Thanksgiving is here, but seeing it creep up on the calendar—with more December holidays coming fast behind it—is a little unnerving because for eight months now, the Bay area has lived under the dark shadow of coronavirus.
In March, it was new, unknown and scary. Today, with a gazillion more news cycles under our belts, COVID-19 is a familiar bedfellow that not enough people seem to respect. It asks us to wear our masks, sanitize our hands and keep a six-foot distance between our neighbors. It kept us company during an insane presidential election. It’s confined us to our homes, and it’s made simple human contact more of a valuable currency—and calculated risk—than ever before.
All of our new habits have left us with what the media calls COVID-19 fatigue. And yeah, we’re all even more beat down than we ever imagined we could be. But maybe we’re only tired because we haven’t given up. Most of us reading this are lucky enough to go to a bed at night exhausted but with just enough energy to think about the challenges that we’ll face—successfully and unsuccessfully—the next day. There are pithy quotes and inspirational Instagram messages about being a fighter, and getting through the dark just to get to the light, but in reality, all that huffing and puffing is a bunch of bullshit because, simply put—life is really hard right now.
So many of our neighbors are on the edge of catastrophic times. Hospitality friends risk their lives clocking in and serving countless patrons who may or may not know to tip like their own money is on fire. With moratoriums on evictions lifted, folks—from those on welfare all the way up to those whose lives were built on the boom of the pre-COVID days—are looking at dramatic changes in their housing situations. Anyone living with COVID-19 and its after effects is certainly feeling the strain, and our healthcare workers are still begging us to take the illness seriously. Even those who present like they’re doing OK could very well be on the brink of a bout of depression or severe anxiety.
The holidays won’t make coping with coronavirus any easier, but they are a reminder that for some of us, there’s always an opportunity to do more and create a community that is—at the very least—more kind.
I’m not talking about standing down to the COVID-19 truther uncle you don’t have to talk to this year. And I’m not certainly not suggesting being more tolerant of intolerance. I’m talking about doing just a little more to make somebody else’s day better. Whether it’s by giving away a jacket or helping a mutual aid organization, buying band merch, supporting local artisans, acknowledging the land or asking a local kitchen to cook for you on Thanksgiving, there are ways to share some of your good fortune—be it your health, wealth, wherewithal or happiness—with someone whose feet pound the same pavement yours do. This issue, in a very simple way, is an attempt to help us do just that.
CL’s been really lucky to have so far made it through what coronavirus has thrown its way in 2020, and we’re even luckier that you’re still here to help us along. Thank you. It’s been eight months since we’ve seen most of you in person, and we can’t wait to see you again, but we’ll happily wait until it’s safe to do so. In the meantime, we hope someone’s being kind to you, and that you’re getting a chance to return the favor.
(If you’re feeling lonely, in danger or just need a spot of help, professionals at the Crisis Center of Tampa Bay are ready to guide you to resources that you need. Visit crisiscenter.com or call 2-1-1 right away.)
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This article appears in Nov 19-25, 2020.