“The world breaks everyone”: Plague Diary

Wendy Brawer it's just budding... wherever you are, nature has healing power

Virtual Passover.

Plague scenes and daily lives.

Daydreams and Instagram shots from trips long passed.

A quiet moment in between

Not quite Havana 

A socially distant Easter 

A friend from Hawaii asked how I was handling things last week.

It all depends on the day.

Mood are up and down.

800 deaths a day for a few days there.

“NYC cases top 100,000, death toll reaches nearly 7,000....”

Its gorgeous out.

But we get fined it we violate social distancing rules.

Our mood is a little dark.

Most stores closed.

I walk out every day, go for a bike ride, cheer the healthcare workers, ride to the cemetery or the waterfront and think about what I might have been doing if this wasn’t happening.

Travel, off to Havana or Hong Kong or Vietnam to have adventures.

Instead they are in my mind in old Instagram photos.  

Some days, its rough, four of us cooped up in the house.

But its not war.

War and Peace in the head.

We have each other and our thoughts, our majestic city.

Its not a war, but it has been a battle.

Humans raging war on the planet.

And she pushed back.

800, 700 deaths a day.

It's a horror.

But its not like we didn’t see it coming.

Too many of us ignored the science.

No one knows what to do about civil liberties.

Safety is essential, but so are our hard-fought freedoms.

“The real worry is not the virus, but its potential legacy upon our freedoms,” says Dario  Pio Muccilli, from Turin in Italy.

I’m a little worried.

How long are we going to be locked inside?

How long before we can hug again?

“We all need physical connection,” says Alissa.

“Free love for all…. Embrace our needs in this difficult time.

Even in those unclear relationships…”

“Hugs, kisses, being close enough to smell someone…” says Michael.

Social connections dislodging and reconnecting.

 Al and I are comparing requiems.

We both like the Mozart.

The Brahms.

The Bruckner not so much.

Beethoven Missa Solemnis. Rather a bold one says Al.

How about Britten war requiem, the Berlioz and Dvorak, Faure , Verdi messa da requiem.

My mood is up and down.

800 deaths a day,

Each one with a story.

The lady at the YMCA, my friend Marni knew her.

She writes:

“I've known Janice for the last 12 years at the Y. She often gave me the just go on through waive when I was carrying bags & babies. She added kids from the neighborhood to my family account when money was tight. For a time I was the mom to several sets of twins. When my toddler pulled the fire alarm (don't ask), she was calm, even assured my terrified kid everything would be alright. People like Janice Rodman make communities in small and big smiles, by seeing each person. I feel sorrow for her beautiful family, and our community. Rest in Power.”

When I can, I go biking

with the teenager, who glides through the streets on her purple skates.

The parks are closed.

So she jumps into the no play area, other kids joining.

Fighting off the stir crazy.

The feeling it’s all going down.

Jr Year in high school is gone,

Who knows what senior year will look like.

Summer camp at Barnard is now online.

Jones Hopkins canceled.

Our war on science has its casualties.

Without mass testing this has spun beyond reach.

In global trade, why not have global science,

Open borders for ideas and research, instead of our parochialism.

"It's been a colossal management and leadership failure," remarks Gregg Gonsalves of the Yale School of Medicine. "As somebody who watched the AIDS epidemic unfold in this country, I recognize it as a political crisis first and foremost," he says.

My friends are coping as best they can.

Charles King is organizing a shelter for homeless kids coping with this.

“They are the new outcasts,” said King, 65. “This resonated deeply with me because back in the 1980s you had AIDS organizations that were not dealing with the homeless and homeless shelters that were not taking anyone with AIDS.”

Kate Barnhart is getting poor people meals.

For many, it’s a scary déjà vu.

My friend AlanTimothy Lunceford-Stevens notes,

“I was aware of HIV (not the name) in 1980 when my friends were dying of a mysterious illness, in San Francisco and New York.  I searched for an answer and did not find it, until a fuck buddy died, and anger surfaced in my GUT, and I found ACT UP NY, with US government inaction on June 22, 1987.  Republican Ronald Reagan did not utter the word – AIDS for seven years.  And let thousands of Americans die.  Now thirty years later, we have another Republican, who did not do anything to Stop COVID-19, this past year and a half.  Deaf ears to AIDS and the White House, other priorities, like teen vaping and the election.  Donald Trump allowed thousands of Americans to die of COVID-19. The Republican Party can never escape those two presidents and that they care about nothing but white heterosexual people.”

Tim has been out in Central Park, where Samantian Purse, a virulently homophobic organization has put up a hospital. He writes.

“HATE IN NEW YORK PEOPLE'S PARK CENTRAL and the MAYOR, SPEAKER OF CITY COUNCIL, and STATE SENATOR have not STOPPED the VIOLATION of NYC LAWS AGAINST HATE. THE POLICY EXISTS. THE LAW EXISTS. The NYC Department of HUMAN RIGHTS is LISTENING NOW. IF you are GLBTQI, BLACK, or a WOMAN in NEW YORK. Samantian Purse cared NOTHING ABOUT YOU? Why are you SILENT?

Rev Billy was arrested there putting up a rainbow flag.

He spent 20 hours in jail afterward, literally putting his life on the line.

Others are watching, making sure to take care of ourselves.

Jim Eigo writes:

GREETINGS FROM (YES, AGAIN!) VIRAL PANDEMIC CENTRAL: who know me know that for the 41+ years that I have lived on Ave A, a block above Tompkins Square Park, the Park has remained one of my most frequent haunts, especially in the Spring when it blooms.
So here I am in the Park yesterday. Except when it’s too wet or chilly, I have walked daily to the Park (keeping my Social Distance) as part of my almost-lockdown fitness program. Yesterday the Spring weather was gorgeous, but I was sad to see the dog runs are now locked up – sad, but I understand the civic reasoning. (The 3 kiddy playgrounds have been locked-up for days – & in fact, pre-schoolers, though often adorable, are terrible at Social Distancing.) One of the hawks that have been making the Park a springtime home since (I think) Spring of 2013 put on its most impressive show of the season so far (of those that I have been audience to), & this was some compensation for not seeing the dog packs run & scuffle.
A few pandemic models that I have seen are predicting that Thursday or Friday of this week will be the most excruciating for NYC during the current epidemic. History may record that the city – which all but came to a stop on Friday the 13th of March – faced its greatest trial on Good Friday 4 weeks later. May we all survive it with our health & our spirits.”

In some corners, we’re fighting each other, trying to make our university work, where we are teaching online. Some have gotten sick, the administration wants our passwords just in case.

Not so fast, we say. There is still a contract.  Privacy still counts.  IT can get you passwords.

Online class is just not the same, without each other.

But we manage and look cautiously.

Sarah Schulman, another CUNY faculty member, writes

April 4 at 9:50 AM ·

SOME THOUGHTS ON MY SCHOOL BECOMING A FIELD HOSPITAL

So the College of Staten Island is becoming a field hospital, and like most teachers in the United States, our faculty has been sent on-line.

ONLINE TEACHING IN THE PUBLIC SPHERE
Students are having problems: They are overwhelmed, a lot of CUNY students don't have computers- as Cynthia Chris points out there is a distribution system. They are home with laid-off parents and siblings and children home from school. If there is a computer there is competition for it, and also some don't have wifi.

Teachers want the students to get something out of these classes. The schools (rich and poor) don't want to pay back tuition, or their existences - in many cases- will be threatened. If a school is tuition-dependant, they are in trouble.

HOW LONG WILL CUNY BE TEACHING ON-LINE?
Until the epidemic is over. When will that be? When there is nationally coordinated production and distribution of medical supplies. When there are enough medical facilities and workers. When the new 3 hour test is widely available for free. When there is no triage system for medical care. When treatments are developed and widely distributed for free.

In other words: a long time from now.

Don't expect classroom teaching in the Fall.

WHAT IS THE FUTURE OF CUNY?
I think it is clear that many of our low-income students will not be able to return to school. They won't be able to afford it. They won't be able to get what they need out of on-line teaching- which is mental, physical and intellectual space away from their families, and the community of the classroom. They will work for Amazon and some will die.

Simultaneously, I also think that many people paying high tuitions at elite schools will no longer be able to pay the same money to sit at home in their parents' kitchens and be online. They will come to CUNY on-line, to get the degree for less cost. So there may still be an enrollment at CUNY, eventually, once the shift occurs. But it will be a different kind of student.

WHAT IS THE FUTURE OF COLLEGE OF STATEN ISLAND?
If the epidemic ends, the post-hospital buildings will be a wreck. Even if the rest of CUNY goes back to classroom teaching, will we be able to?

Stay tuned.

No crisis goes unexploited.

This crisis is being used to erode our powers, in Wisconsin, where the supreme court rules voting had to continue despite the health risks.

With a mass pandemic, they want to turn down turnout.

Tim Murphy writes:

“This terrifies me. I was on a Zoom thing tonight with a national progressive group that wanted to keep the call off the record and the general mood was one of dejection, as many pointed out that with 1/4 of all federal court seats now held by Trump appointees, and with SCOTUS leaning firmly 5-4 to the right, all the disputes that inevitably will come up around administering elections amid COVID-19 will go to the courts (such as what just happened in Wisconsin), potentially up to SCOTUS, where we can likely expect a déja-vu of what happened in November of 2000. I BEG people to not become completely obsessed with the presidential election, or even the U.S. Congress races, and put some attention/money/time/whatever you can behind state-level races. If you live in a state with decent laws, it already is, and likely will become more so, all that stands between you and a post-democracy federal government come November.”

In between other things, my readings groups, I joined a new virtual read along called,

#ReadingToldstoryTogether.

“But why War and Peace, and why now? Well for one, it's a damn good book (in this critic's opinion), but as Li more eloquently puts it: "In these times, one does want to read an author who is so deeply moved by the world that he could appear unmoved in his writing."

And so it begins:

“Well, Prince, so Genoa and Lucca are now just family estates of the Buonapartes. But I warn you, if you don’t tell me that this means war, if you still try to defend the infamies and horrors perpetrated by that Antichrist—I really believe he is Antichrist—I will have nothing more to do with you and you are no longer my friend, no longer my ‘faithful slave,’ as you call yourself! But how do you do? I see I have frightened you—sit down and tell me all the news.”

Sit down and tell me the news, we ask each other.

“[G]ive War and Peace a go. For one thing, you likely have the time, no matter how slow you think you might read! For another, there's nothing like working through a difficult, amusing, beautiful text with a group of similarly passionate readers. "Let's go — slowly, without rushes, without impatience, without fatigue, without weakness," urges Li. Isn't it funny how that works out — it's good advice for reading, but for navigating these hard times, too.”

The little one and I read a dozen pages or so a day, some days more, some less, laughing at the dinner parties, debates about politics which feel new, looking at our history of war and peace, hoping for more of the latter, seeing more of the former.

Wednesday, we all participated in a zoom call for Passover,

Chatting with family from Miami to London, upstate to Brooklyn,

Recalling simpler Passovers, offering toasts to the dead, laughing and alive.

It’s a warning to us all, says Caroline.

Mother earth saying fuck you.

A Passover Haggadah on the earth.

““If climate change is the great test of civilization in the 21st century, COVID-19 is a pop quiz,” said Rabbi Daniel Swartz of Temple Hesed, a Reform synagogue in Scranton, Pennsylvania. “It’s showing us some of the problems humanity has in dealing with long-term, big, international issues.”

Bernie left the campaign.

Monica Hunken says it, we can be our own heroes. No gods no masters.

 “This really hurts...When we needed someone like him most of all, we must again and always, remember we need ourselves. This is a time to step up. Take care of yourself and get your home and life in order, and also start to prepare, strategize, connect, learn, build your skills. Get ready to take action.”

I posted a note on facebook.
“Thanks for changing the conversation, winning the battle of ideas. I agree with almost all his positions, except on guns. As a Southerner, i always had feeling there were not going to be enough votes for him. "“He was never able to expand his coalition,” Mark Longabaugh, a top adviser who split with the campaign early last year, told BuzzFeed News last month. “He just didn’t succeed at it.” Its a good move. Win the battle of ideas and take away the internal fight. Thanks for all you did and do Bernie.”

The odd part about it all was the contradiction that Barbara Ransbury identified.

we also need 2 name the inability of Bernie 2 fully address concerns of Black people & systemic racism in a way that would bring our ppl into the fold in large enough numbers. At the same time his platform would have improved black lives considerably. Now?

And COVID raged, changing our lives, Nora posted:

Things I miss: swimming, theater, teaching in person, when everyone knew

@NYGovCuomo was a corrupt fake progressive, restaurants, the movies, students,

@InterferenceArc, hugs,@CityTechLibrary

, all libraries, library books, protests, liking grocery shopping, my mom, and bars.

All day at home, luckily we have them.

As my favorite meme says first time in history we can save the world by staying home and watching tv. Lets not fuck this one up.

My friend Emily summed up what its like.

Today I celebrate 32 days of sheltering in place! 🎉💩💩

Oh the times I've had! I laughed, I cried, I had a few anxiety attacks …

I've talked to my cat. I've talked to inanimate objects (who can forget Mr. Blueberry?)

I've disinfected most things in my apartment, and was so overzealous with a Lysol wipe that I ruined my computer keyboard. Yay for hanging onto old equipment as a backup! I'm also down to my last 2 Lysol wipes, so that’s unlikely to happen again.

Most of my local stores have installed plexiglass shields at the check-out, which I appreciate not only as a customer, but also for the employees that are being protected. I wear gloves and mask everywhere I go (though I don’t go many places) and have a protocol for when I re-enter my apartment – remove gloves, coat, shoes, wash hands, remove mask. But walks are still nice and trees are blooming. Did you see those turtles I posted the other day? I’m going to make the turtles a regular walk destination.

I've had days when I could hear non-stop sirens all day, and it was breaking my heart. Thankfully my neighborhood has been more quiet lately, but still not quiet (I even hear some sirens as I type). What's the siren situation in your neighborhood?

I've watched neighbors from my window doing their daily meditations in the backyard, doing squat jumps, calisthenics, building things. I've heard their disembodied voices on video hangouts through the walls, and hear them blasting Tina Turner, which makes me smile and sing along. I saw a random tuba player from my window walking down 4th ave the other night. I’m really into how some folks are getting weird right now. Yay for weirdos.…

I know Cuomo is no Prince Charming, but today’s briefing made me cry. He was answering a question about the statistical models and how we are falling way below the projected need of hospital beds. Did NY overreact? To paraphrase, he said that statisticians did not know how people would respond to this, and that the experts underestimated what actions New Yorkers would take, how much we care about each other. We’re flattening the curve much more than any of the models anticipated. But we still have to keep doing it, so that there isn’t a second and third wave of infections and deaths. I know current rates don’t take into account people who have died at home, or cases that were not tested and confirmed, but the projections show that things could have been much much MUCH worse, and we’re still not through it yet. Keep doing everything you need to do to stay safe and don’t get complacent!!

I hope you're all managing as best you can. Wishing you and your community health, safety, and resilience. We still have a ways to go. ❤️

With countless hours at home, in between work and kids, many of us have felt old worries bubble to the surface, old thoughts, strange dreams, which become present.

I knew Louis Colombo two decades ago.

We hung out and organized.

And he left town.

A few days ago, he wrote:

“Most people who know me know that my body doesn't make red blood cells (thanks thalassemia major) and know that I lost my sister my senior year in high school to complications resulting from the illness (she had it too). I'm not good with dates, but I remember the feeling when my friend came into our English class to summon me to the office. Lori had been in the hospital, and although my friend didn't say (I don't think she knew what had happened, only that I was to go to the office), I immediately knew. It was the fall, the beginning of the school year. I've forgotten most of it, and I won't retell all of it here, only that I spent a long time not dealing with the trauma.

Not dealing with the trauma because I didn't really know what dealing with the trauma meant (I still don't, really), didn't know how to deal with it (I still don't, really), and didn't want to because all I had to hold on to was the pain, and if I let that go, then what? So I didn't. Then too, it was suddenly only my mom and I and she was grieving too. I didn't want to add to that, so I do what I do. I buried it. Went skateboarding. Drove too fast. Listened to music. Threw myself into school. Went skateboarding some more.

I probably spent at least the next four years that way, and I know I hurt people along the way. People who stuck by me, even as I tried to push them away. Yes, it's cliche, but it's another cliche that all cliches are grounded in a truth somewhere, and this is the most basic of them all, but getting hurt once, I didn't want to go through it again, so much better to push people away when things got to close, which was a pretty good pattern of my relationships for the next good period of my life. I'm grateful that those people, and I trust they know who they are, are still a part of my life today. That's grace.

But you tell yourself you're fine when you're broken and you go on, and you forget that you're broken and you think that broken is fine, and so there you go, not dealing with your broken self because, as you've said, you're fine. So I was fine.

And I was fine when I went to the hospital and received the wrong type of blood and almost died (not recommended) and I was fine when I moved to NYC and was alone and lonely (yes old lady calling through my window at midnight, both of those), and I was fine up until the day I was diagnosed with Hep C and felt all my fineness come crashing down in what I heard as nothing more than "you're going to die." That's a longer story that involves a handful of liver biopsies (like getting harpooned) and some slight miracle of "your body cleared it all on its own," but in the middle of that was everything coming together - the all of it - and me spending a summer in NYC more or less having a nervous breakdown (I guess), drinking endless pots of coffee to extend the time I had left, coming home to my apartment and sitting in my kitchen with a steak knife in my hand (being a vegetarian the steak knife was useful; coming from a family of butchers, it was my birthright) feeling that I couldn't take it anymore, the burden of going on only to be done in by something stupid that I couldn't control, all of it, and Lori, thinking why not just get it over with and have some peace. So there I was.

Luckily, I'm naturally a coward and not really a fan of pain, so I hesitated, and thought, "well, I got through today, let's see what tomorrow brings, and if I can't take it then, this knife will be here." And so I ended the night with the knife back in the drawer, and met the next day, not much better, but willing to give it another go. It would be embarrassing to say how many nights in a row I repeated this - it feels like a lot, but then, I don't really know - but eventually, I forced myself to make a choice, to live or to die, to kill myself or not, but at least to decide and quit the charade. Well, you can guess which way that went, and so I put away the knife, and thought that was that, only the pain is still there and never really goes away, all the way away, and well, I don't know really what to say about that, except that Hegel is wrong.

But yesterday was a hard day. Grey skies and all the heaviness of the corona virus and just the feeling of loss in the air, driving home trying not to cry because that would probably make seeing the road hard, feeling lots of those old feelings welling up again - they don't really go away - getting home and the voice of an old friend on the phone as I'm sitting in the driveway.

Everything is not all better, and I don't believe it ever will be, but there's a lot to live for, to keep pushing for, and I woke up this morning and the sun was out, and I remember those days and what I learned - if I got through this day, I can get through the next, and the sunrise is nothing if not another name for hope.

I think about that as we're living through mass death, the pain and suffering will be real, and it will last for those who live through it, and I understand the weight of being overwhelmed, just as I understand the anger at hearing that everything will be okay. Everything will be different, and if you love and loved, you will hurt, but if you've loved then you have hoped for the future that is still not yet, and that is something to hold on to, especially when the clouds are gray. It's too triumphant to say that there will be a sunrise, but I haven't lost yet by betting that there will be.”

I knew Louis all those years. But never talked about this.  I’m glad almost twenty years later to understand more.  It’s a horror but its also a beautiful narrative, he opened up for us all to contemplate.

Everyone is going through it.

Everyone.

““You may not control all the events that happen to you, but you can decide not to be reduced by them,” says Maya Angelou.

“The world breaks everyone and afterward many are strong at the broken places.”

Hemingway, a Farewell to Arms

We are all at broken places.