During my early elementary school years, we moved around quite a bit. A year here, six months there, two or three years in the same place if we were very lucky. During one of these longer stretches, I had a couple of girls that I had become pretty close friends with. Jody, with her jet black silky smooth hair that was always braided beautifully in even plaits I envied by her mother, and Margarita, who had gifted me a necklace of turquoise colored beads that would be a favorite of mine for many years. I loved them both equally.
Near the end of my stay at that school, there was a sudden shift in our group. Margarita had become an accepted regular in the most popular group of girls at our school. She asked them if Jody and I could join their group, and the answer was that I was cool enough but Jody was not. We were both told this by Margarita, who decided the social status membership in that clique afforded was important enough to sever ties with anyone outside of it. I was also told that if I wanted to be part of that group, I would need to stop talking with Jody.
I would love to tell you this is a story about what an awesome friend I was, but it isn’t. My family was very poor, and there were a lot of other issues. I was frequently teased for my dramatically out-of-date and patched up clothing during my first few elementary school years. And though I was past wearing things with patches, and all of us at that particular school were on a pretty similar economic footing, I also felt like being a member of that group would remove enough unpleasantness from my school days to make it worth my while. So I summarily told Jody that would be my decision, and the image of that hurt settling deep into her eyes is a picture I could paint until this day.
So I clustered for a nearly a week with these girls, as my internal misery increased daily. These girls were deliberately mean to other people, and that is something I generally preferred not to do unless I was defending myself from the verbal attacks of another. By day five I had enough, and during the lunch recess I heatedly told them how horrible I thought they were to other people and that I wanted nothing to do that. I am not sure if I actually defiantly flipped my blonde hair (because it was much lighter at the time) or if I just mentally added that in because it’s how I felt, but I stormed off to find Jody and apologize.
Apologize I did, and she graciously accepted that with a shy smile, but there was still always a shadow of hurt crouching in the back of her eyes. I learned many things that week, but one of the most important is that popularity isn’t my thing. Being able to live with the choices I make is. That doesn’t mean I’ve never hurt another person since. I regret to inform you I am quite imperfect and very human, and while I do the best I can, sometimes I do unintentionally mess things up. Much of the time though, when I act on something, it is because I am trying to do what I think is the right thing.
Now, if you have correctly guessed that this ramble foreshadows that I am about to say something that I suspect could be unpopular, kudos! I sincerely applaud you for reading the undertones of my prose. But I ask you to bear with me anyways and remember that these are difficult times for many people, and each of us handles life’s challenges and crises a bit differently.
I have heard worries from some who work in fields considered essential by their local governments that they will be viewed as selfish by some for doing their jobs. And that those who benefit from receiving their services will likewise be viewed as selfish for allowing them to work. You know, I don’t think there’s anything selfish about trying to put food on your plate or maintain a roof over your head as carefully as you can if you are able to do so in a safe manner right now. I think these are scary times for many people, and we will need to be patient with each other first and foremost, even if our other needs and wants may differ.
This virus isn’t going anywhere any time soon. We all have to be as careful as we can be right now to slow the spread down enough to prevent hospitals here in AZ from being overwhelmed so that our healthcare heroes can provide the best care possible, but I don’t think that means we should each completely turn our backs on those around us for the next year and a half or so until a vaccine is available.
I see many things in the news that make me sad. Neighbors sawing down trees and blocking off driveways because their new neighbor has an out-of-state license plate and they are sure those newbies must have COVID. Individuals luring instacart shoppers with high tips just to zero them out once the delivery is made. Sometimes, unfortunately, the “survival of the fittest” mentality doesn’t bring out the very best that our species has to offer.
As a person with mild asthma and a history of liver disease, I understand the need to be cautious. And for therapists who have felt comfortable returning to our home this past week, you know exactly how intense I am with all our infection control and precautions. But I also understand nothing I can do, including shutting my doors to everyone outside of my family and only accepting deliveries, will completely guarantee my safety.
I read Dr. Cara Christ’s publicly available letter to Governor Ducey when she recommended “enhanced physical distancing” here in Arizona. I loved something she said, and I think it is important for all of us to remember. She said, “I have significant concerns about the public health impacts a prolonged social distancing strategy could have on the mental health of Arizonans.”
And she is right. We have to balance out the holistic well-being of fragile populations within our communities as well. Declining mental health also can have a negative impact on the immune systems of the very individuals we are trying to protect right now. I think we need to ensure that while we are being cautious, we are also being compassionate. Humane. And that we are not permanently stigmatizing certain groups because of where they work, or who they work with/for. I don’t think surviving this will mean nearly as much to me if I cannot stand the person I became to live and “tell the tale.”
I have read the comments of healthcare experts who state we should be acting as if anybody could have this virus because we know that asymptomatic cases of infected individuals has happened and will continue to happen- that means, somebody’s trusted loved ones tested positive but never developed symptoms. You cannot avoid a person working in a certain field and expect that to protect you from infection. You must be careful about hand washing, mask wearing, disinfecting, and standing a sufficient distance away from everyone if you truly want to decrease your risk.
I know the fear when it comes to this virus, and when COVID came to our community, I had decisions to make about whether or not I would lean into the fear or lean into the compassion. I am sure I will do none of it perfectly, but I want to lean into the compassion- this day, and every day for the rest of my life. Sometimes I will fall short of everything I want to be, but I will give myself some grace and pick myself up to try again. Because as Hannah reminded me when I messed up the sewing on a mask two days ago, “mistakes are just a learning experience.” And learning experiences shouldn’t cause us to give up- on ourselves or one another.
