My parents own a small restaurant, and as such, were largely impacted by Melbourne’s various lockdowns. The restaurant is located on the outskirts of the Yarra Valley, in a peri-urban region known for tourism. As such, the location of the restaurant is isolated from major townships and shopping complexes. We were open for takeaway at the start of the pandemic, however when the 5km rule was introduced (in metropolitan Melbourne residents were only allowed to travel a maximum of 5km from home) it meant that only our very near neighbours were permitted to pick up takeaway; remaining open was thus unviable. As we transition into a post-COVID world, my Mum – the manager – in consultation with other local restaurant owners has reflected on common anxieties about the spread of COVID-19 and the process of verifying/mandating that each customer is double vaccinated (as per state government legislation). Will we receive resistance from anti-vaxxers? Will these rules impact how many customers we receive? There are many unknowns. Pictured is the interior of the restaurant – which has been packed up for nearly a year now – and our check-in QR code which customers must scan before entering.

Exercise became a large part of my life in the pre-pandemic world. It assisted me in maintaining good mental and physical health whilst I navigated university life, work life and social life. I signed up to a gym and regularly attended group fitness sessions. Having found this therapeutic outlet, my anxiety flared up when gyms were closed at the start of the pandemic. I think that many people, like me, would have struggled with the inability to undertake their fitness regimens – for social, physical or mental health purposes – during the pandemic. My Dad was also one of these people – he went out and bought a home gym for us to use (which we crammed into our spare room). In 2021, I thought the pandemic was over, however was still very appreciative of the set of dumbbells I received for my birthday. Sure enough, we were back into a lockdown soon after. Thank goodness for those dumbbells – they’ve kept me sane, more than I’d like to admit!

Lockdown shifted the nature of community dynamics in our local area. We live in a peri-urban region on the outskirts of the Yarra Ranges; as such, neighbouring properties are separated by large swathes of Australian bush. This can be isolating at times; it’s very different to suburban living. Our street (which spans about 7kms) and adjacent streets have a WhatsApp group chat named ‘Fireguard’, which allows residents to share information about fire safety, planned burn-offs and emergency warnings. However, during lockdown the chat was increasingly used for the purposes of socialisation. Suddenly, distant neighbours began sharing jokes and engaging in conversations about lockdown living, through the chat. The chat became a site of social interaction that the members of our area probably didn’t realise they needed, until they did. We eventually decided to create a separate chat for general/social purposes only, the title ‘WHICHBIN’ constituting a friendly inside joke about one particular chat member who never fails to ask, “which bin?” she needs to put out for collection each week.

State-sanctioned restrictions changed the way in which individuals/groups were able to process emotional experiences, such as grief. Our family dog –Bonnie – was a saving grace during lockdown. She was my “quarantine buddy” and made each day a little brighter. My family went through a tough time around Christmas; Bonnie was becoming progressively sicker, and we had to make the decision to put her down. When we arrived at the vet clinic, we discovered that our family who had attended – Dad, Mum, my brother, myself and my grandparents – could not all wish her farewell together; only two of us were allowed in the waiting room with Bonnie at once, due to COVIDSafe density limits. My parents went in together, and then my grandparents, and then my brother and myself. I’m glad that my brother and I got to share the experience of saying goodbye together; Bonnie was a fundamental part of our childhoods, thus we shared a similar type of grief. However, the ability to farewell this member of our family as a family unit was impacted by COVID-19. Pictured is a “Snapchat” of Bonnie that I sent to my friends, and a picture of her at the clinic.

Through discussions with my grandmother, I reflected on an interesting intersection between the impact of the lockdown on both older Melburnians and faith communities. My grandmother is a practising Buddhist; a key annual ritual that was unable to be undertaken in 2021 was the commemoration of my grandfather’s death anniversary, typically observed by preparing food and inviting friends and relatives to our home for a ceremony (known in Buddhist ethics as sharing ‘merits’ with the deceased to send them good fortune). As this gathering was not permitted, my grandmother shared ‘merits’ with my grandfather by instead donating to a charity; I think that such as example highlights the mediation between religious practices and natural sciences, in the context of this health crisis. Pictured is the receipt from my grandmother’s donation; sharing her wealth by committing this good deed was important to her during this time.

This is an image from the Anzac Day match at the MCG on the 25th of April 2021. Returning to the MCG for AFL matches was one the more ‘normal’ things we could do at the start of the year. When this game was held, it was the largest crowd recorded at a sporting event in the world. The Anzac round is my favourite round of the year and it felt amazing that footy was back and Melbourne was covid free. A couple weeks later the AFL team I support - the Collingwood Magpies - saw its lowest ever recorded attendance at the MCG since 1940, as AFL returned, many of their supporters chose not to attend games, this may be due to how our team was performing or the capacity limits. Just looking back at this photo in lockdown makes me question how we thought we were ‘back to normal’ at the start of the year, when we were so far from it.

This is a card my siblings and I wrote for our dad. In September my father was sent into emergency as he had to have a quadruple bypass. It was rather scary as no one could visit him whilst he was recovering. We are extremely lucky that his surgery got pushed forward by his cardiologist as now our public healthcare system is now struggling and surgeries like what my dad had are being postponed. His surgery was even postponed as another cardiology ward in a nearby hospital had a covid outbreak so the nurses and doctors at his hospital had to work over there. My dad came home a couple days after Father’s Day (it was the first Father’s Day we didn’t spend with him in our lives) and is now feeling so much better. The first thing he told me when he came home was that he “never wants to get covid” because he was on a ventilator, and it was “the worst part” of the whole experience. I genuinely thought he was on the ventilator for a day or multiple days as he didn’t stop complaining about how bad it was - turns out he was only conscious with the ventilator in him for just under an hour.

This image I took down the St. Kilda pier. Someone had left various stickers that spread misinformation about covid, lockdowns and the vaccine. My friends and I decided it was best to remove these stickers as they are quite harmful. Living in Melbourne it has been so tiring watching ‘freedom protestors’ and people from far-right groups constantly spread misinformation and attend protests during stage 4 lockdowns (where we can only leave the house for the essentials). The fear-mongering these groups do its quite upsetting as I’ve seen my friends and some distant family members share their information on social media. The ‘anti-vaxxers’ and covid deniers even compare wearing a mask, getting vaccinated and being in lockdown to the Holocaust, which is so harmful and upsetting

This is an image of my younger siblings on their first day back at school! My sister started her first year of school last year, so her entire schooling experience has been broken up into periods of online learning. Everyone in her grade 1 class is struggling a bit as they haven’t had a proper experience of going to school. It is not mandatory for grades prep to 2 to be wearing face masks in class; however, my brother has been admitted to the hospital a couple of times when he has a bad asthma attack so we’re trying to be as careful as we can. As you can see there are mixed feelings attached to going back to class, both were excited to see their friends and teachers, but will miss spending the whole day at home with dad and me.

This is an image I took on the first night out of the last Melbourne lockdown! I went to my favourite pasta place in Melbourne for dinner and this was their way of making sure everyone they served was fully vaccinated and checked in. Once checking in the server gave us this little laminated slip we gave to the waiter in return for the menu, this ensured no one had sat down without checking in. In Melbourne, it is mandatory for all hospitality venues to have their staff and customers fully vaccinated.

These two photographs were taken in April 2020 during Easter. My neighbourhood decided to come together and do something special for the kids - many families participated and placed teddy bears on their windows facing the footpath. This created a 'Bear Hunt' trail for children and their families to participate in. I decided to take a walk around my neighbourhood to experience this for myself and it has become one of my most memorable moments during the COVID-19 lockdown. Many children and their families were walking around socially distanced, and strangers I had never seen before would wave at me across the streets and exchange greetings. The sense of community was really strong and it felt like everyone was together, in solidarity, even amidst the toughest of times.

HIST30060: This photo of the back of my work uniform shows how workplaces were affected by the restrictions of the pandemic. Hardware stores were able to stay open to trade customers and for "click and collect" purchases during Melbourne's lockdowns, which meant a change to our normal work routines. Staff were charged with the responsibility of making sure customers wore masks, checked in with the QR codes and practiced social distancing throughout the store. These necessary rules were challenging to enforce sometimes and customers could often be disgruntled and unhappy with these changes. This message on the back of the uniform was in keeping with the atmosphere of working during this period and symbolises our adjustment to "covid normal" practices.

(HIST30060) This photo is of a drawing by one of my housemates of part of a postcard that we received during the first lockdown in 2020. Conspiracy theories surrounding the virus and 5G had just begun to spread during Melbourne's first lockdown, yet my housemates and I felt quite removed from this phenomenon as our social circle mainly consisted of other young, progressive students who were very against these sorts of theories. Receiving this postcard in the mail however, was quite a shock, knowing that people close to us in our area of Melbourne shared these beliefs. Whilst we initially found the image of a man with a hole cut out of his mask humorous, hence the drawing, we were also astounded at the intensity of the covid-scam propaganda. This also marked my first taste of the bitter divide that was to come between pro and anti vaxxers in 2021.

HIST30060: This screenshot of my auntie's birthday celebration on zoom would be a familiar scene to many. This is one of the many ways my family had to adjust to "covid normal". Birthdays always involve a big gathering and a way for everyone to catch up; losing this was really disheartening . However, this photo also represents the resilience of my family in still being able to find a way to be together, even if zoom felt like a poor substitute. Zoom was and still is a crucial part of many people's lives in the pandemic, yet can create a barrier for those who find the interface challenging to use. Elderly members of my family often found zoom quite tiring and hard to use, creating a further barrier to connecting in lockdown.

This poem was written in May of 2020 during Melbourne's first official lockdown. This poem was written for a University assignment and was published in an anthology in September 2021. I wasn't deliberately trying to write about the pandemic in this piece, however the long days at home spent with housemates, playing board games and watching reality tv, crept into the piece. This medication on the beauty of domestic mundanity reflects how people had to adjust their perspectives on constantly being home. Unless there was a way to find joy and beauty in the everyday it would have been impossible to get through the tough, lengthy restrictions.

(HIST30060) Like the people that learnt to bake sourdough, completed dozens of puzzles or took up running; I decided that learning to knit would serve to occupy the time between work and study that didn't involve Netflix. This represents how I benefitted in part from Melbourne's lengthy lockdowns, as opposed to people who may have struggled with added responsibilities like guiding children through schooling on zoom or working in healthcare on the frontlines of the pandemic. Knitting also acted as something I could mark my time with; this picture was taken on my birthday when I decided to make my first jumper. Instead of remembering this time as purely disheartening, with the news of a re instating of lockdown in late August 2020, I also remember it as an exciting period where I really honed in on my new craft.

During Melbourne’s first lockdown in 2020, movements to bring joy to the few remaining active public spaces were organised over social media and among local communities. One trend was pavement art that encouraged the walker to “laugh”, “pick up some rubbish” and “strike a pose” on their permitted hour of exercise. These minor artworks expressed an optimism in community strength at the early stages of the pandemic; they expressed, too, a resilience in Melbourne’s identity as a city of art and culture. By the second lockdown in August 2020 the chalk had been washed away and there was little to replace it. Creating community from inside our own homes, it turned out, was much harder to sustain than anyone had imagined. Submitted for University of Melbourne HIST30060, Semester 2 2021.

Melbourne Cup Day, 2021. My family has always made time for good food and good drink during the races. Today, though, started with a barbecued sausage in white bread from Bunnings. The return of the community fundraiser sausage sizzle at Bunnings hardware stores has been the subject of memes and jokes throughout yet another long winter lockdown: it is, so the joke goes, the best symbol of freedom we have. The sausage sizzle has a peculiar cultural import in Australia. In recent years, the election day tradition of fundraising has been called the “democracy sausage”, a signifier of the national democratic culture. The “freedom sausage” seems to be in the same category. After months at home, it is the simple things like browsing pot plants and lumber that are most appealing. Only select Bunnings, apparently, were approved to resume sizzles this weekend, so I was glad to take advantage of it. Submitted for University of Melbourne HIST30060, Semester 2 2021.

In 2020, the Faculty of Engineering at the University of Melbourne posted a tiny bag of cement to each second-year engineering student to create a miniature concrete column for their final assessment. In ordinary times, these students would have visited one of the city’s megaprojects to watch a concrete pour, but with construction barely operating and site visits banned, this was how the theory of the concrete mix was put into practice. There was a “slump test” to gauge the pliability of the mix and then the finished product could be assessed for its strength. My slump was good; my column, I suspect, would have failed at its base due to an overabundance of aggregate. For me, it was the highlight of a year of online study, and perhaps even more rewarding than it might have been in ordinary times. Now, I have a treasured (and very heavy) paperweight by which to remember my experience. Submitted for University of Melbourne HIST30060, Semester 2 2021.

As Melbourne moved out of its second winter in lockdown, my Irish dancing classes moved from Zoom to South Melbourne Beach to take advantage of the rules allowing outdoor sport training in small groups. Having to contend with the sun, wind and rain was a new experience for a very indoor activity; so was training in full view of the fascinated public. It was a spectacular chance to post on social media in the setting sun, however. The beach was packed every weeknight with people like us enjoying their outdoor exercise, more than it had ever been before the pandemic. At the rules eased and allowed more indoor activities, people disappeared from the courts and walking paths. Eventually, we returned to indoor activities too. Submitted for University of Melbourne HIST30060, Semester 2 2021.

As Melbourne’s second wave crested and fell in mid-2020, “the presser” was appointment viewing; “the number” could bring hope or despair. Sometime in the dreary days of lockdown, my family started guessing how many cases would be reported each day. Keeping a running tally of who was closest to the pin. Perhaps it was a way of taking control of the uncontrollable. Dealing with the apparent randomness of the numbers that controlled every aspect of our lives. Some of the scraps of paper we used to write on were time capsules of a vanished world: a rough sketch of enrolments for the second half of my BA; an invoice from a tradesman; a reminder note to pick someone up from hospital. Plans, visitors, outings – all overwritten by inexorable quotidian sameness. Submitted for University of Melbourne HIST30060, Semester 2 2021.

As the number one song in Triple J's Hottest 100 of 2020, Heat Waves is a song that is irrevocably linked to the Covid 19 pandemic. While its lyrics about loss and longing and the inability to fix anything aren't specifically about the pandemic, its themes resonated with audiences as they mourned the loss of their old lives and lamented over their helplessness. Although it was released in 2020, its popularity continues to grow in 2021, proving the song's staying power. The music video is incredibly unique and truly representative of the time, capturing how neighbours and strangers struggled to connect despite lockdowns and physical barriers. In a comment under the YouTube music video, Glass Animals wrote: "this video is a love letter to live music and the culture and togetherness surrounding it. It was filmed at the peak of the lockdown in my neighbourhood in East London by the lovely people who live around me, just using their phones. These are people who are usually out at shows, in galleries, going to cinemas etc. These venues are left empty now, and many of them will not survive. The song is about loss and longing, and ultimately realizing you are unable to save something...and this video is about that but for art, being together, and human contact. Huge love and thank you’s to everyone who got involved and helped out. When everyone was leaning out of their windows filming, I felt that same sense of togetherness and spine-tingling energy that happened at live shows. It made the coldness of performing to an empty room with the band stuck on screens feel even more heart-breaking." HIST30060

Taylor Swift was a defining artist in the 2010s. As her following grew, she ventured further into pop and spectacle, but with the sudden onset of Covid and its subsequent lockdowns, Swift changed her music style to a minimalist folk aesthetic. The song "exile" featuring Bon Iver captured the melancholic and rundown emotions of the general public by the end of 2020 and was a cathartic experience. "Exile" and its accompanying album "Folklore" were widely praised and "Folklore" went on to become the best-selling album of 2020. The music video for "exile" shows how music production changed during the pandemic. In the video, Swift and Bon Iver's Justin Vernon are seen sitting in separate home studios, as they never met in person to record the song due to travel restrictions. All the musicians featured are socially distanced and Vernon is wearing a face covering. There are also no special effects, a small budget, and a simple editing style, which stands in contrast to Swift's pre-pandemic music videos. HIST30060

This is a photograph from my first journal entry after lockdown began. It shows what I think was a fairly common welcomed feeling to the lockdown, before we knew how serious things would get. I recall being excited to have some time to focus on writing and exercise without the distractions of work. How quickly those feelings changed...

This is a text message I received from the manager of the bar that I work at. It shows the frustration of beleaguered hospitality workers with the difficulties of enforcing government rules such as mask mandates and vaccination certificates as a condition of entry.

This screenshot of a pub's 'freedom menu' captures the way that people's opinions lockdown measures have been expressed in strange ways. It also highlights the unusual propensity for anti-lockdown opinions to elevate their struggle to that of great civil rights movements of history with their persistent use of terminology like segregation.

This pamphlet was dropped into my letter box during the height of Melbourne's anti-lockdown protests. It speaks to the religious aspects of the anti-lockdown movement.

The screenshot for a post lockdown birthday shows the enthusiasm for reopening and recommencing social life, but is tempered by the restrictions still in place.

During the lockdowns and COVID restrictions in Melbourne, Jewish communities found ways to connect. Especially important are the Friday evening services for Shabbat. Kehilat Kolenu, a Humanistic Jewish organisation held zoom meetings in place of their usual Kabbalat Shabbat services. Especially during the loneliest, most isolating periods in my lockdown experience, these zoom meetings where I could hear the songs of my culture helped me feel spiritually and socially reconnected. HIST30060

In the wake of the anti-lockdown riots that gripped Melbourne in September 2021, the Campaign Against Fascism movement disseminated the phrase Pro-Vax, Pro-Union, Anti-Fascist. Inspired by this, Link/לינק, a zine associated with the Jewish Labour Bund in Melbourne, posted a poster to their Instagram account, of their take on this messaging, including the shouting man from early twentieth-century Bund posters. The poster was also physically published in the zine's second edition in October 2021. HIST30060

Melbourne's state of rolling lockdowns through the second half of 2021 played havoc with the performing arts industry. 'Durkh A Modnem Gloz' ('Through A Strange Lens'), staged by the Kadimah Jewish Cultural Centre in Elsternwick, a Yiddish cabaret performed by Galit Klas (with English translation surtitles created and operated by me) was an event that had to be rescheduled multiple times. As seen in the first image, the original performance dates were listed June 23-27, but was postponed to July 21-25 due to insufficient rehearsal time, thanks to the lockdown ending 10th June. With a new lockdown coming into effect on Thursday 15th of July, new dates were again required. In the Facebook post on the 21st of July (screenshotted and posted here), the Kadimah Jewish Cultural Centre officially announced the postponement. These new dates were set for August 4-8, but the opening night was the only show performed as Lockdown 6 was announced and came into effect on Thursday 5th. Now with that lockdown finally over, will ‘Durkh A Modne Gloz’ finally get the full season it deserves? (Uploaded as a part of my university studies: HIST30060)

Pictured here is the 2021 Ormond College Scholar’s Dinner. This event has a long history at the College as a celebration of academic excellence. Yet in 2021 it looked a little different than in previous years. In this image you can see the hallmarks of the COVID-19 pandemic – mask wearing, seated social distancing and individual, single serve drinks. Nevertheless, many of the rich traditions of the College can still be seen – a formal hall, the use of the original dining hall and the wearing of academic gowns. There is both continuity and change within this image. In this, it gives insight into a tension felt by many during the pandemic – the desire to hold onto the past, but the need to be adaptive. HIST30060

Pictured here is the Melbourne Royal Exhibition Building during its time as a COVID-19 Vaccination Centre. This building has had a plethora of purposes throughout its history. For me, it was once my university exam hall, and now in August 2021 it was the site of my first Pfizer COVID-19 vaccination. In this, one is given a glimpse into the transformations that the COVID-19 pandemic has brought to life in Melbourne. The city itself still exists, almost entirely unchanged, but the way we live our lives within it has been radically re-shaped by this pandemic. HIST30060

Pictured here is my Victorian border entry permit, issued in January 2021. At this time, due to Australian state and territory border closures, all people entering the state of Victoria were required to hold a government-issued border entry permit. To be eligible for this permit, one had to have spent the previous fourteen days in a so-called ‘green zone’, that is, an area deemed by the Victorian Department of Health and Human Services to be of low COVID risk. Embodied then within this permit is the impact of COVID-19 on the daily lives of Australians. While once able to freely travel, government permission was now required for movement across state and territory borders. These restrictions placed immense financial and emotional strain on many Australians throughout 2020 and 2021, including myself. Note: For privacy reasons, personal information has been redacted from this document HIST30060

This here is the journal entry I wrote on my first night in 14-day mandatory hotel quarantine at the Northern Territory’s Howard Springs Quarantine Facility in January 2021. At this time, in an effort to control the spread of covid, movement between many Australian states and territories required mandatory hotel quarantine upon arrival. For many, including myself, this process was filled with anxiety and uncertainty. Yet simultaneously, a sense of excitement and adventure. This journal entry gives insight into the complexities of emotions associated with the Australian Covid-19 Hotel Quarantine System. HIST30060

This is a beautiful contraption that sprung up on my street during the lockdowns in Naarm/Melbourne. It’s also a startling localised act of care, likely by a child, and it gave me lots of joy walking past it to the shops everyday.

The local basketball courts near my house were closed due to risk of contamination with COVID-19, much to the dismay of my sweet young neighbours.

During the lockdowns in Naarm/Melbourne I was lucky enough to have access to a lot of musical instruments through my partner, who is a musician. I channelled a lot of my fear and worry into learning to play piano again, I had learnt as a child. I found this incredibly rewarding. It carried me through. Here’s me masked up with my portable synthesiser.

I am a radio presenter and producer and during the lockdowns in Naarm/Melbourne I had to learn how to remote record and broadcast my content. I found myself hushing my housemates in order to record hour-long content from my headphone mic, very solo and DIY. It felt good to be part of a greater community project, broadcasting punk, DIY, and political chat to our regular listeners through the lockdowns.

I found this chalk slogan on the road hilariously neo-liberal. Absolutely, greed sucks - the way COVID-19 exacerbated wealth inequalities and ravaged communities disproportionately (due to lack of resources/access and over-policing) sucks. Yet, this chalked slogan was a simplification (or even armchair activist representation) of that reality and this made me chuckle.

During the 6th Victorian lockdown in August 2021, my family decided to do some cleaning of our old children’s books to pass the time. My mum decided to set up this little ‘lockdown library’ to give the books out for free to good homes, in hopes of helping kids who are stuck at home stay busy during the lockdown and online schooling. As they cleaned, they also found some adult books to give away as well, in hopes that it would help provide not only entertainment, but a reminder of human kindness and the fact that we are all in this together.

Some reflections on the pandemic from my experience working in a suburban supermarket in Melbourne. I share some general feelings about how COVID changed the environment within supermarkets, as well as several pandemic-related interactions with customers.

This video was taken on 21 September 2021, capturing the view of the Westgate Bridge from Williamstown, Melbourne, as anti-lockdown protestors fill several lanes and disrupt traffic. The footage shows smoke coming from the bridge and all traffic brought to a standstill. There were also helicopters hovering and police car lights joining the scene later on. I was on a walk with a friend along the Esplanade at the time this footage was taken. It felt quite scary to be seeing aggressive, violent attitudes manifest so close to home. We knew what was going because of news updates coming through our phones. After the initial shock and fear at witnessing this happening on a few kilometres away, my friend and I walked the rest of the way in silence, too appalled by the behaviour to do more than shake our heads in dismay.

This photo was taken in May 2020, when Melbourne restrictions prevented religious gatherings from taking place. I attend Westgate Baptist Community church in Yarraville in the western suburbs of Melbourne, and it had transitioned to zoom for its church services by this point. On the day this picture was taken, we were meant to organise our own bread and wine for the ritual of communion. It was strange to source these elements on our own and even stranger to just pass them to each other instead of being given them by the pastor. It probably took some sense of gravitas and 'specialness' out of the ritual. At the same time though, it was evident that in a very precarious, unprecedented time, this community was really hanging on to such rituals for some normalcy and comfort in a sense of the divine's presence. We would not be back to in-person services until February 2021.

This photo was taken in May 2020, when Melbourne restrictions prevented religious gatherings from taking place. I attend Westgate Baptist Community church in Yarraville in the western suburbs of Melbourne, and it had transitioned to zoom for its church services by this point. On the day this picture was taken, we were meant to organise our own bread and wine for the ritual of communion. It was strange to source these elements on our own and even stranger to just pass them to each other instead of being given them by the pastor. It probably took some sense of gravitas and 'specialness' out of the ritual. At the same time though, it was evident that in a very precarious, unprecedented time, this community was really hanging on to such rituals for some normalcy and comfort in a sense of the divine's presence. We would not be back to in-person services until February 2021.

This screenshot was taken during a zoom call with members of my Dad's side of the family in September 2020, during Victoria's third COVID lockdown. At this point, we hadn't seen each other since early June of that year, which was unusual - in normal times, we would gather in person at least once a month, but lockdown prevented social gatherings with anyone outside one's household. We were zooming in from 8 different locations and with competing voices, technical difficulties and zoom-illiterate older relatives, it wasn't quite the same experience as catching up in person. One thing we realised very quickly was that it was impossible to initiate more intimate, one-on-one conversations with people on zoom. Instead, each screen in the call got a chance to give an update and we missed the more personal conversations. It was also strange seeing families grouped together in this virtual family gathering. In person, certain people in the family would naturally form groups based on age and gender and families wouldn't appear so much like a unit as in these calls. Although it was good to see people's faces again, I think we would all agree zoom calls are a poor substitute for the real deal.

HIST30060. How do you pass the time during a 5km radius lockdown with only four reasons to leave? Chess. After watching the Queens Gambit, my housemates and I spend a few hours a day playing multiple games of chess in person, or on Chess.com. Chess is a great way to pass the time because each game is unique. Every game has thousands of variables that allow alternative moves to ‘one-up’ your opponent. We started off with little no knowledge of the game but built our fundamentals through Youtube tutorials. This has increased a skills rapidly and allowed us to challenge people across the world using Chess.com. Online chess, in fact, is the most used online game in the world and continues to rapidly grow during the pandemic. I like this image because it captures the way my housemates and I have been living whilst full-time students with limited time to earn income. Note the piece of ply we use as an outdoor table, sitting on chairs we found on the side of the road. We managed to furnish our whole house like this, which I think is impressive but really dingy.

These are screenshots of text messages sent from a supermarket manager to a group chat of service team members of a major Australian supermarket in Altona North, Melbourne. They detail the new cleaning regime that became part of the responsibilities of working in a supermarket during the pandemic. These include instructions about wiping down surfaces with sanitiser and keeping 1.5m distance from coworkers. These texts came a few days after Victoria's third lockdown was announced. I worked at the supermarket at the time and it was an extremely chaotic period, made more hectic by ever-changing restrictions and developments in COVID-safe practices. We would get texts like these quite frequently during this third lockdown because it was so important that supermarket essential workers kept abreast of COVID developments and worked to make supermarkets as safe as possible.

Despite not having been able to attend my university campus for the prior year and not being able to attend it in the coming year as a result of lockdown restrictions, I was still forced to pay an amenities fee to the university. This meant that I had restricted access to the amenities that I was still paying full price for. This combined with losing my job made the payment difficult to make.

After losing my job the prior month I attempted to find financial support through the Jobkeeper program that was being run by the Victorian Government at the time. Unfortunately as a result of being terminated the prior month as well as having a casual status at the job I was unable to receive support from the government or the company that I worked for. This meant that I was out of work and money for a period of 6 months in 2020 before finally being able to find another job. Personal information relating to myself and the business have been marked out in order to protect privacy.