Do the weeks even matter anymore? The initial idea behind these blog posts was to capture life in quarantine, but “quarantine” itself feels rather amorphous. In Chicago, more spaces re-opened in June and there’s a greater freedom of movement in the city. But for me, unemployment continues and life remains mostly confined to my apartment and the occasional distanced meeting with a friend. Now that the city has re-opened to an extent- is it still quarantine? Or is it simply life in the time of COVID?
Without the structure of a job or other obligations, my day-to-day hasn’t changed much since March. Recently, I’ve been able to plug into different organizing groups (check ‘em out: https://www.im4rj.org/ and #DefundCPD) and weekly Zoom meetings and digital workspaces have helped foster a sense of busyness, while also giving me real work to do. The tasks and schedules that come with involvement in these groups have been a bit of a lifeline for me. I consider myself highly self-motivated, but realizing that it’s been four months and counting since a semblance of “normal” life makes it increasingly challenging for me to muster the energy to tackle the independent projects I felt more eager to pursue in the spring. I’m grateful for these communities where I can engage with other folks and collaborate in ways that feel meaningful.
Recently, I’ve felt a greater sense of mourning the loss of normalcy. I took a walk around the Museum Campus and Northerly Island, places I used to frequent when I was going to school downtown. It’s one of the most beautiful areas in Chicago- a perfect view of the skyline, blue waves lapping alongside the Lakeshore Trail, and, on Northerly Island, paths winding through a prairieland that feels impossible in a city. And while people were taking advantage of a gorgeous summer day, lifeguards kept people away from an empty beach- which continue to remain closed. The open stretch of sand bordered by sparkling water and blue skies filled me with a sense of longing for the “before times” and a sadness for all that’s missing or different this summer.
Obviously a closed beach is a minor inconvenience compared to the devastation of COVID-19: the loss of life, the millions of people facing precarious and uncertain situations, the ineptitude and disdain for human life of the government (and a good portion of employers…). Yet from macro to micro, this virus has upended every facet of life and an empty beach feels like a reminder of all that’s been lost and the continuing crisis, even on a beautiful summer day.
While I’ve adapted to living in this “time of COVID,” I’ve stubbornly refused to see this period as “the new normal.” I feel like I’m treading water through this liminal state- wanting to believe that it’s all temporary and will end eventually, while feeling not only an anxiety about “when?” but a growing sense of dread for what the world will look like after. And all the while, trying to keep my head above water, taking each day as it comes, rather than dwelling too much on either past or future. There are fears beginning to creep in: the loss of the extra $600 in unemployment payments, the looming expiration of my insurance, the building exhaustion of the indefinite (from a return to work, to the end of COVID itself), the overall sense that my stamina is wearing thin…
I wasn’t intending for this post to be so pessimistic. Life in this pandemic seems to move through stages and I’m currently facing more mental/emotional roadblocks than I have in past months. However, I’m in an incredibly privileged and stable situation, despite the challenges of joblessness. I’ve had the opportunity to visit my parents in Minnesota and spend time with them during a second trip to Northern Wisconsin. I am grateful for access to those spaces and, in this sense, indefinite free time has been a positive! In these past weeks, I’ve participated in protests, celebrated my birthday by kayaking on the Chicago River, enjoyed perfect summer days, and joined with both fellow union members and Chicagoans on imagining and working towards a better world.
Life looks different this year and right now I’m grappling with the sadness of this fact. But this year has also provided me space to get to know myself, to self-educate on issues of abolition and re-imagining justice, to wrestle and play with free time (in both the positive and negative), and to appreciate moments of beauty/joy in the world around me- a world that may be less expansive than the international travels of past years, but has presented the challenge of finding the special in the commonplace.
XXX
Photos up top were taken during a second visit to Northern Wisconsin. During one of our first nights of our stay, my dad and I were able to take photos of the NEOWISE comet, which was particularly visible with the new moon and being a clear night.
The gallery below includes shots from Chicago and images of George Floyd Square at the intersection of 38th and Chicago in Minneapolis. It’s a powerful and emotional space to enter- city streets co-opted as a living space of memorial and protest. My words won’t do it justice, but it was heavy space.
