Month: June 2020

Inexplicable, Not So

In my backyard, there is an onion grown over four foot high. We planted it last year, and it didn’t do much. It made it through our admittedly mild winter though, and in spring I wanted to see how it would fare if I let it go. It’s thriving.

My basil, on the other hand, not good. I tried some old seeds first. Not the tiniest break of soil. So I bit the bullet and bought a flat from a garden center I’d never been to before. The sprigs were happy when I brought them home, but the soil in the garden box doesn’t seem to be to their taste. Or maybe they aren’t getting enough sun. Or too much. Or too much water. Or not enough. Or they’re just stubborn, unwilling to raise themselves to the sun. Whatever the reason, they’re languishing, curling their leaves together like so many tongues.

Turns out, tongue rolling itself is as inexplicable as my basil. Myths and speculation as to why 60-80ish percent of humans can tongue roll and why the others can’t roll have circulated for ages: language acquisition, genes, the excessive brilliance of those of us who can, the discerning tastes or general indifference of those of you who can’t. For a long time, it was thought to be genetics, but now it’s known that genetics is, at best, only part of the answer. After all, plenty of identical twins can/can’t roll. A few determined folks have taught themselves to roll, but not many because, well, why bother?

What’s any of this got to do with COVID-19? Well, at times it seems to me inexplicable and random how this virus spreads, who gets it, how to deal with it, and now that things are opening up, where to go, where to avoid, what’s safe, what’s stupid.

But really, the virus isn’t as random as it seems, just as the reasons why my onion is skyrocketing and my basil is withering aren’t random. With some effort and a little more knowledge and method than I currently have, I could figure out why. And although scientists have been studying tongue rolling for a considerable time now without certainty of the cause, if they continue to study it, they’ll figure it out.

And when they do, the myths will still circulate.

So too with COVID-19. We already know some things about it. Scientists will continue to study it and learn more. Hopefully they’ll find treatments and vaccines in a shorter time than the tongue-rolling research has taken.

But when they do, the myths will still circulate.(STOP drinking bleach cocktails, folks. Try a nice greyhound or gin fizz, very refreshing, and did you hear the one about bat soup?)

Until then, stay safe. And grow.

–KLB

Today’s postings, selections from students in Anthony Comella’s Arts and Culture class at Atlantis Charter High School in Fall River, MA. Congratulations 2020 grads!

*For more info on tongue rolling, check out Claudia Hammond’s “BBC Future” blog post here:

https://www.bbc.com/future/article/20180130-do-you-inherit-the-ability-to-roll-your-tongue

Arts and Culture ACHS Style

 
I blame the Quarantine 
for long days and messed up sleep schedules
I’m blaming the Quarantine for the masks we have to wear
Hot and stuffy, 
It’s just another barrier between human connection
“It’s for our protection”
But still I blame the Quarantine 
For taking away our normal
Face to face has a whole other meaning,
Face screen face is our one way of convening
I blame the Quarantine 
For being trapped inside on sunny days
For separating us from friends
For making us question the little actions we took for granted
Once Upon A Time,
Prom and Graduation were guaranteed 
Pandemics and uncontrolled disease were left in the past
Too far to touch us 
I blame the Quarantine 
For bringing us to a new stage of life
One that is different,
Even good in some ways
I blame the Quarantine 
For showing the positives of social media,
For slowing life’s quick pace,
For giving us the opportunity and time to look deep within ourselves 
For allowing us (for once) to relax 
and to be able to breathe the day in
To spending time with family in ways we never would have before
To making us realize what’s important
And how to appreciate 
For all these things and many more,
I blame the Quarantine 

–Grace Kpor, Atlantis Charter High School Senior Grace Kpor

Twelve years of homework, twelve years of stress, twelve years of working so hard, all for the day I got to walk the stage with my closest friends. These last three months were supposed to be the best moments of my life. These months were the moments leading up to prom, senior week, graduation. And now all of that is gone. In three days, I have to go pick up a prom dress that I worked and saved money for, only to have it never be worn. My cap and gown will never leave my house. Twelve years of hard work and dedication, only to get the seat three months stripped away from us. The class of 2020 never really had it easy. We came into the world right around 9/11 and now we’re graduating in the midst of a global pandemic. The past twelve years have been vital to our lives. In these years we’ve learned, we’ve made friends, we’ve laughed, loved, and cried. We made relationships, some that only last a couple of years, and some that will last a lifetime. Many of the friendships made these past four years will certainly come to an end due to distance and separation. The whole point of senior week is to get in our last goodbyes, if we had known that our last day together was going to be our last day together, we could have made it worthwhile. After a long emotional time in our educational career, all our rights of passage are being taken away from us. All of this is out of our control, we can’t blame ourselves or anyone in particular. I blame the quarantine.

–Maggie D’Costa, Atlantis Charter High School Senior

  “I blame quarantine”. This is the most common sentence used right now, especially by myself. From my plans during the summer, to situations to do with school, or even just plans I made during the day, it’s all ruined and I blame quarantine. But, there is one thing that I have this specific sentence for, and that’s graduation. Graduation was supposed to be the most memorable part of your life but, class of 2020 doesn’t get to experience the real graduation experience and I blame quarantine. This means, no walking the stage, no getting our diploma handed to us, no senior cookout, no walking around the school like every senior class  got to, no senior activities, nothing but a virtual school year and possibly a virtual graduation ceremony. This is the saddest thing I’ve ever had to write about, not just for myself but for all of the class of 2020. Again, I blame quarantine for this and the loss of all the other good things we were going to experience. I’ve said the same sentence 3 times so far, imagine how many times I say it in a day. Quarantine has taken away many things including graduation. Some things I lost during this time that I blame quarantine for were my birthday ideas, my graduation party, a concert I was so excited to go to, family events such as my cousin’s baby shower, family cookouts on nice days, anything fun and memorable was taken from me and from us. This wasn’t our fault though, I blame quarantine.

–Jocelyn Sullivan, Atlantis Charter High School Senior

Melanie thought her sleep schedule was screwed up before, but damn was she in for a wild ride. Spending almost two months straight at home during her senior year of high school has made her think of a lot of things and realize a lot of things. She spends each day just laying on her bed either on her phone on Tik Tok or playing Animal Crossing on her switch lite, and with each day that goes by there is always that small moment before she goes to sleep at four a.m. that she starts overthinking everything and coming to realizations. She realizes that quarantine is basically a free trial into the transition from high school social life to college social life. It has made her realize that the people she isn’t talking to during quarantine are basically the people that she will lose contact in college. She thinks about all of her teachers that she has been ignoring emails from, and all of the friends she would talk to in class and begins to cry. She realizes her senior year is over and that she does not get to have a final good-bye to anyone from her high school that she would share laughs with on the daily. As she gets comfortable underneath her blanket to drift off into sleep as the sun rises, her mind still floods with memories from high school that were cut short. A tear glides down her cheeks as she thinks I blame the quarantine.

–Misha Medeiros, Atlantis Charter High School Senior

As time goes by things have only been becoming direr, at the beginning of the virus’s appearance, life proceeded as normal but within a few months, everything changed so quickly. Week after week the news is consistently filled with information that is worse than the last and cancellations, whether it’s trips, school, workplaces, are only becoming more common. It is implored for people to stay home and practice social distancing and it is evident that it is for the best. In a time like this, it’s important to remember to take time for yourself and to just relax and listen to music or watch a movie with no disruptions. But for many social distancing is now being done from a distance as well. With all of the changes occurring all at once and abruptly, it can be difficult to keep up, managing your time and rearranging schedules is not always something that can be figured out in a day. This is resulting in more stress and work than is manageable, to balance things out time is being taken away from things, from people, who bring a sense of normality to life, who keep you sane when you’re surrounded by insanity. To make things even more confusing, people are being taken out of work only for states to reopen back up within a month to ‘help the economy’; which is not worth jeopardizing safety. Nonetheless, complications are only continuing to rise and seemingly, connections are falling. I blame the Quarantine. As a community we are supposed to be cautiously containing ourselves during this fragile moment in history, but these contradictions are arising and endangering more people, doing more harm than good. I blame the Quarantine.

–Jada Barboza, Atlantis Charter High School Junior

Roar. Dance.

I first heard about Covid-19 on February 4th. I know this precise date because Paul and I were headed to Boston to celebrate our anniversary a few days later, and the news that a new virus originating in China had reached Boston gave us pause.

“Should we go?” Paul and I asked each other at different moments, but neither of us seriously contemplated not going. On February 7th, our wedding anniversary day, there were only 12 confirmed cases of Covid-19 in the U.S. and only the first in Mass., not even in Boston. Of course we went.

Our hotel was only a few blocks from Chinatown, whose restaurants we love, and it was Lunar New Year, the biggest event in Chinatown, complete with a parade, featuring lion dancers. I can’t tell you how much I love a lion dance, the giant faces and colorful sinewy bodies shimmying to crashing music. If you ever get the chance to go to a Lunar New Year celebration, take it.

But this year, with the virus headlining news reports, we decided to be cautious and skip the parade, which went on as usual albeit to a nervous crowd. We felt awful missing out and learned plenty of others were doing the same, skipping the events in Chinatown this year. We worried that the Asian community was losing so much business, but still, we were cautious.

We imagined, and worried, that there would be racist backlash against Asians, especially because we have two nieces of Chinese descent. Of course, our worries weren’t misplaced. The top-down, presidential-driven racism was both shocking and predictable.

What we could not imagine then was just how much would shift in our society in a matter of weeks. Let me say this again:

We could not imagine it.

Not just Paul and I, but even the most dystopic visionaries among us never really thought the world would – could – be shut down as it has been. No way all restaurants are closing. No way they’re going to shut down schools for months. No way companies are going find ways for their employees to work at home. No way everyone’s going to wear face masks to protect the people they encounter. No way there will be food shortages. No way will an entire world (almost, Sweden and Montana) will stay at home. No way . . . no way . . . no way. . .

Way.

Plenty of awful things have come from this shut down, but one thing may actually serve us well at this moment of righteous civil unrest. Before Covid-19, we couldn’t imagine our structures crumbling.

But we can now.

We can imagine it.

And to quote the Bionic Woman, we can rebuild her.

Because of Covid-19, we can imagine the dismantling of key structures in our society. And we can now imagine new normals, new ways to rebuild our structures that may be uncomfortable initially but will ultimately serve us better: structures like our police systems – not just departments, but systems — “correctional” facilities, laws, community involvement, economic allocation, etc.

We can imagine it. We can rebuild it.

I blame the quarantine. Thank you quarantine.

–KLB

https://www.boston-discovery-guide.com/chinese-new-year-parade.html

https://www.theguardian.com/us-news/2020/jun/08/minneapolis-city-council-police-department-dismantle

Hopeless & Grateful

It’s a surreal time right now—and I blame the quarantine. People all over the world are staying at home, not knowing what tomorrow will bring. The coronavirus has changed the world—and it has changed my perspective on many things. It’s not easy to think straight when the “storm” has just begun. Words like total lockdown, death, pandemic, etc. are suddenly part of our everyday lives—and nobody really knows for how long. One thing I quickly realized is how fortunate we all are to consider “going to school,” “going to work,” or “going to the movies” as the most normal thing in life. 

As of right now, I’m practicing social distancing with one roll of toilet paper left in my bathroom. But instead of panicking, I’m trying to make sense of what’s happening—but to be honest—it’s difficult. It’s difficult to see people hoarding food and essentials, while the elderly are left behind. It’s difficult to see politicians use the global virus to promote hate, racism, and selfishness. It’s difficult to hear people still call it a “hoax”. It’s difficult to watch young adults disobey the rules to STAY AT HOME in order to flatten the curve. 

There are so many things that make me sad right now. I’m sad because I feel helpless. I feel helpless because I don’t know when I’ll be able to work again. I feel helpless because I don’t know when I’ll see my friends and family again. I feel helpless because I don’t know how to pay my bills—just like millions everywhere. 

But at the same time, I feel grateful. Grateful for our planet forcing us to be good. Fewer airplanes, fewer cars, fewer people running around. We’re doing ourselves and future generations a favor by sitting on our couches. Being able to slow down is actually a gift. I’ve never appreciated nature more. Birds chirping, quiet streets—suddenly, I’m looking at everything and everyone differently. But most importantly, I feel grateful for all the scientists, doctors, nurses, delivery drivers, and grocery workers. They are the most selfless and brave, trying to fight against this powerful disease.

–Natascha Wittmann, journalism student at UCLA

Fickle

I blame it on the quarantine
Not to severe
But all of a sudden it is
Standing 
Watching
Open mouthed
Ready to deprive us 
Of school
Work
Businesses 
People
Stay at home orders
Separating us 
Causing worry
Social distancing 
The new life
Governors
Mask the truth
Massive decisions 
Need to be made
School work piling up
A website is all
To fill the void 
47 million is the projected total
Layoffs
Unemployment
Furloughs
Fired 
Stock market crashing 
Ever slowly
From rich to bankrupt
Many people suffer 
Many people die
However fickle Covid-19 is
I blame it on the quarantine
 

–Marita Frietsch, “To Me.”

Cut, Scar.

*Note, the following post includes descriptions of self harm.

The pressure of the scissors relieves the inner turmoil, the blood makes a hypnotic pattern down my arm. Never deep enough to scar physically, always deep enough to scar emotionally.

     The inner turmoil and worry creeps into my mind again, the voice whispers how useless I am. The tools I’ve worked so hard to learn, the effort I’ve made to “find my center, find my calm”, they’ve all been put to the test.

     I have been put to the test again and again. Like a sand castle resisting the pressure of the tide I begin to crumble.

     I look at the world and can’t help but see the school kids stuck at home with abusive caregivers, the children who have nothing to eat because their caregivers can’t afford food and they can’t get fed at school. The individuals being told they cannot spend time with loved ones who are dying. The individuals whose livelihood depends on making sales, on having folks walking into a store, what will happen to them all? How can we expect to recover from this? 

    The suffering is too great, the empathy too aware, how do I turn this off? I can’t resist any longer. The pressure builds, the sandcastle gives way, a rush of water recedes and what is left?

     The pressure of the scissors, the hypnotic pattern of the blood. The immense guilt that I fell again. Day forty five clean from self harm becomes day zero. Tomorrow the tally marks begin again. 

     Day one free from self harm. I blame the quarantine.

—Moonlight Joy

Shattered

One of the reasons I selected the phrase I blame the quarantine for this project is that the quarantine is what fiction writers call a crucible, any external circumstance that heightens tension.

Time is often a crucible: 24 hours before the asteroid hits our planet; we have to build the asteroid destroyer FAST!

Setting is one too: A soon-to-be divorced couple gets stuck in an elevator between floors on the way to the lawyers’ office. “Why do you always have to push the button twice, always, always, always. Push, push, push. Well, you pushed me, didn’t you? Now look at us!”

Crucibles contain and tighten, things bubble and simmer, steam and stoke until BOOM! Shatter from the tension.

I don’t blame the quarantine for our country’s current shattering. A crucible takes time to build, and what’s happening now has been a long time coming, a long time contained — cities, civilization, citizens — smoldering, smoking, gasping for breath.

Gasping.

I wish peace to the families of those suffering under this new crisis. There will be many suffering. I weep for you and wish you well.

Here are some stories.

–KLB

Wind

Reduction. Nature is nothing more than one thing eating another. We got in trouble when we started to think of ourselves as something apart.

But then things like tornadoes remind us that nature is also physics, forces and vectors of rolling winds that scrape the earth. Elements at play, distant and without ego.

We had forty seconds before the tornado hit. Forty seconds to grab the children and the dog and worry about where the cat might be. Forty seconds to go downstairs to the first floor and turn the old glass knob as the howls grew, to push it down hard because the knob sticks and the door sticks. Forty seconds until our feet hit the first basement tread and we clutched the old cedar posts and the roof above was peeled away.

The next day was one of those improbably beautiful spring days. Pink tulip magnolias against the cerulean sky, with flecks of yellow insulation. Beauty follows tragedy, like after the last tornado. Like after the flood. 

She coughed a lot as the insult of spring allergies rode in behind the winds. We chalked it up to rubble dust and pollen. Then the fever came and her breath went, her mouth moving like a carp gasping on the aluminum of our old canoe, the canoe we paddled through cypress glades, a fishing line drifting behind, the lure twisting in the slow wake. 

I imagine beeps fill the air and hard plastic fills her throat, and her mouth gapes and panic fills her eyes. But I’m not allowed to hold her and I can’t see her face and I know she is dying without me. Who blames a virus? That’s just nature. This time I can’t find the beauty and for that I blame the quarantine.

–Jim Myers, Nashville, TN, “Nashville’s been dealing with the double hit of the tornado on March 3 and then the virus and the economy crash. I’m afraid we haven’t seen bottom yet. Thankfully love still abounds.”

The Other Shore

I blame it on the quarantine.It’s become part of what gets me to the bare crammed room. Every morning and evening, peeking out. Tiny yellow lights across back alley. Slight testimony of movement.

                                                ‘Did you notice that the kitchen across the way is more spacious than ours?’ I asked my partner who didn’t reply. She’s more like my mother, who doesn’t ask questions.

I feel a ghost line with that other square across the way, like it’s the only access I have to life outside. A life that doesn’t belong to me. I’m trying not to watch explicitly. A non-direct gaze in case they are looking my way.

                                               Sometimes, I wonder if they notice the small irregularities of a stranger’s daily routine. My first attempt at an online Zumba class, flopping up and down on carpet. The amount of time I’m keeping here, staring at the surface of my laptop. Watching for illicit lovers sneaking past quarantine lines. I spend most of my time in a curled position, hunched over keyboard, staring up two monitors, squinting into setting light.

I wish we were friends. The woman in outline carrying a struggling baby, the man in view chopping. In another dream, we copy the Italian neighbors throwing windows open, singing for their healthcare workers, first responders, virus dispatchers. Pots and pans blasting. In this one, no one has turned on the light last night or this morning.

                                                        Yesterday, in a Zoom meditation, our bell master showed us one of the Thich Nhat Hanh’s calligraphy poems.“The Insight That Brings Us to the Other Shore.” I am waiting out the window, watching for a glimpse of another’s breath, another tiny shore.

Tonight, I’ll hope for the small light opening out of the corner of my eye. A hello.

–Ching-In Chen, Seattle, WA

What Stays

“Stay home for Nevada”. That has been our mantra for weeks now. So many new words and phrases have become part of our daily dialogue: COVID-19, Coronavirus, social distancing, panic buying, flatten the curve, shelter in place, fear, blame, PPE, shortages, need, scarcity. These words and phrases are all part of the new social discourse, the new normal.

In Las Vegas, once the party capitol of the world, our lavish casinos, hotels, shows, and restaurants sit alone, dark, empty, and hopeful for the return of our tourists and the workers who will serve them. People languish in homes waiting impatiently on food, alcohol, or weed delivery. Waiting for things to distract us from the end, the apocalypse. It looks like the world will go out with a whimper rather than a bang after all. This is the new normal.

These thoughts swirl through my mind as I go about my day, working from home, trying to fight the guilt I harbor. As a fat, middle age, female introvert, I am enjoying working from home and having an excuse to stay in and relax on the weekends. I have been released from having to try to live up to society’s expectations for what I should look like and it is Heaven. I have traded business casual for t-shits and leggings. I shower at night and just roll out of bed, with my hair sticking up everywhere, I have coffee, and then I log in for work. I have not tweezed my eyebrows in forever, my hair has sliver strands throughout, and my legs are starting to look like the desert cacti. It is wonderful! I have become a feral creature. I do not think it is possible to reintegrate into society. This is my new normal. I blame the quarantine.

–Kristen Johnson