Fighting the unseen — virus and racism
Here’s how I knew pandemic fatigue was something real: On the first day restaurants could open for outdoor dining, a queue of people waited patiently in the rain — for the chance to eat outdoors.
All appeared to wear masks and stand about 6 feet apart outside J. Lawrence Downtown in Bethel’s historic Opera House. Now that’s determination to get out of the house and back to a semblance of our previous lives.
Since mid-March, all but essential workers have dutifully stayed home, selfisolating from extended family, friends and neighbors. Distance learning for students, patchwork spaces for those who could work from home. A fear of catching the deadly coronavirus and a responsibility to not spread it kept us “sheltering in place” as Gov. Ned Lamont ordered.
How is it that the start on the edge of winter seems long ago, yet the 100 or so days now to the brink of summer have gone by quickly? What have we learned?
The virus is still out there, but the state seems to be over the worst of the first bout, thanks to the public’s unusual efforts. When I see that “only” 23 people died of COVID-19 Wednesday in Connecticut, I breathe relief. Until catching myself — they are 23 human beings who should still be alive, whose families are devastated.
The sense of unreality remains.
But we adapt. At first, in mid-March, it seemed strange to see someone in a mask or wearing protective gloves at the grocery store while we clambered to stock up on, well, everything, as though a monster blizzard was heading our way.
Now in mid-June, we automatically don a mask to go into the grocery store for a weekly trip to buy only what’s needed. (Well, OK, maybe automatic isn’t the right word. It still feels odd to wear a mask. But there’s no question whether to do it.)
Even before the state entered the first phase of re-opening on May 20, roads were getting busier. People had to get out.
Writing a regular column is having a conversation with readers. I’ve received emails from readers who say they feel like they know me. I treasure this connection.
So what I’m about to tell you is personal.
Our daughter Sarah and our 20-month-old grandson Gabriel, who live in Brooklyn, NY, have been staying with us these past four weeks. (I feel a bit guilty for experiencing so much joy with seeing that little guy every day when the whole world is gripped in a pandemic.)
Sare thought she had contracted the virus back in March when she had a few symptoms, but fortunately wasn’t terribly sick. She self-quarantined for 14 days. She and I decided to get tested last week.
We didn’t quite know what to expect as we pulled into the parking lot of AFC Urgent Care on Danbury’s Main Street. We followed directions and called to say we were there. A staff member met us at the door with forms. We went back to the car, filled them out and called again to return them. We were told to wait and someone would call with more questions. Then wait a little longer for someone to call and say come inside.
Tests are done in parking lot tents, but we had to go inside for the antibody tests, which require drawing blood. The value of this test is that it can tell you whether you’ve had COVID-19 at some point.
The nasal swab test determines whether you are infected with the virus that day. Admittedly, it felt uncomfortable to have a long Q-tip type instrument swirling deep in your nasal cavity — but only for seconds.
The entire process from entering and then leaving the parking lot was maybe 40 minutes. That was a Wednesday and by Saturday someone from AFC called with the results.
Sarah tested positive for antibodies, much to her relief. I tested negative to both, which didn’t surprise me. But it is good to know. If I had antibodies, then I would have donated my plasma to help others.
The testing is free. We didn’t need to have symptoms.
For Connecticut, and the country, to reopen safely widespread testing is needed. Yet the state hasn’t done a good job in getting out the word on who could and should be tested.
This becomes incredibly important now as people have been close in many cities while marching in peaceful protest of police brutality and racism in the country.
The catalyst for the protests — the death of George Floyd, a black man, at the knee of a white police officer in Minneapolis — is horrible. But just maybe some good can arise from the shock of it.
Racism is a virus that has infected our country for centuries. Progress gets made, and then we slide back. Next Saturday is Juneteenth, a celebration of the Emancipation Proclamation. The Civil Rights movement in the 1960s brought about change with voting rights, yet the Supreme Court invalidated a key part in 2013.
Can reform truly happen now? I hope so. We have to understand that racism could live in our veins, like a virus of which we are unaware. Self-examination is good but not enough; we need to walk in each other’s shoes. As a white mother, I do not have the experience of a black mother warning her son to be careful around police.
Our time of isolation, our time of fear, has enabled us to appreciate the human connection. Now is the time to channel that realization and work together toward a more just system.
It’s daunting. Because not only police procedures need reform, it’s also education, poverty, health care access, job opportunities, criminal justice and on.
A simple “fix” won’t do. Change must be systemic.
The coronavirus pandemic opened our eyes to take action against what we cannot see. We must do the same for racism.
History will judge us on how we respond.