COVID-19 prompts time for reflection
Local leaders give insights about what they’ve learned
There have been scarier times in American history, but it’s hard to imagine a stranger period than the one we’re living through. Thanks to the internet, our world is more connected than ever, and yet, meeting a friend for lunch feels like a subversive act. Who knew a trip to the supermarket could be so anxiety-ridden, but also a little exciting?
For some people, the physical isolation from family, co-workers and community has prompted soul-searching and rethinking of priorities. Like most crises, the pandemic has brought out the best and the worst in human beings. Here’s what five local leaders say they have learned about life, themselves and their communities since COVID-19 hit.
Hasshan Batts
The pandemic has put into sharp relief the disparities between Americans living on the margins and those with well-paid jobs, ample health insurance and homes.
Hasshan Batts, director of Promise Neighborhoods of the Lehigh Valley, says he’s realized how blessed and privileged he is to have his health and health insurance, a good job and a home. But the plagues of poverty, substance abuse, mental illness and violence have been exacerbated by the pandemic. Disproportionately those suffering are people of color.
“I see the difference between people of color, the Black folks I engage with and the white folks that I engage with,” he says.
“I’m surrounded by the pain,” says Batts, of Allentown. “When the pandemic hit, the safety net froze. What we saw was the folks from the community, grassroots organizations, the Black and brown churches … we’re the ones that pulled together. I think that is both inspirational and an awakening that we cannot depend on those from outside our community to take care of us.”
Batts says he’s seen a strong response from the formerly incarcerated community, with members going door to door finding out what
residents need.
“We had some guys that have been working to restore what they’ve broken in terms of community trust and the harm they’ve done to the community and they showed up every day,” he says. “It’s like those stories you hear in California with the wildfires or a levee breaks and people just show up in droves. Wesawthat, we saw people calling us every day, saying ‘What can I do, how can I help?’ “
Adrian Shanker
You won’t find many antimask protesters among members of the Bradbury-Sullivan LGBTCommunity Center, according to its director, Adrian Shanker. That’s in part because so many lived through the HIV/ AIDS crisis that ravaged their friends and families in the 1980s and ‘90s.
“LGBT people know what it means to survive a plague,” he says. “This is not our first virus. Our community is taking this seriously.”
Shanker has been heartened by the way members have pulled together to sew masks for workers and deliver food to those who need it.
While center staff have worked well with public health agencies at multiple levels of government, they’ve realized they need a seat at the table.
“I’ve learned that if we don’t speak up for our community, that others may not speak up for us,” Shanker says.
Most of all, he’s encouraged by the resilience he’s seen.
“Strength is important, but resiliency is more our ability to persevere rather than our ability to be strong,” he says.
“I say that because most of us have experienced some form of mental health challenges during COVID-19. We’re either isolated or lonely or depressed or anxious about the future,” he says. “So strength gives the perception that those feelings don’t have a place, and they absolutely have a place. But resiliency is about how we persevere through the challenges. How we see the light at the end of the tunnel and push ourselves to get there.”
Teri SorgMcManamon
One of the insidious things about this pandemic is that it threatens not just the lives and health of human beings, but also the well-being and vibrancy of downtowns and the small businesses that are their lifeblood.
Teri Sorg-McManamon, an Emmaus councilwoman and past president of the Emmaus Arts Commission, has been encouraged to see borough residents conscientiously buying local and ordering takeout to help stores and restaurants survive. But she’s also aware of how COVID-19 exposed the precariousness of existence for too many people, shops and churches.
“I’ve learned more about food insecurity in the Lehigh Valley, the homeless plight, business owners that are making the decision to close permanently,” she says.
For its part, the borough is trying to keep life as normal as possible while holding the line on taxes, she says.
“Our strength lies together as a community,” she says.
After getting laid off from her advertising job in April, Sorg-McManamon has also used the pandemic-imposed isolation to learn.
“I really wanted to emerge as a better human,” she says.
She caught up on her reading, took advantage of free online classes and webinars, including things like how to make mozzarella and how to compost, and guidelines for crosswalk safety for her work with the borough.
She’s also realized that after 30 years of volunteering in Emmaus on boards and with community groups, service is at the core of her sense of self.
“I feel euphoric when I know I’ve got a purpose and I’m helping other people,” she says. Looking forward to the end of the pandemic, she says: “May we all have the lessons that change us forever.”
Amy Beck
Nursing homes and other communal living institutions have been among the places hit hardest by the pandemic, making people with disabilities among its prime victims.
“That has been horrifying,” says Amy Beck, executive director of the Lehigh Valley Center for Independent Living. “COVID went for vulnerable people at first where there was congregant living. Our brothers and sisters who were in institutions and never really thought they should leave, many of them l ost t heir lives.”
Others with disabilities are often in low-paying jobs, and Beck worries they might be the first to be let go by struggling businesses. Yet, front-line workers whostay on are at higher risk for catching the disease.
Because of a longtime muscle disease that has caused her to need a wheelchair, Beck has to be ultra-careful about avoiding contact with relatives and friends. But working remotely and staying at home with her husband has also given her a glimpse into what life might be like when she retires one day.
“It clarified for me and definitely clarified for my husband and I that we still really like each other, we love each other, we like spending time together,” Beck says.
The shutdown has also led her to reconnect with the faith of her youth, Church of the Brethren in Wyomissing, Berks County, through Zoomservices.
“I had a lot of time to reexamine what it means to me to be a peace-seeking person,” she says. “I really found something there.”
Yamelisa Tevaras
Working as a drug and alcohol counselor and caring for her two small children while running a foundation has given Yamelisa Tevaras an expanded appreciation for the support of family and community. But it has also heightened her empathy for those struggling.
Since founding the nonprofit Unidos Foundation in 2019, Tevaras has worked with her brother, Franis Jimenez-Pereyra, and his company, Trilu Media Studios, to put refurbished laptops and Chrome books into the hands of Allentown School District students. With help from the Allentown School District Foundation, Unidos has served 276 families, getting them computers or hot spots for internet connections.
“I knew how difficult it was for me [even with] those things and I couldn’t imagine the parents who have to work two jobs but now they have to stay home with their children to do school work and not having stable internet and not having a computer and not speaking English,” Taveras says.
She has learned that kindness is contagious.
“We’d get calls from families that received a laptop and then they would turn around and be like, ‘Can we give $20 for the next family?’ “Tevaras says. “Everyone has been paying it forward throughout the pandemic. I’m hungry today so my friend will feed me; tomorrow I have an extra plate, so I’m going to share it forward. That has been the most beautiful surprise I think I have had throughout the pandemic.”