The past six decades in my experience of the United States included unusual, perhaps interesting, times. Seared into my memory are events that altered my future engagement with the world and the dreams I’d had when young. Each disturbing or tragic event taught me something I could not have learned as well or as deeply without having actively lived through it. Assassinations gathered my family in front of the television. Nightly news aired images of killings throughout a war that much of the nation believed was wrong. Ed Sullivan and many T.V. shows introduced me to musicians and comedians who gave me a glimpse into a much larger world beyond my neighborhood. Later, there were times of odd and even days designated for filling up one’s car with gas. AIDS appeared, a virus that made love become a potentially life-threatening decision. And more conflicts erupted, over and over, many due to the actions of my country’s leaders.
In none of such times, however, were people in the United States afraid to continue simple, basic activities like mailing parcels or purchasing groceries. Yes, there were fallout shelters and elementary school drills to avoid imagined nuclear debris (as if our desks could save us). None, however, required physical protection from an invisible threat that could weasel its way into our sinuses and try to kill us even when we actively attempted to avoid it. Pandemics in which people meant to be in charge but who didn’t understand what was going on were in historic events in previous generations and centuries, not in ours.
Individuals of every age and walk of life have been cast abruptly into a next level of consciousness as if while we were sleeping. We are challenged to imagine a new future well before many of us were ready to try. Time before this pandemic is long gone. A mere few months have passed and there is only a distant memory of a “before”. Creative works and activities of all the kinds we used to enjoy in full presence, opening receptions and performances we would attend, gatherings of all kinds that we took for granted, feel way back in that past. People recently have been clamoring for places to “open up”, to “return to normal”, as if there ever had been a “normal”, as if any kind of “normalcy” hadn’t been destroyed by design incrementally over the last four years (including during the lead-in to the election). Many of us remember the mourning that darkened our spirits in November 2016, displacing our shocks of disbelief. We worried things could go terribly wrong, but I, for one, never imagined this.
Many life-altering memories within these decades have been shared across the nation, across the planet, but none altered life in such an all-consuming way as COVID19 has. Before, it was possible to protest, make conscious lifestyle changes and swim against the stream with a feeling that collective efforts would eventually take hold. By the Women’s March of 2017 a glimmer of hope remained for many, albeit overshadowed by the deja vu of having been around this block way too long ago. By 2017 the next waves of feminists had, thankfully, emerged; fully supported, finally. They helped create the Me Too Movement that successfully broke new ground. Too many of the same issues, and sadly, more, still needed to be addressed, while the climate was going haywire right before our eyes. To think about it all was overwhelming. Nature, with her prolonged systemic mistreatment, finally decided where the overarching focus must be, and here we are in all its complexity.
As usual, creatives of all kinds have risen to the occasion to invent new ways to engage with others, use their talents, provide moments of calm, laughter, beauty, and help us feel that we will get through this strange in-between time. In unusual times creative minds do unusual things and through them create new realities. The meaning of the words “Essential” and “Privilege” has been fully absorbed in our newly-forming reality. Who is it on the front lines? Who keeps our world actually functioning? What are the essential jobs? Are those in them paid as they deserve to be? Many who are home have found ways and made efforts to keep spirits lifted and provide myriad types of support. Every bit matters as we realize how much all things interconnect.
Following are some links to people, words, and music that I don’t want to forget or that I’ve posted somewhere but anyone reading this may not have seen:
- Yusuf / Cat Stevens’ Message of Peace
- Today’s WBUR OnPoint, Childhood and Coronavirus: How Times of Crisis Shape Kids
- Heather Cox Richardson, daily parsing of events, Letters from an American
- Amplifier Foundation, the best of activist artworks, downloadable
- Xiuhtezcatl Martinez, Earth Guardians
- Violinist Michelle Kim’s Electric Violin Fantasy
- Curt Smith and his daughter, Diva, Mad World
- Willie Nelson and his sons, Lukas and Micah, Hello Walls
- Taylor Swift on Global Citizen, One World Together at Home, Soon You’ll Get Better
- John Krasinski, Some Good News
- Cara Ober’s BeMORE Art, Quarantine Diaries
Long Distance Virtual Performances – Tip of the Iceberg!
- Ukulele Orchestra of Great Britain, Crazy
- Boston Children’s Choir, Rise Up
- Camden Voices, Here Comes the Sun
- Camden Voices, True Colors
- ArtistsCAN, Canada Strong, Lean On Me
- Shelbie Rassler, What the World Needs Now is Love
- Shelbie Rassler, Fight Song, for Virtual Orchestra
- The Cast of Beautiful, You’ve Got a Friend
- Harrison Sheckler, Virtual Choir, You’ll Never Walk Alone
- Couch Choir sings We Can Be Heroes
- Phoenix Chamber Choir, For the Longest Time
- Cast and band members of Moonlight Stage Productions’ Mamma Mia, Dancing Queen
With hope for an awakened reality post-Pandemic. May we stay safe, well, grow larger and give as we can.
©2020 Janet Maher