up to work either to selfquarantine or socially isolate due to risk factors. Protective equipment such as appropriate masks and splash visors have had to be locked away to prevent theft and losss and will likely be in short supply soon, even before things really peak. There are legitimate concerns regarding if we will have what we need to protect ourselves in order to treat and protect others, much like in other parts of the world. The U.S. medical system will be tested in ways we’ve never seen before. We will need to do more with less. I urge everyone to do their part and stay home to prevent the spread of this disease.
Hale, MD, is a physician at Baylor College of Medicine and Baylor St. Luke’s Medical Center. The views and opinions expressed here are solely his.
Ruby Amare, owner of Wanderlikewonder
Something unique about the creative and entrepreneurial community here in Houston is that people truly look out for each other. Having lived in other cities for some years, I have found Houston to have some of the most supportive people when it comes to cultivating local businesses. We really do care for our friends next door.
Wonderlikewander is my shop, a modern and vintage clothing boutique. We have been open here in EaDo since 2018. We were previously online and on Instagram, but felt that it was time to open up our storefront. We host local brand workshops, monthly open mic nights and many other creative events throughout the year.
My shop has definitely taken a hit with the rise of COVID-19 across the globe. We usually have anywhere between 60 and 120 people who visit our store daily, but we are currently at about 15-20 people daily. Our loyal customers have been calling in and checking to see if we are still open and how they can purchase items. We are taking measures to assure that our space is clean and that we have hand sanitizer available for everyone who walks through the door.
As a brick and mortar store, we depend on foot traffic to make a profit. Like other local stores, Wonderlikewander will have gift cards available for purchase right now for those who would like to support and shop with us at a later time. We are also offering free shipping. Our live shows have pivoted to an online streaming platform. While we are open for limited hours now, we are expecting things to change as they have been, hour by hour, day by day. We’re thankful for the patience and support of our patrons who continue to support the store, even from afar.
I had a really faithful customer call the other day to see if we were open, brought a few friends and came and supported greatly. My challenge to Houstonians would be to support local businesses as much as possible, now more than ever. We are praying for our city, our country and the world at this time. We love you all more than you could ever know, and we will get through this together. Amare is the owner of Wanderlikewonder, a store in EaDo.
Brandi McCall, suddenly homeschooling mom
Growing up I never considered homeschooling. I thought the kids that were homeschooled were at a disadvantage. How could they compete academically and socially with those of us who attended a real school, a public one?
Then I had a child and became more aware of the need to protect him. For the first time, I thought maybe homeschooling was a better way to keep my kindergartener safe. Despite my revelation, however, we enrolled our son in public school and hoped for the best.
Fast forward seven months later and again I am faced with the decision of homeschooling. Except, it wasn’t a decision at all. It was a mandate. And one that I completely support. Being in the medical field, I fully understand the need to close schools, cancel events and practice social distancing given the current coronavirus pandemic. COVID-19 is highly contagious and while most people will recover fine, we are trying to protect those who might not. So now, I am not only a nurse practitioner, a wife, a mother, but for the next four weeks I am also a kindergarten teacher. At first, the concept was overwhelming, but very quickly schools and learning agencies across the country rose to the occasion and offered a multitude of resources. Lesson plans, videos, suggested readings and interactive social media were at my fingertips. The school Facebook page was updated multiple times per day with links. They even came up with a themed virtual spirit week encouraging students to participate by posting pictures of themselves on social media using a dedicated hashtag.
While I was grateful for all of the guidance, I quickly became overwhelmed again because there was too much information. Too many websites. Too many options for online books. Too many learning sites offering free subscriptions. Resource overload. I decided to focus on a lesson plan the school had sent out, and I developed a daily schedule that included writing, reading, social skills, maker space, lunch outside, then science, math, ABC Mouse, art and music. I set my alarm and went to sleep feeling somewhat prepared for the following day.
Monday morning at my dining room table I started my journey as a substitute kindergarten teacher. We began the day with handwriting worksheets and short YouTube videos emphasizing the letters F and Q. We practiced our three sight words for the day: all, had, as. Maker space was next where I challenged my little one to build a Lego bridge and car. He got distracted with the Lego people so I built the bridge and we nixed the car. Science followed. We watched two short BrainPOP Jr. and Dr. Binocs videos explaining the parts of a plant. Then we headed outside with a blank piece of paper, found a Louisiana Iris, and sketched and labeled it: leaves, flower, stem, bud, roots. It was cloudy and warm outside so we rode bikes and kicked a soccer ball around for recess. Then we headed back inside for lunch which was followed by a video about sea turtles.
Despite my perfectly typed plan, the day was not without frustration and impatience. My son was excited to learn from home for about 20 minutes, and then got fidgety and complained when he got something wrong or I pointed out that he wrote the number 2 backwards. He whined when he couldn’t read a word and didn’t want to be told to “sound it out.” We never made it to math, ABC Mouse, art or music. Within the first two hours, I thought to myself how do teachers do this? How will people do this financially and emotionally for the next several weeks? Maybe the rest of the school year?
I’m fortunate in that I work three days a week and can homeschool the other four, and my husband works from home on the days I work. The impact of coronavirus on our lives is severe, and also one of the most intriguing current events I've ever endured. Will we get through this? Yes we will, we always do. Can we as parents homeschool our children for the next four weeks? Yes we can, because we are adaptable. But will we get to the point where we actually enjoy it? I sure hope so.