Amid the pandemic, kindness is evident
Pia Chatterjee started by lending a hand to her neighbors, older Filipinos in a multigenerational home that includes a grandmother in fragile health, who weren’t techsavvy and lacked information about vaccine distribution.
After she booked coronavirus vaccine appointments for them, the San Francisco writer helped a handful of teachers at her son’s school. Now she gets a few emails a day from those seeking appointments.
“Some are more complicated than others, but after a year of isolation, it is very rewarding to be able to connect with people who are already overwhelmed with the stuff life’s thrown at them,” said Chatterjee, who scouts the internet for appointments. “Years of signing my son up for summer camps in San Francisco has been good training for this!”
“In normal circumstances, we have so many opportunities to help and be able to request help: ‘Hold the door’ at BART, give a dollar to a homeless person, help a child with shoelaces,” she told me. “With the shutdown, these random moments of kindness and connection have completely been eliminated and I realized … how much I counted on it for that burst of endorphins. Without those small daily urban connections, I felt really unmoored.”
We’re on the verge of the oneyear anniversary of shutdowns in the Bay Area, and I’ve been thinking about how the world has changed since then. Like me, perhaps some of you also scrolled back in your camera roll, or looked at your calendars, from just before and after the days we first sheltered in place. You can’t help but feel mournful and nostalgic.
The first week of March 2020, I had lunch with a friend, coffee with another, and went out to dinner twice with others. Already, I had an inkling those opportunities would soon disappear. As the days roll back around, it’s been a gut punch to consider how long it’s been since many of us have seen beloved friends and family.
The pandemic — which has killed more than half a million people in the United States and crippled sectors of the economy — and the death of George Floyd at the hands of police led to a national reckoning. The structural inequalities and injustices laid bare have played out again amid the country’s bumpy vaccine rollout.
And yet, it seemed fitting that the trial of exofficer Derek Chauvin — charged in Floyd’s death — began this week. Vaccine distribution is ramping up, and President Biden has promised enough doses for every adult by the end of May. For now, though, neighbors helping neighbors, strangers helping strangers, helps to bridge the gap.
“DrawTogether,” a series of online drawing classes by San Francisco illustrator Wendy MacNaughton and her wife, author Caroline Paul, buoyed many families during the shutdown. They’re starting up again on Friday, March 12, with new shows released weekly via a free newsletter.
In Portola Valley, PV Cares assists vulnerable households with grocery shopping errands, emotional support and minor computer help. Busiest in the early days of the pandemic, less so now but still active, volunteers remain ready for new emergencies or crises.
“I’m sure there will be more needs in the near future,” said Rebecca Flynn, one of the cofounders.
Author Janis Cooke Newman offers free 90minute workshops to help participants develop a daily meditation and writing practice.
These efforts are among the many born out of the pandemic, as people search for ways in which they might be of service.
Even the smallest favors can foster and strengthen connection. I recently mailed a box of lemons to a poet and essayist in my writing group who lives in snowy climes. In turn, she sent me a jar of lemonzested sugar that I used in a pound cake that tasted like sunshine.
Now, I’d like to ask a favor of you. Last year, I curated poems from readers reflecting upon the themes of the coronavirus, Black Lives Matter and gratitude. I’d love to read your latest poetry about how the world has transformed and your hopes for the future. Send your submission by March 21, and it might be shared in a future column.