“Lessons from The Storm.” That was the improvised final writing assignment this semester for my Telling Social Justice Stories class, a course offered through Roosevelt University’s Honors Program. Amid the global pandemic, we were forced shortly after spring break from in-person classes to meeting on Zoom.
It seemed a relevant undertaking for students tasked mainly with writing about the world through the third-person objective observer lens. The assignment: Write a first-person essay on the impact of the pandemic upon their lives. Here are some of their reflections, which will be publicly podcasted soon:
Dylan Jeninga, a sophomore, writes, “There are invisible people, everyone knows that. They work hard to get us to notice them, but too often, we don’t. We walk by and hope they don’t talk to us.
“One such person lives, or did live, on the corner of Broadway and Granville, near my apartment. I don’t know her name. But she’s been there as long as I’ve lived in the neighborhood, wrapped in too many coats, selling Streetwise magazines.
“Once, when I worked at (a store) down the street, we got into a shouting match because she was spending too long in our bathroom, and my boss told me to kick her out. Ever since, I’ve avoided her. I walk right past without even looking at her.
“Of course, I haven’t done that much since the COVID-19 outbreak locked the city down. I’ve been sheltering in place... Even so, she’s been there, selling her magazines, her worldly belongings piled into a rusty cart behind her…
“.. .We may never know the full cost of the pandemic. But I do know that the woman has disappeared. ... All I can think about are all the times I walked by and tried not to look at her.”
Grace Koeppen, a sophomore integrated marketing communications major, writes: “It’s 7:30 a.m, and typically I’d be refreshed and ready to start my morning on campus. Instead I’m quarantined at home, groggy, with my laptop at my feet, holding 13 unread emails, four assignments due, and a Zoom meeting scheduled for two hours from now.
“This pandemic has misplaced me from everything that appeared normal … Working from home is hard.”
Daniel Itonyo, a senior economics major, writes: “To be honest, I’m not even sure what day it is. The coronavirus pandemic struck the world to a halt. ... The tragedy of this outbreak hits more closely when you realize that most of the deaths are within your community, the African American community.
“ … We all play a vital role, You and I, need to first of all acknowledge that it is easy to be ‘woke’ [or aware] but still fail to truly understand the urgency of the issues of racial disparity because we don’t live it and are blinded by our privileges.”
Lewis Rawlinson, a graduating musical arts major and cellist, writes, “New York City has begun mass burial for unaccounted for COVID-19 patients on Hart Island off the coast of the Bronx, the same site that was used to bury people who died of AIDS by the thousands. Those people also died alone in quarantine—one forged by stigma and bigotry.
“Those lost to the AIDS epidemic and those living with HIV today deserve respect and truth.
“During the early stages of their epidemic, there was no talk of flattening the curve. There was no emergency relief bill for resources and economic support. The government failed them and resulted in more graves that had to be dug, and it was because they were queer. That must never be forgotten.”
The same be said of the lessons from this storm. They must not be forgotten.
Email: Author@johnwfountain.com
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