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  2023-03-30

  Dancing In The Face Of Uncertainty

  My family and I were shown immense grace as the world endured the heart wrenching sorrow of the COVID-19 pandemic. May those whose lives were stolen by the coronavirus live forever in memory, and rest in eternal peace. At the onset of my second Freshman semester, the chatter among friends included ignorant musings such as: "what would happen if we got it?”, and my favorite, “the virus would NEVER come to the island.” Before Costco lines evoked Walmart on Black Friday, and up-to-the-minute death tolls became the linchpin of our media diet, the Bayonne Bridge signified a seemingly impenetrable chasm safeguarding Staten Island from a quarantined cruise ship in February 2020; because obviously airborne particles don’t pay tolls, right? A strange sense of wonder and excitement overtook the CSI campus on March 11, 2020: the day Gov. Cuomo announced CUNY & SUNY schools would “pause” in-person instruction. I'll never forget hearing the announcement on radio before walking to class for the last time until September 20, 2021. As I drove down Loop Road, a group of students (presumably upperclassman) cheered while blasting music on the Great Lawn. If those students truly were upperclassman, their dancing in the face of uncertainty would spite the commencement celebration they would never receive. I suspect a webpage and some pre-recorded speeches is an inutile stand-in for sitting among thousands of graduates on that very lawn. In tandem with devastation, panic, and uncertainty, the pandemic thrust society into a hard reset. So much of life is spent planning, yearning, and working towards the future - all of which are meaningless novelties to a hellacious virus. To survive the pandemic, besides evading COVID by way of masks, social distancing, and grace from above, each of us had to sift the remnants of our livelihoods to make out what our “new” present would look like. I thrived through the pandemic with music blasting, self-reflection, and a sense of liberation. Family bonds grew stronger, passion projects were completed, and for the first time in a decade, my life felt tranquil. I am repulsed by the fact that while millions took their final breath, businesses shuttered for good, and anxiety tormented the world, I found inner peace reminiscent of my childhood summers. Eerily, I vividly recall sitting in the basement of 2N during a 8am Geology class wishing for, “all this crap to end”, and lamenting, “why didn’t I go to SNHU or some college online?” I guess someone got their wish, and dragged humanity down with him. My father was the only non-essential worker in the house; he didn’t get that fancy paper from the state which supposedly let you free if cops pulled you over. We spent the first full day of lockdown scouring local stores for the coveted (and effective) N95 masks. At a time when the CDC told people to not wear masks so medical professionals had supplies, we were on a mission to guarantee we had protection for the long haul. My family recognized that the “pause” would not be a 1 to 2 month patty cake. My father was adamant his Window Cleaning & Power Washing business would collapse from the indefinite closures of his commercial clients. Our first purchase was the last 3-pack of Milwaukee N95s with those gaudy exterior respirators from homespun Garber’s Hardware. The ever-jovial gentlemen behind the counter adamantly said something to the effect of, “we’re gonna be here ’till they tell us to shut them doors.” 3 masks wouldn’t cut it, so we continued down the way to ye olde Sherwin Williams; where the employee had no suspicion we needed a 20-count box of 3M's finest for anything other than some recreational spray painting. Mask wearing wasn’t en vogue just yet. Those masks were needed when my Uncle could not get out of bed at 1:30pm the following Saturday. He worked the night prior, Friday the 13th, at his second job as a bouncer in Manhattan. On Saturdays he would saunter out of bed by 10:45 the latest; but here he was: frozen in bed, voice hoarse, and coughing like a smoker. I threw on the 95 and nitrile gloves just to speak to him from the hallway. That day was also the first time I ventured out in full biohazard regalia. I still remember the condescending scowls at my neighborhood’s second rate deli counter. The treatment advice the CDC hotline provided was to load up on Extra Strength Tylenol and guzzle water like there was no tomorrow. Thankfully my Uncle did see tomorrow and recovered in about 5 days. While my Dad and I kept our distance as my mother tended to the patient, we realized there must be a fruitful pastime besides burying our eyes in CNN coverage all day. My father, perpetually seeking the next project, came to the realization that, in plain english: we needed a pool table. When I was 6 years old, my father built a pool table out of wood when he was working for a contracting firm that operated in what is now Brooklyn’s Industry City. At 9 feet It conveniently sat atop our giant dinning room table. It was a gorgeous deep blue with every authentic accoutrement short of nicotine-reeking cloth. The table lasted about 8 months until my mom wanted her dining room back, fair enough. For a long time that table felt like a fever dream. After the it departure it was seldom mentioned; the balls and commemorative Coca-Cola cuestick sat dormant in the far reaches of our old home. The biggest hurdle to this project was space. The only feasible location was the unfurnished room in the back of our basement. The room experienced iterations as a screen-print emulsion lab, woodshop, actual chocolate factory, punching bag area, and video recording studio. After countless YouTube tutorials, including a Filipino gentleman building an unleveled table where all balls rolled to one side, we ventured to Lowe’s “Indoor Lumber Yard” to rekindle the magic of 2007. We sourced only the finest un-warped 2x4s and the purest synthetic wood crafted by the hands of man: Unfinished MDF Board. The 97 inch composite wouldn't fit down the basement stairwell, so we asked the one employee not running from us to cut it down the middle. Our makeshift table now presented two unique considerations: first, the board had to be precisely glued back together, and second, did you know commercial lumber dimensions are several inches off the actual product size? And in case you were not aware, “real” pool tables are made of slate. Breaking ground on March 19th, we used our decommissioned 20-year-old kitchen table as legs for our new creation. The board’s overhang allowed pockets to sit freely (no ball return system needed). On the days I had online class, my father intended to go downstairs “for about an hour” in the morning, before getting stuck in a jam by lunch, and working until dinner. I would assist in between classes, and when I was free, we’d get caught up in the room for hours on end. With Music Choice and MTV Classic the soundtrack of our toil, my Dad and I measured “tournament standard” dimensions - only to be slightly off, argued about what the heck a 142 degree cut really is, and savored the aromatics of wood glue and contact cement. The room was coated in sawdust, with scrap wood scattered neatly about. I was finally involved in my dad’s carpentry prowess after years of staring at his convoluted tools. Have you heard a Mitter saw in action? The grinding of the spiraling blades drown your ears with the screams of a motorcycle whizzing through a tunnel. I’d wince in fear that the time would come when the blade’s “SHING” would be followed by an agonized scream. My dad made mention of how woodshop teachers were always missing an appendage. He even shared horror stories like the time the blade guard failed to engage on a circular saw, skid free, peeled the side of his boot, cut through floor tiles, and sputtered wildly until it sliced the power cord. When I did schoolwork upstairs while listening to SiriusXM (another pandemic coping tool) I regularly heard my dad belt obscenities en español louder than both of our blaring radios. The table was declared playable at 8pm on Monday March 30th. I know this because the music on tv tuned to a channel recording CRADLE 2 THE GRAVE (I DVR’d many movies during lockdown). The table is not 100% complete, and has some quirks which challenge you to be a better player. We practiced and played on that table at least an hour a day everyday until in-person classes began to cloud my schedule. Under lockdown, my family spent days and nights hanging out in the backyard, barbecuing and laughing loudly, before we capped the night with rounds of pool. In homage to the California Spring Break shelved by the obvious, I burned a best of California Hip-Hop Mix CD to play on our old stereo that found new life in the pool room. As New York overcame the epicenter phase, the laid back qualities of spring carried into the summer and fall. Everyday felt like a celebration of life. People were out in parks and open spaces, roads were traffic free, and in my case, I was able to hold the people I love closer. I wish everyone could have experienced the “new normal” as I did - with their own sense of peace. Don’t get me wrong, I have loved ones who no longer walk this earth because of the pandemic, and myself and my entire family experienced onset and lingering side effects from both the vaccine and the coronavirus. I do not think I would have survived contracting COVID as I did in May 2022 if I was not vaccinated. I look back at my lockdown experience so fondly because I choose to focus on the joyous moments in the midst of global tragedy. Perspective is key. Perhaps I was forsaken the “true college experience”. I know for sure I was afraid of COVID. I only stoped wearing my N95s after having them for 12 hours straight while coughing phlegm from the virus. I feel a sense of sorrow and shame when people tell me the lockdown screwed them mentally; regardless of whether or not they lost someone. But what did I get out of the pandemic? A furnished room, an unbroken streak of Straight A’s, an endless summer with those close to me - and at what cost? I’m still the same shoddy pool player after three years of practice. What the lockdown gave me, more than anything, was the one thing that is unequivocally fleeting in this life: time. Maybe in hindsight, those revelers on the Great Lawn had the right idea.
• 2020-03-06

  March of 2020

  March of 2020 is one of the most memorable dates in my life. I was a junior in high school, and news of COVID-19 spreading throughout the United States was increasingly growing. I remember being on a bus with people who went to my high school after our school's girls basketball team played a game a couple hours away from where our school was. Our team lost in a close regional finals game, so the ride back home was somewhat gloomy. I remember people behind me talking about this new virus, now COVID-19, and I heard them say, "I hope it doesn't come to Ohio." This moment is engrained in my mind because just a couple weeks later, the whole world went into lockdown, and I missed out on the rest of my junior year of high school. It is somewhat weird to think about how back in the earlier days of the pandemic, everyone was confused and worried about what COVID-19 was, and now, it is just a normal aspect of our lives today.
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  2022-07-02

  Taking Care of My Grandma During COVID

  This is a story of taking care of my grandma during COVID. A lot of the time I was employed as a caretaker for my grandma overlapped with the height of COVID.
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  2022-06-26

  Memories

  This is an Instagram post from janelhickox. It is about a COVID wedding, and part of the wedding included masks with the couple's date.
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  2021-04-08

  Cocomelon or Blippi

  In the early stages of COVID, I was in Utah finishing up my Bachelor’s. Finally, after reuniting with my sister’s family in Washington, not only did I have a hard time adjusting to the noise, I had to deal with the 24/7 nonstop routine of my nieces and nephews watching either Cocomelon or Blippi. We can’t even have a movie night because the kids will end up crying to change the movie to Cocomelon or Blippi. Night and Day, my nieces and nephews would be singing to the nursery rhymes on Cocomelon or the opening song of Blippi. Although there were times when I would get annoyed or frustrated watching the same thing on the television, I am grateful for these moments. After spending many years on my own, I am thankful and blessed to be with my family during these times. In the end, it became a routine for me and my nieces and nephews to watch Cocomelon or Blippi in the evening. Not only do I get to see their sweet smiles, but I also get to hear their cute little chuckles and laughter while singing “The Wheels On The Bus” or spelling Blippi’s name. The noise that I once had a hard time adjusting to and the overbearing sound of the nursery rhymes from cocomelon or blippi's name did not matter as their sweet laughs and chuckles filled the house every evening making COVID quarantine bearable.
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  2021-05-24

  A Glimpse of Masked Goodbyes

  Ever since I was a kid, I waited for the day I would get to walk across the stage inside a huge stadium to receive my diploma, with my family and friends watching. That day did not turn out quite as expected. My senior year began in August of 2020, during the height of COVID. No one knew when or if we would be going back to school in person. We lost football games, homecoming, the senior trip, and almost two semesters of getting to spend time in class with friends. We missed out on finally being a senior. All we could hope for was to be able to have more than a drive-thru graduation. Our class was lucky enough to be able to go back to school for a few months and we got to have an in-person graduation on the football field. Even though there were only just under 200 students per day over the course of our 4-day graduation ceremonies, it was definitely an experience I will never forget. I was grateful that I got to walk across that stage with my family watching. I was grateful that I got to watch my friends who I have known for years, and with who I began this journey, get their diplomas as well. This photo encapsulates the moment that we had officially graduated. As we went in for a masked-up embrace, I thought about so much I had to go through to get to that moment. All of the highs, lows, long nights up studying, fun school events, losing friends who were near and dear to my heart, and making it through what is supposed to be the best year of high school during a worldwide pandemic. It was a bittersweet moment, marking the end of one journey, but the start of the next. I do not know what the future holds, but I hope to never have to experience more masked goodbyes.
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  2020-09-09

  Taoist Priest Honours China's Coronavirus Dead With Memorial Tablets

  In China, there are only a small number of state-approved religions. Taoism, or Daoism, is one of the approved religions. As COVID-19 began in China, many were quickly infected and died as it was a new virus about which little was known. This article discusses how a Taoist priest in China honors those who died of COVID-19. Taoism, as a religion, has a unique history as originally the religion began as a philosophy. Thus, there are very unique ways of thinking in the heavily philosophical religion. Memorializing the dead is extremely important in Taoism, because as the article relays, true death within the system of Taoism only occurs when one is completely forgotten. In order to make sure people are remembered, the priests create memorial tablets for the dead.
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  2020-12-09T17:33

  First Year of Marriage and the Pandemic

  I got married on May 11, 2019. There were no masks and no need to distance from each other. In July 2019, I got my first job working for my grandma as her caretaker. Since I had graduated ASU, I didn't have much going on, and I needed some way to occupy myself, as well as make money. I did things such as picking the oranges that would fall from the trees in her backyard and trash them so the area would look nicer. I cooked, I cleaned, and I assisted her in computer tasks that she didn't understand how to do. In December of 2019, my grandma had a few unfortunate things happen to her. First, she got pneumonia and had to be taken to the emergency room. She survived, but was weak. Later on, she ended up falling, and was then taken to a care center so that she could regain her strength and do physical therapy. When my grandma came back from the care center in January, I had a new job. Learning from what the physical therapist taught me, I used the exercise recommendations for her and helped her walk better again. It was no easy task, as my grandma can be quite stubborn, but luckily, she was willing to take direction from me in order to move around easier. We have been doing the physical therapy as part of her daily routine ever since. Due to my grandma's worsening condition, my mom and dad decided to move to my grandma's house in January, leaving the apartment mostly to me and my husband. This change was greatly welcomed, and it felt like we could experience married life without my family intervening nearly as much. Overall, January was a pretty good month for me and my husband. One of the biggest events that happened to me before the virus was the death of one of my cousins. On February 11, 2020, he commit suicide. It was a jarring experience. He had lived nearby with his wife and kid and helped install new electrical outlets in the apartment me and my husband were sharing with my parents until a new apartment opened in that same complex. Despite this, we were able to have a normal funeral, which was nice since it gave me some closure. I mostly felt bad for his wife and kid he left behind, since they would now have to figure out how to continue without him. By the time February hit, I was well aware of the virus by this time, but I was sure that majority of the problem was in China. Earlier that month, I had gone to the Dominican Republic to do some volunteer work, as I knew how to speak Spanish. I noticed travel restrictions to and from China at that time, and thought that the travel restrictions could help. This is why I mostly thought the pandemic was mostly China's problem. This idea was quickly changed when March hit. When March 2020 hit and there was a declaration of national emergency, I was very stressed by it. I kept on having images flash in my head of empty grocery aisles that I've seen from social media. Due to the panic that had occurred over the national emergency declaration, the grocery store in my area was completely out of eggs, toilet paper, and hand sanitizer, and the meat aisle was nearly emptied. There were rations on the amount of canned goods you could get. Me and my husband were able to grab a few, some of which my husband said were the "good ones that no one wanted". After that, my anxiety lessened and I felt like I could handle it. I was wrong, as I was not expecting full lockdowns later that month. By the time April came along, the lockdowns felt so severe to me that I couldn't escape anywhere. Bedsides my husband having to comfort me, one of the only things keeping me sane was the job of working for my grandma. I became even more thankful for that job since had I gotten a job in the service industry, or even a basic office job, I would have likely been let go due to being too new. Additionally, I was working full-time for a while, so money wasn't as much of an issue for me as it was before I had gotten the job. April was also when I had one of my worst anxiety attacks, and so to help me, my husband took me out to get some fast food and eat in a parking lot in order to not feel so enclosed. March felt similar to April. The big difference here though was that my brother had to come back from his LDS Church mission six months earlier due to the pandemic, so we ended up having someone new to live with when he got back. One of the nice things my family did, since church services were changed due to the virus, was having by brother bless the sacrament, as he had the authority to do so. By dressing for church and having it at my grandma's home, I was able to feel a bit more normal again, which helped me reduce my anxiety. When May hit, it was me and my husband's one year anniversary. For this special occasion, I booked an Italian restaurant and were able to dine-in for the first time in months. As more places started to open up, I felt my anxiety decrease, as I knew I could enjoy more things again. I am now writing this all in December 2020. The endless monotony of living without as many places to go has made this year feel like both the longest and shortest year that I have experienced. I know that things will change and things will go back to normal, and that is one of the things that is keeping me happy. My anxiety is the worst it has ever been this year due to the restrictions on everyday life, but I've learned that I can live through it, with the help of my husband. This was a trying year for many people's marriages, and to have this experience within the first year of marriage has made me realize how much I depend on my husband, but also that we can get through many tough things together.
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  2020-04-27

  COVID-19 Memory Archival Project

  This is a project that aims to collect as many personal stories as they can. Through archiving the pandemic, they want to assess the impact of COVID-19 on people.
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  2020-03-20

  Artis-Naples Social Media Post

  Instagram post by the Artis-Naples. The photograph is their sign that reads “May memories of this season’s iconic moments help you through this difficult time. Be well!” The Artis-Naples is home to the Naples Philharmonic and The Baker Museum. The post itself announces that they will be taking time on their Instagram account to go through the memories of the season’s moments. There is a link to their website regarding COVID-19.