Keep the streets empty for me
Mar. 22nd, 2020 10:39 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
dolorosa_12Since my last post, things have happened very quickly.
As of Monday, we started preparing in earnest for working from home. The university as a whole was still putting out vague statements saying only that senior leadership was meeting twice a day and monitoring the situation, but the unique circumstances of my library were such that it was decided we should work from home. On Tuesday we spent most of the time in meetings planning this and testing the software and laptops we'd been using, and by the end of the day we'd packed up and gone home. The one thing I'm not particularly happy about is that the NHS has requested that the library be left open, but unstaffed, so that NHS staff can use it. Without any library staff there, nothing will be monitored, and although I trust the NHS staff to follow proper public health advice, the library building is on a hospital site open to the public, and to be honest anyone could wander in. I'd be furious if our library space inadvertently contributed to the spread of the virus.
In any case, we've been working from home as of Wednesday, and for the most part it's gone well. Some colleagues had frustrations accessing webmail, but that seems to be an ISP problem rather than a problem with overload on the webmail itself, as I've had no trouble at all, and neither have other colleagues. I've delivered two classes online using Google Meet, which went well (weird lag, periods of silence, and people talking over one another aside). I'm completely in awe of my students, who are coping with an incredibly stressful situation, and are still volunteering to help in whatever way they can. The medical students I've spoken to have said they're going to work with the NHS to treat patients, even though they haven't completed their training (obviously untrained doctors are not being sent in, but I assume they can be used in some ways), and healthcare professionals who work in other departments/fields have stepped up to work in critical care.
I am extremely fortunate that I work in a field which enables me to work from home, where the majority of my job can be done from home with some modifications, and for an employer who is in any case paying all of us whether we are able to do our jobs or not. My manager made it extremely clear to everyone that we will be paid as if we are working, whether we get sick with the virus, have to care for family members who get sick, have childrearing duties now that the schools have been closed, or are unable to do our normal work due to technological problems or lack of access to our regular office space. Matthias is in the same boat. I cannot imagine the stress of going through a global pandemic while also worrying about being made unemployed or losing your small business. I've been getting heartbreaking updates on social media from all the fantastic cafes, bars and restaurants that I love, and I'm very worried about all their employees. On Friday the government announced some measures to compensate workers and business owners who've had to shut down or partially close due to the pandemic, but it does not go far enough, it does not cover people who were fired prior to the announcement, and there's nothing for contractors or self-employed people.
At the moment, we're in a sort of weird state of semi-lockdown. Schools are closed. Entertainment and sporting venues are closed. Restaurants, bars and cafes are takeaway/delivery only. The streets are fairly empty, although you still get absolute fools who aren't taking things seriously, treating the whole thing like a holiday and decamping to Snowdonia, the Scottish highlands, seaside towns, and other remote areas, which will put a huge strain on those places' thinly stretched healthcare services. People are still panic-buying and hoarding, and although I find that to be despicable behaviour, I also understand it: nobody trusts the government to keep us fed.
I've been trying to keep some semblance of normality, taking each day at a time and focusing on the logistics of working from home, reaching out over social media and so on. Last night I hosted a Eurovision party on Facebook, where any friends who wanted to listen through to all the songs (which would have been performed at this year's contest) could do so, and post comments and reactions on my top-level post. We had people joining the party from the UK, Germany, Austria and the Netherlands, with some later input from Australians and Swedes. I guess for me the need to socialise mainly online isn't such a hardship: at least a third of my friendship group has been internet people for more than a decade, and I've been a migrant for the past eleven years so am very used to keeping in touch with family via Skype, FaceTime and so on. I think it would be a lot harder if I was living alone, and if I didn't have our courtyard as a space to go out into the open air.
But even so, I've had some dark moments. On Friday I broke down into a sobbing mess, overwhelmed by the idea that I might never see my mother again, that when I hugged her goodbye last June it might have been for the last time, and that I wouldn't even be able to hug and comfort my younger sister, should this happen. Illogical, but the anxiety brain leaps to the worst conclusions in a single bound, every time. And last night I had another panic attack when looking graphs showing that the UK is following an identical pattern to Italy, just two weeks later, with political leadership whose reaction has been, up until now, a shrug and 'maybe eugenics isn't such a bad idea?' I've been overwhelmed with grief thinking about the brave, exhausted NHS workers, about supermarket workers and delivery drivers struggling to keep up with the panic and subject to screaming abuse from angry, frightened customers, about people rendered unemployed and with no options. There are people doing a lot of individual and collective good right now, and I believe this crisis will show the best of the human spirit, but I also believe it will show the utter depths of depravity, and how hollow the promise of unfettered, individualistic libertarian capitalism is to deal with what is a global, community problem which requires a global, community response.
All I can say is, reach out online however you can. Raise spirits however you can. But allow yourself to feel whatever you are feeling.
I will leave you with some links to happy and amusing ways people are dealing with the crisis. I've been most moved by images and videos of city-dwellers socialising with each other from their individual apartment balconies or open windows. Urban life is not alienating: those of us who live in cities do have a sense of community, and it is coming through beautifully right now.
Scenes of people on balconies from around the world
Finns dance to 'Sandstorm' by Darude from their balconies, open windows, and back gardens
A man in Toulouse runs a marathon on his seven-metre balcony
Sports commentator with no sport on which to comment provides commentary for scenes of ordinary life
If any of you have similar links, share them in the comments and I will add them to the post. Much love to you all.
As of Monday, we started preparing in earnest for working from home. The university as a whole was still putting out vague statements saying only that senior leadership was meeting twice a day and monitoring the situation, but the unique circumstances of my library were such that it was decided we should work from home. On Tuesday we spent most of the time in meetings planning this and testing the software and laptops we'd been using, and by the end of the day we'd packed up and gone home. The one thing I'm not particularly happy about is that the NHS has requested that the library be left open, but unstaffed, so that NHS staff can use it. Without any library staff there, nothing will be monitored, and although I trust the NHS staff to follow proper public health advice, the library building is on a hospital site open to the public, and to be honest anyone could wander in. I'd be furious if our library space inadvertently contributed to the spread of the virus.
In any case, we've been working from home as of Wednesday, and for the most part it's gone well. Some colleagues had frustrations accessing webmail, but that seems to be an ISP problem rather than a problem with overload on the webmail itself, as I've had no trouble at all, and neither have other colleagues. I've delivered two classes online using Google Meet, which went well (weird lag, periods of silence, and people talking over one another aside). I'm completely in awe of my students, who are coping with an incredibly stressful situation, and are still volunteering to help in whatever way they can. The medical students I've spoken to have said they're going to work with the NHS to treat patients, even though they haven't completed their training (obviously untrained doctors are not being sent in, but I assume they can be used in some ways), and healthcare professionals who work in other departments/fields have stepped up to work in critical care.
I am extremely fortunate that I work in a field which enables me to work from home, where the majority of my job can be done from home with some modifications, and for an employer who is in any case paying all of us whether we are able to do our jobs or not. My manager made it extremely clear to everyone that we will be paid as if we are working, whether we get sick with the virus, have to care for family members who get sick, have childrearing duties now that the schools have been closed, or are unable to do our normal work due to technological problems or lack of access to our regular office space. Matthias is in the same boat. I cannot imagine the stress of going through a global pandemic while also worrying about being made unemployed or losing your small business. I've been getting heartbreaking updates on social media from all the fantastic cafes, bars and restaurants that I love, and I'm very worried about all their employees. On Friday the government announced some measures to compensate workers and business owners who've had to shut down or partially close due to the pandemic, but it does not go far enough, it does not cover people who were fired prior to the announcement, and there's nothing for contractors or self-employed people.
At the moment, we're in a sort of weird state of semi-lockdown. Schools are closed. Entertainment and sporting venues are closed. Restaurants, bars and cafes are takeaway/delivery only. The streets are fairly empty, although you still get absolute fools who aren't taking things seriously, treating the whole thing like a holiday and decamping to Snowdonia, the Scottish highlands, seaside towns, and other remote areas, which will put a huge strain on those places' thinly stretched healthcare services. People are still panic-buying and hoarding, and although I find that to be despicable behaviour, I also understand it: nobody trusts the government to keep us fed.
I've been trying to keep some semblance of normality, taking each day at a time and focusing on the logistics of working from home, reaching out over social media and so on. Last night I hosted a Eurovision party on Facebook, where any friends who wanted to listen through to all the songs (which would have been performed at this year's contest) could do so, and post comments and reactions on my top-level post. We had people joining the party from the UK, Germany, Austria and the Netherlands, with some later input from Australians and Swedes. I guess for me the need to socialise mainly online isn't such a hardship: at least a third of my friendship group has been internet people for more than a decade, and I've been a migrant for the past eleven years so am very used to keeping in touch with family via Skype, FaceTime and so on. I think it would be a lot harder if I was living alone, and if I didn't have our courtyard as a space to go out into the open air.
But even so, I've had some dark moments. On Friday I broke down into a sobbing mess, overwhelmed by the idea that I might never see my mother again, that when I hugged her goodbye last June it might have been for the last time, and that I wouldn't even be able to hug and comfort my younger sister, should this happen. Illogical, but the anxiety brain leaps to the worst conclusions in a single bound, every time. And last night I had another panic attack when looking graphs showing that the UK is following an identical pattern to Italy, just two weeks later, with political leadership whose reaction has been, up until now, a shrug and 'maybe eugenics isn't such a bad idea?' I've been overwhelmed with grief thinking about the brave, exhausted NHS workers, about supermarket workers and delivery drivers struggling to keep up with the panic and subject to screaming abuse from angry, frightened customers, about people rendered unemployed and with no options. There are people doing a lot of individual and collective good right now, and I believe this crisis will show the best of the human spirit, but I also believe it will show the utter depths of depravity, and how hollow the promise of unfettered, individualistic libertarian capitalism is to deal with what is a global, community problem which requires a global, community response.
All I can say is, reach out online however you can. Raise spirits however you can. But allow yourself to feel whatever you are feeling.
I will leave you with some links to happy and amusing ways people are dealing with the crisis. I've been most moved by images and videos of city-dwellers socialising with each other from their individual apartment balconies or open windows. Urban life is not alienating: those of us who live in cities do have a sense of community, and it is coming through beautifully right now.
Scenes of people on balconies from around the world
Finns dance to 'Sandstorm' by Darude from their balconies, open windows, and back gardens
A man in Toulouse runs a marathon on his seven-metre balcony
Sports commentator with no sport on which to comment provides commentary for scenes of ordinary life
If any of you have similar links, share them in the comments and I will add them to the post. Much love to you all.
no subject
Date: 2020-03-22 11:38 am (UTC)anxiety right now is such a normal, expected way to responding to the situation; it's just that the situation keeps changing and bombarding us with MORE anxiety, most of it situated somewhere in the future of the worst-case scenarios, where it can't be reasoned with or breathed through. it's sort of a very concentrated marathon on pulling this future-anxiety into here-and-now and grounding yourself (via breathing, exercise, art etc...). we all are going to need a lot of time to adjust to this amount of scary stimuli.
this, too, shall pass ♥
no subject
Date: 2020-03-22 05:37 pm (UTC)I totally agree. In the daytime, when the sun is streaming through my windows and my mind and body are occupied with work, or books, or household chores, I can push everything aside. But at night the anxiety comes rushing back in, and my normal methods of dealing with it aren't equal to the task.
It is helpful to know that we are all going through this together, all frightened and connected and reaching out across the world.
no subject
Date: 2020-03-22 01:53 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2020-03-22 05:37 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2020-03-22 03:08 pm (UTC)The Eurovision party sounds fun and like a excellent idea. I'm trying to figure out the logistics of hosting a pub quiz via Zoom for a local group. Between the floods and corona it's been postponed so many times.
no subject
Date: 2020-03-22 05:39 pm (UTC)And yes, you are right. In times of horror and crisis you get the full range of human reactions, from sheer selfish irresponsibility to kindness and community spirit.
no subject
Date: 2020-03-23 06:23 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2020-03-26 09:05 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2020-03-27 10:41 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2020-03-22 08:43 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2020-03-23 08:34 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2020-03-23 10:23 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2020-03-26 09:06 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2020-03-23 12:08 pm (UTC)Though I was almost in need of smelling salts when Newstart was, more or less, doubled by a Coalition govt. That money will go to people very much in need of it.
no subject
Date: 2020-03-26 09:08 pm (UTC)The political fallout for this is surreal. All these extreme right-wing governments being forced to implement social democracy to keep ~the economy going. It's incredible.
(That being said, the way Morrison is handling this is utterly shambolic. I'm glad individual premiers seem to be taking the initiative on their own, but the federal government's response has been, if anything, worse than its handling of the bushfires.)
no subject
Date: 2020-03-26 06:27 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2020-03-26 09:09 pm (UTC)