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Sensory History
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2020-03-16
From Unheard of to Unheard
This excerpt outlines how the start of the pandemic affected the noise level of an undergraduate college campus. -
2020-03-29
Eau de Sanitizer: A Home Fragrance
The early days of quarantine were quiet and calm, as the streets around my home in Southern California were filled with silence since there were fewer cars and people roaming outdoors. Sanitizer and rubbing alcohol were in high demand, and in heavy rotation in our home, as everything that came in was wiped, sprayed, and cleaned before being put away. I remember coming home from the store and wiping down every item with alcohol and sanitizer, and I remember wiping down every counter, surface, and phone. Afterwards, the house was filled with the sharp and dismal aroma of rubbing alcohol, as the fragrance mimicked a well-diffused scented candle. The distinctive scent wafted throughout the living room and lingered within the walls, the drapes, and the furniture. It became the scent of March 2020, and a home fragrance which lacked the expected or traditional calming or soothing properties of a candle or diffuser that is placed in a room. Every outing resulted in rubbing alcohol-infused surroundings, which served as a constant reminder of the changing climate. Eau de Sanitizer recalled the uneasiness, fear, and chaotic shops of the early pandemic, as it was a fragrant reminder of the unknown. The memory of that spring is tied to the scent of rubbing alcohol, and now every time I light a candle in my living room I am reminded of those early days. -
2021-10-14
When Silence took over Las Vegas
I live in a city bursting with lights, music, wonder, excitement, tourists, and opportunity – Las Vegas, known throughout the world for its casinos and world-class entertainment. Two of its most popular attractions are the Las Vegas Strip and the Fremont Street Experience. The Las Vegas Strip, an almost 5-mile section of Las Vegas Boulevard, is filled with an array of sparkling and neon lights showcasing casinos, hotels with thousands of rooms, restaurants, and entertainment venues -- always bustling with people. My absolute favorite sight and sound along this part of the drive is the spectacular Bellagio Fountains. As you continue on a couple of miles past The Strat, you are introduced to the sights, sounds, and smells of the Fremont Street Experience in historic downtown Las Vegas. Whether I am driving by or enjoying a night out, I love to hear the sounds of the Fremont Street Experience, where crowds of locals and tourists enjoy music along with its famous unique experiences. The Slotzilla Zipline zips laughing and screaming people above the noisy crowds looking up to see them glide under the world's largest digital display while presenting light and sound shows. It is a carnival-like atmosphere within a 6-block street party. Free bands play simultaneously on several stages along the street, while people sing and dance in the streets and have a good time. All ages find it perfect for date nights, parties, or hanging out. Then along came the dark shadow of COVID, shutting down Las Vegas, and the music stopped. The Fremont Street Experience became quiet. It was no longer a place where you could hear different kinds of music coming from multiple areas. No bands were playing your favorite dance songs or rock and roll. Fremont just became a regular street with noiseless empty hotels and restaurants. The stages were silent and bare, and the crowds' shouting, laughter, and singing disappeared. Fremont was quiet for the first time in its history. The excitement and joy were gone. It was no longer a fun place to go, and the silence felt eerie and hauntingly incongruent. Fremont, like much of Las Vegas, felt, looked, and sounded like a ghost town. Now, as we open back up to the public and the crowds return, I once again hear the laughter, the bustle of people, and live music when I drive past or show up. Fremont is back, and now there is only a memory of when the sound of silence was all that filled the air. -
2021-10-14
Suffering of My Relatives From COVID-19
Here is a story of how the pandemic affected some relatives of mine who currently live in India. Specifically, they live in Bangalore, in South India. Between January and February of this year, they caught the COVID-19 disease. Perhaps they got it while they were in the central city shopping area doing routine shopping. In any case, it afflicted my relatives strongly. Two of them died, having succumbed to COVID-19. A significant way in which the disease tormented them was in their loss of sense of taste. Once COVID-19 affected them, beyond experiencing much fatigue, chills, and body aches, they could not taste anything. My affected aunt had apparently claimed, "Everything tastes like mud." The loss of taste, fatigue, chills, fever, and breathing difficulty are standard symptoms for the COVID-19 disease, which may appear 2-14 days after exposure to the virus. Also, the pandemic affects different individuals in different ways. The disease progresses in its affecting people, with mild symptoms eventually developing to severe illness. Unfortunately, until the COVID-19 symptoms passed, quarantine measures were taken against my relatives; they were confined within their apartments. As I am close to these people not physically but in a familial sense - as I am currently living in the US – their suffering had a great emotional impact on me; and their welfare means much to me. l can also empathize with Indian COVID-19 suffering, especially the notion of suffering due to lack of taste. Indian culture greatly values cuisine, and taste is an associated factor of cuisine; therefore, loss of taste is quite significant. -
2020-09-09
The smells of the campus silenced
The vibrant community around San Francisco State was the main factor why I decided to move into Park Merced. The ability to walk to campus each day or ride my bike with other students was exciting to see riding skateboards or bikes while smelling coffee or energy drinks was common. The smell on campus with the wide variety of food and snacks was common to every part of the campus early or late. However, this all changed once Covid was originally announced and students and staff started leaving the campus and area and the sights and sounds of people and food on the campus were silent. The campus now remained silent and the smells of burritos and coffee were gone along with students walking to campus. The residents who used to sit outside and occasionally sat outside reading papers disappeared. The air while cleaner breathing because of the lack of air was soon polluted by the fires in California leaving a red mist that made the air smell like burnt wood. The pandemic changed so many people's lives and it is important to recognize the impact mentally and physically people have suffered. The pandemic silenced the campus and the community silencing the site and sounds while removing the smells that the campus was known for. -
2020-03-12
The Disinfectant Spray
As a high school history educator, Thursday, March 12, 2020, stands out in my mind as a significant date as it was the final day of in-person instruction before our district decided to close the school until Spring Break as a result of the spread of COVID-19. There was nervous energy radiating from my students and colleagues. The fear of the unknown was palpable. I remember changing my current events lesson mid-day as the activity I had planned, monopolized by the growing health crisis, brought me too much anxiety. By that point in March, there were portable hand washing stations located at various points on campus, students more readily pumped the wall-mounted Purell hand sanitizer container on their way into my classroom, and the school sites passed out a collection of cleaning supplies to the teachers. I used the school-provided disinfectant spray to help keep the classroom clean. The smell still serves as a visceral call back to that March day. Between each class, I dutifully sprayed the disinfectant on each desk, wiping it clean for the next student. The nose-scrunching sting of the alcohol-based cleaner filled my room rather than the calming vanilla room spray, amplifying the seriousness of the situation unfolding beyond my classroom walls. The smell lingered in my nostrils as I told my students that I would see them the following Tuesday, not knowing that those sophomores would not step foot in my classroom again before they were seniors in high school. The scent swirled around me as I packed up my belongings at the end of the day and debated how much I should bring home with me. The smell still enveloped the classroom as I unknowingly shut my door for the rest of the 2019-2020 school year and left campus. There have been many iterations of the smell of alcohol-based cleaning wipes and hand sanitizers throughout the pandemic as we anxiously try to keep ourselves healthy. The obsessive use of disinfectants reveals the desperation we feel to combat an invisible foe. However, the school-provided disinfectant still has the distinct ability to conjure memories of that emotional day in March when we were on the precipice of change. -
2020-02-02
Sounds and Scents of a Maine Island
In February 2020, I moved to Vinalhaven, an island off the coast of Maine, for a job that promised to advance my career and provide time for personal introspection and growth. The island community was vibrant, and as a newcomer, I was invited to dinner parties, game nights, and book club meetings – I hardly had time to miss the family and friends I left behind in Colorado. Three weeks later, the COVID-19 pandemic required me to exchange my introduction to the community for long solitary hours. Handshakes and warm hugs from new acquaintances were replaced by cold winter days and a lack of human contact. The seclusion drove me to explore the island’s shoreline and conservation trails and intermingle with nature that was unimpeded by humans who had retreated behind the walls of their homes. Without the distraction of a companion, I noticed the wind rushing through trees, saltwater crashing against the rocks at the ocean’s edge, bald eagles screeching, chickadees singing, and small animals scurrying through tall natural grasses near the basin. I sat so still one morning that a curious, gray mink approached me and stared for a few seconds. One November evening, while I walked along the rocky shoreline at State Beach, an estrous scent from a whitetail doe in heat wafted from the nearby woods. While the pungent odor attracted bucks, the smell assaulted my nose and distracted me from the fresh scents of saltwater, pine, and balsam. The overpowering smell suggested that the doe was close; her presence comforted me in my isolation. I expected to integrate into my new island home through people. Instead, I became grounded in the environment, surrounded by the sounds and scents that I may have otherwise missed. -
2020-02
Sights and Sounds of a Maine Island
In February 2020, I moved to Vinalhaven, an island off the coast of Maine, for a job that promised to advance my career and provide time for personal introspection and growth. The island community was vibrant, and as a newcomer, I was invited to dinner parties, game nights, and book club meetings – I hardly had time to miss the family and friends I left behind in Colorado. Three weeks later, the COVID-19 pandemic required me to exchange my introduction to the community for long solitary hours. Handshakes and warm hugs from new acquaintances were replaced by cold winter days and a lack of human contact. The seclusion drove me to explore the island’s shoreline and conservation trails and intermingle with nature that was unimpeded by humans who had retreated behind the walls of their homes. Without the distraction of a companion, I noticed the wind rushing through trees, saltwater crashing against the rocks at the ocean’s edge, bald eagles screeching, chickadees singing, and small animals scurrying through tall natural grasses near the basin. I sat so still one morning that a curious, gray mink approached me and stared for a few seconds. One November evening, while I walked along the rocky shoreline at State Beach, an estrous scent from a whitetail doe in heat wafted from the nearby woods. While the pungent odor attracted bucks, the smell assaulted my nose and distracted me from the fresh scents of saltwater, pine, and balsam. The overpowering smell suggested that the doe was close; her presence comforted me in my isolation. I expected to integrate into my new island home through people. Instead, I became grounded in the environment, surrounded by the sounds and scents that I may have otherwise missed. -
2020-04-07
Rediscovering the tastes of my childhood
Some of my earliest memories are of the sights, sounds, and tastes of my grandmother’s kitchen. She passed away almost exactly one year before the stay-at-home order was put in place in Washington State. At that time, I was already an online student working from home and my partner was driving across the state every weekend to work and come back home. When lockdown started, I didn’t realize how cooped up I would feel. I decided I needed to revisit the feelings of my grandmother’s kitchen. Around the same time, my family got a trailer full of boxes of my grandmother’s things. In this box was a handwritten cookbook filled with the recipes and stories from my childhood. There were handwritten letters from my great-grandfather to my grandmother, recipes she had clipped out of newspapers in the 1970s and 1980s, and family recipes I thought were lost when she passed. One of which was a Spiced tea, also known as friendship tea, recipe. For me, this tea is the epitome of Christmas time spent with my grandma. This recipe exists on the internet, but it was never as good as the one my grandmother made. When I found these recipes, I set out on cooking my way through them to pass my time during lockdown. My partner was working remotely so he was home to try them with me. It was an emotional experience for me after the loss of my grandmother and it reminded me how much food can bring people together. This recipe no longer represents Christmas and my grandmother, it now is something that makes me think of lockdown with my own family and how it brought us together. If it wasn’t for the stay-at-home order, I probably wouldn’t have connected to these recipes again and I definitely would never have had to buy tang. The pandemic has brought a greater connection to history and sensory history. The pandemic has also changed the way we experience our senses and even changed those senses for some people. Sensory history shows how people experienced the world around them during the pandemic. If you try this recipe, don’t be afraid of adding more or less of what you like. I don’t know what measurement a scoop is, but as my grandmother always told me, we don’t measure to be perfect we measure with our hearts. My best guess is that there are about 2 tablespoons in a “scoop”. Ginther’s Spice Tea 1 ½ cup Tang 6 scoops lemonade ½ cup instant tea ½ cup sugar ½ teaspoon cloves (or fresh whole cloves) 1 tablespoon cinnamon (or fresh sticks) Combine the above ingredients. Add 2 Tablespoons of mix per cup of hot water. -
2020-04-09
Pandemic Dinner of Gluten-Free Orange Chicken is a Sensory Reminder of Evolving Grocery Shopping and the Effect on My Mental Health
Pre-Pandemic, my small family of three went shopping altogether at our local Frys Grocery every Sunday. As the type of person that lives inside their head and has difficulty multi-tasking when distracted, this was usually an overwhelming experience. It involved avoiding people parked sideways in aisles, answering questions from my wife and daughter (somehow usually at the same time), and being interrupted by loud intercoms. To me it was sensorial overload every week of my hearing and vision to the point where I wanted to leave. When the pandemic really started up in April of 2020 my wife and I decided that my daughter should stay home and we would take turns shopping every week individually to decrease the chances of affecting the employees, the other customers, and ourselves. Along with this was my increased effort to come up with meals and recipes on my "turn." The recipe attached, gluten-free orange chicken from https://www.evolvingtable.com, reminds me of this interesting evolution in shopping that still takes place, as it is my turn to shop today. While my wife looks upon the idea of shopping individually as a loss and misses it...I am able to shop without being overwhelmed. Between less customers in the store (due to ordering online and pick up), the store progressing to using handheld radios, and being by myself, I can really focus and no longer am stressed and overwhelmed to the point where I just want to leave. Every time I make this recipe and taste the delicious orange flavor and smell that hot sesame oil that I had never used before the pandemic, it reminds me of how a stressful pandemic has strangely (and selfishly) made one recurring weekday of my life less stressful. -
2020-04-06
Celebrating Life During Covid
The echoing silence is what stands out to me the most. Where there should have been “Taps” playing, blanks being fired in the air, and stories being told, there was nothing. On April 1, 2020, my grandfather passed away of natural causes. Under normal circumstances, my parents and I would have traveled up to Montana to attend his funeral. However, due to the fact that my father and I are immune-compromised, we were unable to attend. Even if we were able to make the trip, there was the possibility that we would not be able to attend the service. The funeral home only allowed ten people to be at the funeral, masked-up and socially distanced. On the day of the funeral, April 6, 2020, my parents and I attended the funeral virtually. We were sitting in the car (my parents were at work) watching the funeral on a FaceTime call with my sister. The service was extremely short. The funeral home wanted to make the service as quick as possible to limit potential exposure. This meant there was no eulogy, no military honors (he was an Air Force veteran), and very little time for the sharing of stories of personal stories. Thus, the service was oddly quiet. Funerals are typically quiet, but this was something more. There were tears, but the tears were hallowed. A lot of the emotion involved with a funeral comes from the memories shared. These tears are not all sad tears. This is because a life is being celebrated, all the ups and downs. The tears at my grandfather’s funeral were all sadness. Sad tears sound different than happy tears. Happy tears are often associated with laughter, something lacking at this funeral. Another sound that was absent during my grandfather’s funeral was his military honors. Typically, at a funeral that involves a veteran, there are a few things happen: “Taps” is played, a rifle detail fires blanks into the air, and a burial flag is presented to the next of kin. My grandfather did not receive military honors at his funeral. Thus, these sounds were not present. My grandfather’s funeral was the closest thing to silent as can possibly be. Covid prevented my grandfather from having the funeral he deserved. Fortunately, my family was able to give him a proper celebration of life in June 2020, which involved everything that had been missing at his funeral. The sounds of happy and sad tears were present, along with the sounds of full military honors. I am glad we were able to accomplish this, but to me, it felt different. The memories of his “silent” funeral were still engrained in my mind, causing me to have mixed emotions of sadness and anger that were not able to properly celebrate him at his funeral. -
2021-06-02
COVID 19: An Influence for Positivity
The text document describes how COVID gave me an opportunity to reinvent myself. The live recreation of a famous meme is an example of how I tapped into my creativity, living a more fulfilling life -
2020-08-03
U.S. History Classroom 2020
When I came home from my last deployment in December 2019, I began to look for teaching jobs- I was for the first time preparing for the teaching job market. Suddenly, when Covid-19 hit the streets, most business and shops closed their doors and were only open for carry-out. In May 2020, I was worried because most school corporations announced that they would presume classes virtually or through a mix of hybrid days that would consists of both synchronous and asynchronous learning for the first portion of the school year. I thought that this would be a learning curve for me if I ended up getting a position. By August 2020, I got a position as an 11th-grade high school teacher in my hometown. Before the bell rang on 03 August 2020, I put the rubber gloves on that the school’s office gave me and sprayed each desk down with bleach. The tight latex gloves did not fit my hand properly but worked for its purpose. The disinfectant left an aroma in the air, similar to a hospital. Brinnnnng, the bell sounded, and the students began marching into the building as I watched them from my window. My forehead began to bead up with sweet (I was nervous for my first day). Then, I put on my mask and stood outside my door. As I waited at the door, I remembered the old days when I was a student at that same school, I was now a teacher. Back then, the hallways were filled with my peers, there were lots of hugging and other high schoolers interaction going on. Everywhere I turned, my peers were smiling and excited to share summer stories. In a blink of eyes, when I looked at the hallways, my peers were no longer there. Neither was the high schooler me. Now, I look through the hallways and it is filled with faceless students. The unnatural phenomena brought forth by Covid-19. The wearing of a mask in the U.S. society is unnatural. The students tried to stay six feet away and tried not make physical contact with anyone. The masks covered their faces, and many wore gloves to open their lockers. As I greeted my students entering my class first period, they seemed happy to be in school in-person since all surrounding corporations had announced they would have online instruction. As they seated, they soon realized that each desk was coated in residues from the cleaning products. I then went to the front of my class and tried to write my name on the board. The marker streaked the board. The cleaning products from wiping each room down from the cleaning staff had left a clear coating that made it impossible to write on. This was a common theme for each class that entered my room. By the end of the day, the room was filled with body and cleaning supplies odors. The coating on the board ruined my marker. My hands shriveled from the gloves, and my ears were red and irritated from the mask. I thought to myself, “this is the new norm now. I must get used to it, so students do not feel overwhelmed.” I chose this story because I felt that this was a challenging year for all first-year teachers. I wanted to bring insight on how difficult it was to try and keep calm and push students to strive to their potential without making students have the extra worry of Covid. This story shows how Covid affected not only adults but everyone in our society. -
2020-07-09
The Unkempt Lockdown Beard
Over the past year, I found myself for the first time extremely isolated from most of the outside world. As opposed to my entire life previously, where I was always around other people and tried to make my appearance presentable, I no longer had to worry about what I looked like. As a result, I stopped shaving and let my beard grow for weeks and months on end. I will never forget the strange feelings associated with the different stages of my beard. Running my fingers across my face and feeling the sharp pricks from the stubble of a short beard, or the fuzzy and puffy feelings from touching my medium-sized beard, or straitening out the matted hair of my longish beard. As I had never tried to grow a beard before, these feelings were new to me and something I will not forget. The picture I uploaded was shortly after I had shaved my cheeks and left the rest of the hair on my face and neck, which felt stubbly and sharp on the sides but more silky and smooth in other areas. This is something I would have never done if I had to be around people. The isolation I experienced during the lockdown allowed me to grow this strange beard and experience the feelings that came with it. This is representative of the experiences of so many people who all of a sudden found themselves in a new situation of solitude as a result of the Covid lockdowns. For once in a lifetime, your appearance didn't have an effect on your professional life and you could just let things like beard growth go completely uncared for. As I will probably never experience this kind of isolation again, I will probably never experience the feelings of running my fingers across and through an unkempt beard as I did during the Covid-19 pandemic. -
2020-03-13
Last Costco run before shutdown
It was two days after the NBA had shut down and the first day our school district had shut down. Not sure about what was to come next (and honestly pretty scared to go) I took on last trip to Costco to buy supplies for the lockdown of unknown duration that was about to begin. The scene was chaos, with the lines running the full length of the store. The most eerie part, though, was someone who decided to “play us off” in a sort of Titanic-style farewell to our old life. Having endured the line for longer than I can remember, I chose to record the moment (which I felt would be one to remember. -
2020-07
Silence and Isolation
This is important because it speaks to the daily struggle of living through the pandemic. I was not touched by the disease itself, but my life was changed by it. My submission describes my sensory experiences of isolation during the pandemic as I moved to a new city for work. It expresses how the pandemic brought more than health issues but social issues to society as well. -
2021-07-01
A New Normal
The COVID-19 pandemic came upon our lives in what seemed a very sudden fashion, forcing us into quarantine and changing our habits. Almost suddenly, the noisy, bustling streets became empty. The sounds of cars with people commuting to work disappeared. The friendly faces I’d see at work would be traded for a face on a screen. Remaining at home gave me both a sense of security and a feeling of isolation and loneliness. During brief outings to get necessities at the grocery store, it became odd to see each other with our faces covered. There was a feeling of unease as we made our way through the aisles, doing our best to remain six feet apart. Many times, I often felt disconnected, and initially a little wary of others. Were they infected or asymptomatic? Was I? I missed seeing my friends. I missed the shared meals we would have in a busy, noisy restaurant. I missed the smell of coffee brewing at my local coffee shop while I typed away on my laptop. So many experiences that we took for granted, disappeared in an instant. Over time, this way of living became our new normal. The scent of hand sanitizer and antibacterial cleaner became a regular part of my life. Hearing the regular news reports on the rising death toll was devastating. The feeling of the mask on my face as I made brief forays out into society gave me the comfort in knowing I was protecting others in case I was an asymptomatic carrier. I still shudder at those who express the sentiment that the masks were a form of oppression. I viewed it as a small sacrifice for the benefit of the many. As we appear to be a downslope to overcoming the virus, I recently remarked to a friend about how it now feels strange to think about “getting back to normal”. Our normal has undoubtably changed. And many of us have changed with it. -
2020-09-08
First Day of School Scents
September 8, 2020 was the first day of school at my regional high school and I was beginning my third year as a teacher. As always, the night before the first day of school was marked by butterflies, but this time around, the butterflies were not due to the excitement and hecticness of the first day, but due to fear. As someone who social distanced to an extent unmatched by most of my peers, coming to school on the first day terrified me, as I was concerned with putting myself around so many other people in such a small room, specifically high school students who certainly enjoyed more social interaction over the summer than I did. However, as a teacher, I had to come in with a smile on my face, as you can see in the picture, despite the immense fear I was feeling in the pit of my stomach. What I remember most clearly is the smell of the school. The hallways were filled with hand sanitizer dispensers which released a scent that could overpower all else. Individual classrooms were packed with cleaning supplies and Lysol wipes which I had to clean each desk with between periods. What is so shocking is that more than anything, it is these smells that I associate with the fear I felt that first day of school. Though that first day was one of the most fear-inducing days of my life, the year ended up being incredibly rewarding and my students and I together helped each other through one o f the mo st difficult years of our lives. Though originally nervous to teach in 2020, I am incredibly grateful to have been able to conquer this year with my students by my side. Hopefully someday I will not have such an adverse reaction to the smell of hand sanitizer. -
2020-09-08
A Different Type of First Day of School Butterflies
September 8, 2020 was the first day of school at my regional high school and I was beginning my third year as a teacher. As always, the night before the first day of school was marked by butterflies, but this time around, the butterflies were not due to the excitement and hecticness of the first day, but due to fear. As someone who social distanced to an extent unmatched by most of my peers, coming to school on the first day terrified me, as I was concerned with putting myself around so many other people in such a small room, specifically high school students who certainly enjoyed more social interaction over the summer than I did. However, as a teacher, I had to come in with a smile on my face, as you can see in the picture, despite the immense fear I was feeling in the pit of my stomach. Though that first day was one of the most fear-inducing days of my life, the year ended up being incredibly rewarding and my students and I together helped each other through one of the most difficult years of our lives. Though originally nervous to teach in 2020, I am incredibly grateful to have been able to conquer this year with my students by my side. -
-0021-06-29
Deli Smells and Sounds
This story tells of the dramatic shift in "normalcy" that the pandemic interrupted. -
2020-05-25
First Hug in Months
My family and I have always been really close, meeting for family days as often as we can. Family gatherings will begin and end with hugs. When the pandemic started, we ensured that we isolated from everyone, even each other, as we all live in separate households and my father and sister have autoimmune diseases, and I have asthma and two heart conditions. Basically, Covid-19 was dangerous for all of us and we were afraid not only to contract it, but even more so to possibly give it to each other. While we would talk over Google Duo and Zoom, it honestly was not the same as getting to interact in person. There is huge importance and one could even say power in human contact, in human touch. It can be something that inflicts pain or reassurance. In this case, I lost the reassurance of hugs and seeing my family in person. The first time I hugged my older sister after lockdown started was about three months after lockdown began. We had both been isolated for weeks without symptoms and without having gone anywhere, and we had both tested negative for it. It had been the longest time I have gone without hugging her. I cried. -
2021-01-06
When lungs fail
I wish I had a sound of the oxygen concentrator my mom was on for a full month, but at the same time I'm glad that I don't. After spending 8 days in the ICU due to COVID, my mom was finally sent home only because the hospitals were full in the Fort Worth area, and there were other people much more sick than her. In a normal year, she would have been in there at least another week or two, but they got her a concentrator and sent her home to be taken care of by my Dad, sister, and me. The sound the small motor made, producing the oxygen my mom's lungs weren't capable of getting. The high-pitched beeps that sounded when the battery was low, or if the cannula in her nose wasn't properly placed on her face--all of it is probably permanently etched in my memory. The sound that I've submitted here is an excerpt of what a nebulizer sounds like when it's turned on. In addition to the sound of the oxygen concentrator, we'd hear this sound at least twice daily as my mom inhaled her lung medications with the nebulizer, accompanied by a lot of coughing as she recovered fully. I'm grateful that she recovered and is still doing well, but I don't think I'll ever be able to hear a sound like this without remembering what the month of January was like this year for our family. -
2020-09
The Sound of Learning - Teaching During the Pandemic
On March 12th, 2020, all of the teachers and support staff in the high school where I work in Stafford, Virginia (A suburb of Washington DC) were called down to the auditorium and told by the head principal that our school would be shut down for the next two weeks as a result of Covid-19. Long story short, I did not return into that building until January of 2021. Even though I did not enter the building, between September and December of 2020, I toiled away teaching virtually via Google Meet from my basement. Teaching online was difficult - due to privacy concerns, students were not required to turn their cameras on - and none did. For the first time, I was teaching to a class of thirty without seeing anyone other than myself. Many students did not want to ask questions by unmuting their microphones, so instead they would type out questions, make comments, tell jokes, etc through the chat feature. Each time a student would send a message, my computer would make a small beeping noise. I learned to love this noise as it was the only reminder I had that there was someone listening to me. As a teacher, forming relationships is so central to the profession. At first, it seemed impossible to be a meaningful teacher when I had no clue what my students even looked like. But every time I heard that beep, I was delighted to know that someone was on the other side of that screen. Without the fear of immediate judgement of their peers, many of my students provided commentary on the lesson and made teaching fun. When teaching in person, I hate when a student tries to talk over me, so only dealing with a tiny beep was much more manageable and it was nice to see these kids communicate with one another while separated by the pandemic. Many articles that I have read have been incredibly critical of online learning, and some with good cause. I did not reach every student. Some fell back asleep, logged in then walked away, played video games, and even one of my students admitted to me that he was taking his dog on a walk during class. But hearing that beep reminded me that there are students out there that can make connections even when it seems impossible. -
2020-08-15
Laughter is a Girl's Best Friend
The image I included shows the sense of sound. In the picture submitted my two close friends and I are laughing in a picture together. The story I am regarding with this is the fact the pandemic deprived me of hearing not only their voices in person but also their laughter. In my state we started the lockdown by late March, so all of us were not quarantining together, so the time when the pandemic was the worst was the longest, we went without seeing each other in person. Of course, like other people, we would use technology, like Facetime and Zoom. Like most other people know, Zoom is not the same as in person. So this picture shows us laughing and for the first time in a really long time to hear us all laughing was musical. I think this particular sensory history shows the importance of what a person hears from day to day, or on a regular basis. It becomes clear in times of global pandemics what gets taken for granted until it is taken away. I think when this history gets studied in years to come, historians are going to see a recharge in what people think is important. Those simple things, like a friend's laugh, were lost in the time of quarantine. -
2020-06-14
Solace in the Smell
This is a story about how hand sanitizer kept one woman hopeful during the pandemic. "Sanitation theater" was a coping mechanism used by individuals, businesses, and organizations used to convince ourselves that we were safe. So much of what we needed during the pandemic, was respite from the dread and insecurity. So much was unknown and so much felt out of control. The smell of the hand sanitizer produced by my local distillery instantly evokes the emotions I felt at the height of the pandemic -
2020-12-04
Henshin! The nostalgia wanes and reality sets in.
Overcrowded movie theaters, expensive popcorn, and escapism entertainment made for the best days as a child of the 20th century. Surrounded by an ever growing crisis of climate change, the rising political tensions domestic and foreign; nearly every issue fades away as the lights dim in a theater, directing all attention to the action set pieces of the latest blockbuster hit. Unfortunately now, there are no lights to dim, no popcorn to smell, the once intense reverberating sound and art of audio mixing, is now forced to protrude from broken TV sound bars. The magnificent subtle nuances of orchestral scores, become muffled by the yelling of neighbors. As basic and selfish as it may seem, Covid-19 served as a reminder of the unobtainable nostalgia and senses that surround my past, the art of escapism through film. In 2020 I witnessed the passing of loved ones, relationships dwindle, and ironically the comfort of escapism...has now escaped me. Movie theaters were closed, the discomfort of the slightly course and rough woven stitched seats, became a desperate dream, a return to normalcy. The artificial smell of buttered popcorn, along with the overpriced snacks, became memories of an easier past. I wrote Henshin, as a manifestation of the changes of Covid-19. It isn't necessarily that films can never be enjoyed again, but the ability to truly escape, is gone. We view, smell, feel and see things differently now. The bombastic sensation within a theater, sharing the laughs, cries and emotions with other children, is now replaced with a constant checking of watches to return again to the world. The smell of artificial flavoring may be gone forever. Loved ones will never carry us out of a theater again. The inconvenient sounds of crowds, machines, and other viewers, are now replaced with conventional house noises. Undoubtedly film will return, theaters will open up again, but the once wholesome experience from the past has changed. The families laughs have now turned to cries, quoting movies with one another has turned to editing eulogies, smells are now memories instead of new experiences. -
2020-06-26
From Noise to Silence
The Pandemic impacted everyone in different ways. Everyone's life changed in one way or another. For me, my life went from hustling and bustling to peace, silence, and alone time. Before the Pandemic, my daily routine was driving 45 minutes to work daily, frequent trips to Mexico, and I was constantly on the move. A full-time student, and part-time tutor, I was continually helping students and finding study time at my local Community College. Also, I would frequent local Starbucks often to work on my reading and writing assignments. However, when the Pandemic hit, everything changed for me. Now, instead of driving to work daily and visiting Mexico, I found myself working online, studying in my room, and not seeing anyone face to face except for immediate relatives. For the majority of the Pandemic, I did not go anywhere as I previously did. In other words, the hustling and bustling of the highway now turned into silence, the continued camaraderie between students and cow-workers now turned into silence, and just like that, my life altered to a new dimension of silence like have never experienced. -
2020-10-28
Pierogis and Kielbasa: Sound and Smell During COVID-19
Before the pandemic and the subsequent lockdowns began, hearing or seeing a loved one seemed almost a certainty. Although I worried for the safety of all my friends and family, I was most concerned with the well-being of my aging, immunocompromised grandmother. As a daughter of Eastern European immigrants, she was accustomed to eating ethnic Polish food. Throughout my childhood, she would kindly make pierogis and kielbasa sausage for me and my sister. The savory aroma of pierogis and kielbasa sausage cooking in sauerkraut inundated the senses. With the onset of the pandemic, however, my life, as with so many others, changed. Unfortunately, my grandmother is not accustomed to using video-chat services; however, hearing her voice over the phone or social-distancing on her porch allowed me to maintain contact, hear her voice, and smell the wonderful aroma of the food she always made for me as a child. Although momentary, the loss of hearing my grandmother’s voice as well as her delicious food made me realize how important it is to cherish the connections you have with your loved ones. During a time of uncertainty, tragedy, and disconnection, a loved one’s voice (as well as the food they make) can provide an emotional uplift. -
2021-07-27
Out of Touch
When I spent the Thanksgiving 2019 holiday with my family at my grandparent’s house, I had no idea that my hug goodbye would be the last hug I could share with my grandmother for a very long while. With the onset of the coronavirus pandemic, the CDC pushed multiple changes to prevent the spread of the virus which included social distancing. Both my grandparents are at high risk with underlying health conditions, so possible exposure to the virus was not an option for them. For us, social distancing also meant family distancing. Thankfully, I was able to have regular meetings with them on their front porch. We kept one of the front doors closed to separate us, and we talked from a safe distance. It was not the same as what I was used to and I missed the closeness that we once had, but they were moments to cherish as I did not know when I would get to hug them again. Sadly, I was not the only individual forced to find new ways to stay in touch with family members. All over the internet, heartbreaking pictures and videos surfaced showing families separated by hospital windows, mothers giving birth without family in the delivery room to support them and hold their new baby, and people ‘touching’ their loved one’s hands through glass barriers. These moments showed how the coronavirus left many families out of touch. Once the virus started to slow down and vaccines became accessible, I was finally able to spend more time with my grandparents without the physical barrier. Lots of people are talking about a ‘new normal’ now that cities are reopening and people are getting to go back to their lives. For me, getting to hug my grandmother again was a sign that everything would be okay, and life finally felt normal. -
2021-01-24
Coffee Shops and a Sense of Normalcy During COVID-19
When COVID-19 started affecting Kansas City, little changed at first. We wore masks, used hand sanitizer, etc., but life went on as normal otherwise. As the virus progressed, we closed our offices and I started working from home. One of my pre-COVID rituals was a trip to Broadway Cafe close to my house for a great latte or macchiato. At least this ritual was still intact. Then, the coffee shops all closed. It sounds silly to say this affected me even more than going into the office. It was my normal routine for so many years though...that a trip to the coffee shop served as an anchor for feeling life would go on, regardless of how far the virus progressed. The audio file attached is my espresso machine at home. I now buy coffee beans for the house, grind them, and pour shots of espresso to drink straight or craft into a macchiato or latte. The sound of my machine grinding beans, pressing the grounds into a puck, and then pouring into shot glasses still did not replace the coffee shop, but it did become an anchor to help me adjust when I needed it most. Today, our coffee shops are open for pickup service. Between that and still pouring my own at home, using their beans, life is good. I look forward to a post-COVID world where the local roasters and coffee shops continue to play an important role in my personal sense of normalcy and the social health of our collective neighborhoods. -
2020-05-20
Gia's Soft Fur
I will always remember the feeling of my dog Gia's soft fur and the tickle and wetness of her silky tongue licking my hand during this pandemic. These sensory experiences soothed me during a stressful and anxiety-ridden time during the COVID pandemic. When the pandemic worsened in March 2020 and the state of Utah went into a full lockdown, my family's life changed suddenly. My son's birthday party was canceled. My children began school online. My husband no longer found himself flying to New York or Los Angeles, and I found myself filled with worry and anxiety. How will my elderly parents weather this pandemic? Will I get them sick? Will I be responsible for their deaths? Will my 9-year-old son become depressed because he can no longer play hockey or football? How will my 13-year-old handle feeling emotionally isolated because she can no longer hang out with her friends? All of these worries plagued my mind and made my body stiff, my neck sore, my mood heavy with stress. My family soon found ourselves in a new routine. We spent more quality time together since we were no longer rushing to get to activities. There was more time for dinner and meaningful conversation. However, there was still a heaviness, and everything seemed to be wrapped in a layer of anxiety. An unexpected text from my sister-in-law (who is an animal control officer) changed our lives. A darling 3-year-old black and white miniature poodle had just been dropped off at the shelter. Her elderly owner had died of COVID-19, and this sweet dog needed a home. After a quick family meeting, it was unanimous; we wanted the dog! Gia immediately became more than a pet; she became a source of comfort and calm to me. With a sweet temperament, she always seemed to know when I was full of anxiety. Each night I would sit on the couch watching the nightly news, my body tight and sore, the rigidness seeping into my muscles that comes with prolonged stress. Unaware at first that I was even doing it, I would reach for Gia, who would lay close to me, and begin stroking her fur. Often, her silky pink tongue would lick my hand, and the combination soothed and relaxed my body. Even as worry began to swirl in my mind, the questions continuing: when will it be our turn to catch this virus? Will I have lasting effects from it? Gia was there, her warm body lying beside mine, her soft fur between my fingers relaxing my body and easing my mind. During this COVID-19 pandemic, I had read that almost all the rescue dogs had been adopted across the nation. I guess I was not the only person in need of emotional comfort during this isolating time. This pandemic has taken an emotional toll on everyone I know. I feel so grateful that Gia came into our lives during this pandemic. This sweet dog has become more than a pet. She has become an emotional support dog for my daughter when she is lonely and a physical companion for my son when he needs to run crazy through the house. Gia is there when my nerves are frazzled from worry about the pandemic. She gently lays her warm body next to mine, as if knowing I need her near me to ease my anxiety. I stroke her soft fur, close my eyes, and remind myself to BREATHE. -
2020-03-01
Daily life at an Air Force Major Command
Daily life at Head Quarters (HQ) Air Force Global Strike Command (AFGSC) before COVID-19 and its restrictions was full of sounds and constant movement. It was customary to walk the halls and hear keypads beeping, and door locks clicking or overhear conversations as you pass people in the halls. Meetings were full of people, and the subtle roar of conversation was only stopped by the entrance of a General officer or other meeting chairpeople. As the restrictions for COVID-19 began to roll across the country, AFGSC was quick to implement them. First came a stop movement for personnel and a restriction of movements. There would be no or severely limited Permeant Change of Stations, and all temporary duty (TDY) was canceled for the foreseeable future. All personnel was to limit their office spaces to allow for six feet of distances and, if not capable of initiating telework procedures (which was an accomplishment in itself). This was the moment that life changed at HQ AFGSC. There would be fewer beeps and clicks. There would be no hallway conversations overheard because the hallways were nearly empty on a day-to-day basis. There were no more in-person meetings resulting in the muting of the subtle roars of conversations and the sudden silences created as meetings started. However, there was a new element created from COVID-19, a smell everywhere you went. Cleaning and self-sanitization ramped up at AFGSC. Every office you entered now had a hand sanitization station on a post or a wall. The restrooms and common areas cleaning increased, resulting in a lasting scent of bleach and other strong cleaners. But still, the most surprising thing was the silence that COVID-19 created in an ordinarily bustling Command. -
2021-01
An Old Gray Piece of Cloth
Gabriel Rheaume’s Sensory history contribution to COVID-19 Archive I would like to submit my gray, cotton face mask to the COVID-19 Archive. It is perhaps not as the most important item, but certainly it is the most present item for me throughout this pandemic. At almost a full year into this adventure, everyone has a keen familiarity with and opinion of face masks. I got this one as a gift. It feels about the same as getting socks on Christmas, except more useful. I have used this thing every single day unless I forget it—which sends me into a chaotic panic. I am a teacher in a suburb of Nashville, TN. Our school district insists on teaching in person, despite having alarmingly high infection rates in our community. This mask is now part of my daily uniform, a non-negotiable. It serves as a role model for students. A sign that their health is of paramount concern to us. It is part of everything I do. I have dozens of paper replacements in my desk. Those aren’t as good. They straps hurt your ears. The cloth ones are better, more comfortable. I thought about getting one with my favorite band’s logo, but I am going to stick with this old reliable gray, cotton mask. The smell of this mask will haunt me the rest of my life. I wash it multiple times per week. It often smells like laundry detergent. That is a good thing. However, by the end of the day it often smells like whatever I had for lunch. The masks gets hot. It is blasted with my carbon dioxide for eight hours straight. It gets really bad when I have to lecture during the day. When you inhale sharply to talk, it sucks in the material. I’ve learned how to breathe differently when I have the mask on. Sometimes I just pinch the end and hold it with my fingers while I talk. I can rarely take it off. I panic if I forget to put it on when I leave my classroom to go anywhere. Who would have ever thought this little cloth mask would be so important? I often doubt that it is effective at preventing the spread or contraction of infection. I am certainly NOT an anti-masker. But it’s a piece of cloth. I guess that it’s better than nothing. This gray cotton face mask, sometimes imbued with the glorious smell of fresh linen in the breeze or Last night’s roast and mashed potatoes has become a source of loathing and resentment, but simultaneously an anti-viral security blanket (if only in my imagination). Yet, I can’t wait to get rid of this vile thing. -
2021-01-09
Lionel Trains & Billy Joel
Last Saturday night, my folks came to visit, bringing beef stew and, yet another birthday gift for our now 3 year daughter Lennon (her birthday was a week before and they’d already showered her with gifts at that time). Of course, we’ve kept a very close circle since March last year, and that has become increasingly more important since, now my wife is 8 months pregnant, son on the way. Our reality being quite different from the norm this past year is of course, not unique to us, but had Covid not been a thing, last Saturday night, it can be counted on, that we would have been at a boisterous gathering, hosted by family members of one side or the other. My wife’s family and my own; they’re strong in numbers and lack modesty, but not volume. We miss that, but the small, quieter gatherings that the necessity of the moment has brought moments that might have been missed. That’s too much of a lead in, so I’ll make the point more brief, When my parents came, the oven cleaner was burning off. My wife and mother brought attention to it. But the smell brought me back to my childhood. That’s exactly what I said, and I looked at my dad, because I knew that he’d be the one that knew what I was talking about, though I wasn’t necessarily sure what I was talking about. This briefly interrupted our trying to construct a Troll castle (with way too many tiny parts!) or something, that my parents had just gotten for their granddaughter. But then, dad said, “Lionel Trains” That was it! The toy trains on the track that my father, brother and I used to do when we were kids. It brought us back, that was the smell. It’s probably not healthy, but it was a really nice moment. Ok, that made me think of a time that my brother recognized a smell from childhood. I was like 12, my brother 14, I think it was my first concert. My father had taken us to see Billy Joel at the Spectrum in Philadelphia, we had fun. After the show, walking through the parking lot to the car, my brother said, “What’s that smell? I remember it from when we were little.” My dad said, “That’s pot.” -
2021-01-14
The Silencing of Industry
The sensory experience that overwhelmed me the most as the United States, and the world, came to an abrupt halt when it was realized that we were in a pandemic virus outbreak was an aural experience—it was the overwhelming silence that came with the world stopping. I live in a heavy industrial town on the Pacific coast Of Washington. While I live about fifty miles from the cities and one hundred miles from Seattle the economy of this area is based around heavy industry and there is constant noise that comes with this. There is a port a mile from my house that is said to be the busiest deep-water port on the northwest coast. At this port soybeans, wheat, oil and lumber are shipped out and German cars built in Mexico are brought in, among other commodities. In my neighborhood there are four train tracks. The closest one is about five hundred feet from my house, the next three are another three hundred feet further. Those train tracks bring goods into the port like soybeans and wheat from the farm fields west of the Cascade mountains and fuel and oil for the ships and for the operations at the port. The train tracks also ship out the cars that come in from Mexico to car dealerships throughout the Northwest. Across from the four train tracks there are lumber mills. The lumber mills load up chip trucks (trucks that carry sawdust from the sawmills to paper mills) and the chip trucks roll in and out of town on a constant basis. The log trucks also roll through town on a constant basis and the log truck drivers as well as chip truck drivers live in the area and park their trucks at their houses. All of this leads to a very noisy area for such a small population. This has never bothered me as the only thing that I really miss about living in cities is the noise. This is the reason why the first thing I noticed as the Covid-19 shut down occurred was how much silence there was. No longer were there log trucks and chip trucks rolling through town. No longer was the rumbling and squelch of the train heard in the early morning and the late afternoon throughout the town. No longer were the airhorns and warning sirens heard from the port. It was just pure silence. -
2020-01-14
A Peppermint December
December was the most stressful month of the year. My entire family got Covid-19 right before Christmas and I was struggling with anxiety for most of the month, which has been compounded by the pandemic. One of the ways I've sought to alleviate stress when going to bed at night is by putting peppermint essential oil in an oil diffuser as I fall asleep. Peppermint smells and feels naturally calming to me. The strong and comforting scent has at times made me feel that I can breathe better and easier. A small and perhaps cliché remedy has at times made a world of difference. -
2021-06-14
Embracing the Plants
Once the pandemic was in full swing, food became rather scarce out in the county where I live. Frozen meals? Gone. Frozen vegetables? Gone. Meat? Gone. Dairy products? Sparse. What I could find in abundance were fresh fruit and vegetables. Largely because these do not store long term and people were stocking up on everything that they could hoard for the long haul. Could I really sustain my meat-loving family of 4 on fresh fruits and vegetables to help stretch our very thin stock of meats and dairy products? I have included some basic recipes that I used to help get through the pandemic. This massive change in diet left a lasting impact on my experience of the pandemic through my sense of smell, taste, and hearing. Meals no longer smelled like warm cooked meat with roasting potatoes. Meals became light and fresh. My house began smelling more like a garden every time I prepared a meal. I also no longer smelled the warmth of the stove or the smell of a pan heating up, since we chose to eat a lot of the plants and fruits in a more raw style to get the maximum nutritional value. The taste of meals and snacks changed from processed foods to natural snacks like nuts, dates, and dried fruit. I could taste the change from the pandemic. Everyday noises that would occur in my pre-pandemic household were no longer present in my pandemic household. No longer was there the sound of the oven turning on, the microwave running, or oil popping in the pan on the stove top. Instead, the new normal sounds were that of the food processor to make hummus, the sound of the blender making smoothies, and the sharp tap of the knife colliding with the cutting board. The recipes I chose to include are ones that we started with that have changed the way we eat. These were the easiest to sustain with readily available produce in my rural area. -
2020-11-02
Cold in the Classroom
If you have ever been in a middle school classroom, feeling cold is probably not the first thing that you think of. One might think of rowdy kids, perhaps non-inviting smells, stuffy air, but not necessarily the feeling of cold. After going home on March 13, 2020, I was forced to work remotely for the remainder of the 2019-20 school year due to the COVID-19 pandemic. It is still crazy to think how quickly everything changed from normal life to the furthest thing from it—just two days before the end of in-person schooling, I was still planning on going on the eighth grade Washington, DC trip! Anyway, going into the 2020-21 school year, because teachers were allowed to return to their classrooms (even though school would remain in distance for the foreseeable future), I decided that I would go into my classroom and work from there. I figured that it would help create a sense of normalcy in my own life while offering a familiar background to my students. After a few d ays of w orking from school without any students, I noticed how cold it was in my classroom. On a normal school day, I would turn on the air conditioning fairly early in the morning, being that the room would become warm and stuffy shortly after the students arrived. Even with it warm outside, I was noticing myself running the heater well into the afternoon. Without the heater, my classroom would quickly become unbearably cold! With brick walls and only a thin layer of carpet over a concrete floor, it is clear why it was so cold. I was just one person in a room that would normally have around 30—my body heat alone wasn't going to heat up the room! It is amazing to think that a silly little thing like the temperature of my classroom kind of got me down. No matter what I did to try and simulate normal life, it was just impossible for life to be normal, and that nagging cold was there to remind me of that fact. Just writing this down, I can feel the cold on my arms and legs, and I have a n urge to go and get a blanket, put on a sweatshirt, or turn on the heater. Come to think about it, I can also feel the pain in my lower back from sitting in front of a computer all day! In addition to the sense of touch/feeling being noticeably different, I have to say, the absence of, shall we say, interesting smells has also been out of the ordinary for my middle school classroom. I really cannot complain all too much when it comes to my experiences during the COVID-19 pandemic; I am lucky enough to still be employed, I can work at home if I wanted to, and no one all too close to me has had the disease. A great many people around the globe have had their lives shattered in the past year, so I really should be counting my blessings. With that said, I feel as if the coldness of my classroom somewhat symbolizes the isolation that I (and many others) are feeling during this trying time. The simple fact that there are not 30+ individuals in the room is causing the cold and, again, it is a nagging reminder that the world is simply not the same as it was a year ago, no matter how much we wish it were. -
2020-04-13
School Bells and Silence
In late March, families in Portland, OR were told to prepare themselves for children to finish their school year from home. While my husband and I don’t have kids, we live across the street from an elementary school and enjoy hearing the children play as we go about our life at home. I loved hearing their laughter and giggles as they lined up outside of their classroom doors or the screeches that filled the air as they tore out of the doors for some much needed recess time on the playground. Then, on April 13, 2020, the laughter, the hollering, the clangs of playground equipment stopped. Up until that point, I could set my personal schedule by the sounds of that playground and now those sounds were gone. The quietness that remained behind was made even more eerie by the daily bells that rang from the school’s outdoor intercom system to signify the start of the day, end of recess, etc.. The tones that were barely audible on a normal day due to all of the commotion on the playground were suddenly a very loud, and real reminder that the world was different. It took the school nearly two months to turn off those alarms and every single day for those two months, at 8:25, 11:45, 12:15, and 2:25, those bells echoed throughout the neighborhood reminding everyone how much our world had truly changed. The alarm bells are now off and have been for nearly 6 months. It’s very quiet at the school. While we’ve all gotten used to the silence, every so often a family will head to the playground and, for a minute as the sounds of a child’s laughter drifts through the windows of my house, I remember what it was like before COVID and am suddenly slammed back into the reality of what our day to day lives have become. I can’t wait to hear those happy voices again - it will mean our lives are back to whatever new normal is on the other side of this pandemic. -
2021-01-15
The old gray mask
I would like to submit my gray, cotton face mask to the COVID-19 Archive. It is perhaps not as the most important item, but certainly it is the most present item for me throughout this pandemic. At almost a full year into this adventure, everyone has a keen familiarity with and opinion of face masks. I got this one as a gift. It feels about the same as getting socks on Christmas, except more useful. I have used this thing every single day unless I forget it—which sends me into a chaotic panic. I am a teacher in a suburb of Nashville, TN. Our school district insists on teaching in person, despite having alarmingly high infection rates in our community. This mask is now part of my daily uniform, a non-negotiable. It serves as a role model for students. A sign that their health is of paramount concern to us. It is part of everything I do. I have dozens of paper replacements in my desk. Those aren’t as good. They straps hurt your ears. The cloth ones are better, more comfortable. I thought about getting one with my favorite band’s logo, but I am going to stick with this old reliable gray, cotton mask. The smell of this mask will haunt me the rest of my life. I wash it multiple times per week. It often smells like laundry detergent. That is a good thing. However, by the end of the day it often smells like whatever I had for lunch. The masks gets hot. It is blasted with my carbon dioxide for eight hours straight. It gets really bad when I have to lecture during the day. When you inhale sharply to talk, it sucks in the material. I’ve learned how to breathe differently when I have the mask on. Sometimes I just pinch the end and hold it with my fingers while I talk. I can rarely take it off. I panic if I forget to put it on when I leave my classroom to go anywhere. Who would have ever thought this little cloth mask would be so important? I often doubt that it is effective at preventing the spread or contraction of infection. I am certainly NOT an anti-masker. But it’s a piece of cloth. I guess that it’s better than nothing. This gray cotton face mask, sometimes imbued with the glorious smell of fresh linen in the breeze or Last night’s roast and mashed potatoes has become a source of loathing and resentment, but simultaneously an anti-viral security blanket (if only in my imagination). Yet, I can’t wait to get rid of this vile thing. -
2020-05
The Sound of Silence
The experience I am sharing focuses on my sense of hearing. Work has shifted away from office buildings and into our homes and, as a result, downtown urban areas emptied. This was especially true in mid-May of 2020. The one time I was in my city's downtown, it was uncomfortably quiet, and the negative reaction I had in the moment caught me off guard. Covid19 put me in a constant state of anxiety, and this is one more example of how seemingly small differences in a familiar environment can turn us upside down. -
01/15/2021
Parker Talbot Oral History, 2021/01/15
A self-account of the exploding market of hand sanitizer and the smell thereof -
2020-04
Banana Muffins
When the pandemic began, the company I work for sent us all to work from home. While I did some baking and cooking before, I took it upon myself to grow and learn more. Plus, in the office we usually had some sort of food available, and now I had to provide that for myself. I began looking up recipes to make at home that were fast and easy, yet really good. I stumbled on this recipe and now it is my go to recipe. The smell from them baking and after they come out of the oven is great, and they don't take too much time. The smell lingers in the house the rest of the day as well, and the I love the flavor of these muffins. -
2021-01-14T18:43:30
The Sounds, Smells, and Experiences of a COVID Graduation
As the year 2020 ushered in my family and I had many events we were looking forward to, one event was my son’s high-school graduation. Once COVID hit his ceremony got postponed, and then it was turned into a drive-thru graduation ceremony. I felt happy my son’s graduation ceremony was still happening, but sad for both my son and me too. Since, my son would miss out on the traditional aspects of a high-school graduation ceremony, and I felt sad for myself because I did not get to attend my own high-school graduation; so it had meant a lot to me to see him experience what I did not get to at a traditional high-school graduation ceremony. On the day of my son’s drive-thru graduation ceremony, I was driving and my hands were dry and slippery from the hand sanitizer, I constantly put on for protection from COVID, both factors therefore made it hard to focus totally on the visuals of the event; and also impacted my ability to get a lot of video and pictures at the event. These circumstances I feel made me fixate on all the sounds and smells just as much as the visuals in front of me while experiencing the graduation. While waiting in the car line to get to the graduation stage the graduation speeches were streamed from a local radio station. The speeches I heard given by chosen student speakers referenced at times the sadness they felt due to the senior events cancelled due to COVID. When usually speakers at graduations express sadness, but the class of 2020 had a unique sadness and that is the effects COVID had on their senior year. As my son and I approached the commencement stage we both put our masks on, the smells of my car were replaced by the stale air I breathed within my mask that I had become all too familiar with since the start of COVID. My son got out of the car to walk across the commencement stage. The sounds I heard from the car were kind of distant, and made me feel like I was watching the ceremony from a different location. At the end of the day, while watching my son walk across the graduation stage, all my feelings and different observations before the event subsided and I felt nothing but proud of my son. Along with I felt grateful for the people who put together the graduation, for some of the unique sensory experiences I may not have focused on as much in pre-COVID times, and for the event since it could have been canceled because of COVID. If anything COVID implications provided many unique aspects to my son’s graduation ceremony that may come to give more meaning to it in the long run then a traditional graduation ceremony. The video clip I submitted is one of a few captured memories I have of the graduation; and it’s an example of the distant sounds of the graduation I heard while viewing it from my car. -
2020-04-03
The Game of COVID Life
During the quarantine, my wife and I were having a hard time trying to adjust to our jobs being remote. We were not used to staring at computer screens for 8+ hours. The feeling of stress was overwhelming. I’m sure everyone in the world can relate to this experience. We really needed something to raise our spirits after time passed by and the world was still shut down. When my wife and I first got married in 2019, we had a problem of spending money on board games of all kinds. We ended up with a collection of 47 board games by the time COVID started (we began our marriage with about 12 board games). The thing is, with our jobs (my wife being a Public Library Administrator and I being a teacher and coach), we hardly had time to play some except a few. Who would have thought that we were unknowingly preparing for a quarantine. Our collection helped us escape reality for a bit each time we played. Game nights became a regular occurrence and we still hold them to this day. We were able to connect more as a couple and strengthen our relationship. The sounds of dice being rolled, cards being shuffled, and game pieces being moved remind me how board games helped us cope with the unexpected changes in our lives and recharge our batteries to keep going forward. -
2020-11-26
Thanksgiving Dressing Connection
My family Thanksgiving's have featured a wide variety of fare throughout the years. The one constant, the one dish that has always made an appearance is dressing. The recipe is a family one that originated with my great-grandmother, a wonderful woman who lived to the ripe old age of 102. Known across the extended family as the Queen of the Kitchen, her legacy lives on through the recipes she left behind. This Thanksgiving was more difficult than any I can remember. Out of the twenty-four Thanksgiving's I have been alive to see, I have never spent one without my sister. Now, she lives a state away and health concerns surrounding my 93-year old grandmother kept my sister away. COVID-19 drastically changed the mood of the holiday, but one dish still had to be cooked. You guessed it, dressing. Ingredients: 10 baked biscuits 2-3 cups of baked yellow cornbread 1 loaf of toasted bread 1 1/2 cup chopped onion 2 cup chopped celery 1 cup celery tops 1 tablespoon sage 1 tablespoon poultry seasoning 2 cups water 1 cup chicken boullion 2 eggs Salt and pepper to taste Original Directions: Break bread into small pieces. Set aside. Put all remaining ingredients except eggs in a saucepan. Boil till celery and onions are tender. Pour over bread mixture and toss. (Add more liquid if it needs to have more water. Cool. Add eggs. Mix lightly. Put in greased pan - Bake 300 degrees for 30 minutes. -
2020-04-27
COVID-19 and Daycare
I worked at a daycare in Hoover, Alabama for 5 years that provided care to over 200 children. When the state went on lockdown, our numbers dwindled down to 60 as we were only allowing children of first responders to stay. All other children were either left to their parents, babysitters, family, friends, etc. I was a lead infant teacher for babies 6-12 months. I normally have about 10 but on my first day of work after lockdown was initiated, I only had 2 and that instantly meant less noise. I have a schedule I keep but each activity lasted half the time it normally does. It gave the babies more time to play and explore but for me, I had to begin the process of deep cleaning. We were issued new cleaning products and if there was a time when you weren't busy with children, you had to clean. We kept our masks on all day for the children's sake but it limited my breathing since I wasn't used to wearing one. Add that to new, stronger cleaning products and it makes for a difficult day. I experienced the normal smells of infant care that I have for the last 5 years but the new, stronger cleaning smells altered my olfactory system. I was worried how the babies and I would react to it after we've been exposed to the chemicals for a long period of time. We weren't allowed to open our doors or windows so the smell stayed with us all day. It gave me headaches and made my babies cranky. It was a learning process with the new sanitizing methods and we all finally got a rhythm down and requested that we be allowed to open our windows and doors while cleaning. It helped us keep our kids and ourselves healthier and more conscientious about our cleaning habits. With less children around, we were able to clean thoroughly and get everything in order but it felt less like a daycare without all the noise. We worked diligently so that when lockdown was over, we could welcome back our loud and crazy kids to a new, sanitized environment. -
2020-01-13
Sensory history submissions and the COVID-19 Pandemic
I am teaching HST 643 Global History at Arizona State University during the Spring A semester of 2021. For the second time, I am asking enrolled students to submit a sensory history story related to the pandemic. The students were instructed to read at least the introduction of Melanie Kiechle's Smell Detectives before posting their story. This way, they would have a better understanding of what sensory history is and why it matters. I revised the instructions this time to push students toward non-visual stories. -
2021-01-12
Sounds of nature over while civilization takes a break
In Hawaii, especially on the island of Kauai there were so many tourist that near the roads and tourist shops and restaurants you most heard traffic or people, and in the evenings live entertainment for tourists. Now, in the mornings you can hear birds and at night the crickets. -
2021-01-11
Pizza and The Old Stone Church
Lockdown restrictions to indoor dining at restaurants, which prevents friends from gathering and socializing in familiar locations.