Items

• 
  2023-03-20

  Disorientation: The Feeling I had on March 11th, 2020

  What Happened on March 11th, 2020
• 2020-05-29

  Verazzano Bridge

  Taking daily walks during the pandemic didn’t make me feel “healthy” or “well-adjusted”. I watched the way my neighbors and I would pull our masks up when we passed each other on the street. Saddening, on one hand; a show of communal care, on the other. I think it’s human to want to pull a silver lining out of a tragedy and I guess the silver lining here is that I had time to s l o w down and look at my community, not just the people, but the signs on storefronts, dishes of cat food next to porches, and yes, the outline of the Verazzano peeking out through the clouds hovering over Belt Parkway. I used to walk on this walkway when I was a child too, and though the pandemic has changed everything, the fishermen are still here, their rods propped against the rail. People are still riding tandem bikes. Still laughing, talking, breathing in the salty air.
• 2020-03-15

  Life during COVID 19

  My experience living during COVID 19 was unforeseen. It was my senior year of high school during the year of 2020 when I first heard of the term "Coronavirus." Being a student athlete at this stage of my life, I was looking forward to several upcoming events, such as Prom, my last outdoor track and field season competing as a distance runner, and graduation. When March 2020 arrived, everything came to an abrupt change for the worse. I suddenly found out that all of the current classes I was taking was forced to be online. The outdoor track and field season I was training for with my teammates and all of the goals that I set for myself were abandoned. The graduation I was looking forward to was held on a pre recorded video instead of a traditional in person setting. What I have learned from the pandemic is that some things will not go as planned, no matter how much time and devotion goes into a particular event. Telling this story is important to me because it can let other future generations acknowledge what happened during these uncertain times and what things can be prevented from happening later on.
• 
  2020-08-05

  Only Student on Campus: My First and Second Year at College

  The item that I am submitting describes my life as a student throughout my senior year of high school toward my first year of college. I emphasized the feeling of being alone and dealing with the college on a fully virtual level. As months passed it was important to validate the experience and the growth from being in an online setting to an in-person setting.
• 
  March 13, 2020

  unbeknownst emptiness

  I worked/attended CUNY Hunter College during the start of the pandemic. On March 13, 2020, we were informed that we would not be returning to work until further notice, and I believe that a majority of late-night classes/activities were cancelled. As a result, my friend/coworker and I walked around the near-empty campus. We ended up sneaking into an empty lecture hall, ate some snacks, and chatted about the future. I took a photo of our feet up on the seats as a sort of fun memento, to show how crazy it looked to see ourselves amongst the empty hall, and when a coworker asked where we are, we sent them that. The photo meant almost nothing at the time and was just a casual photo I took amongst many in my every day. Looking back now, it holds nostalgia as well as dread. I think the emptiness shows what was to come, and how terrifying it would be, and just how impactful the pandemic was on our lives. I have not stepped foot in Hunter since then, so that was truly my last time being in that school. It makes me sad and makes me think what the future would have held had these events not happened.
• 
  2013-03-14

  Pandemic Dream Vacation

  This is a photograph i took on my last major vacation to South Carolina in 2013. If I could travel anywhere I would go back there and I would go back to Disney World and my dream vacation that I have never been on would be Hawaii. Due to circumstances that happened in 2013 I have been unable to return to South Carolina since. I would go back because I have some positive memories there and it was the last trip before my mom got paralyzed two months later and it is one of her favorite spots too. I have also enjoyed trips to Disney World and have always wanted to visit Hawaii. I did have a trip planned to South Carolina and Florida in February 2020 but had to cancel because of Covid and I have not had a chance to go back since.
• 2020-06-22

  Milestone Year

  To get to this story, I have to go back a few years first. I'm an immigrant from El Salvador. I came to the U.S. as a teenager in 1994, and never went back. I was in my 30s when I decided it was finally time to visit the grandmother I'd been missing for so long. I started to save and plan. Then she died. It took several years before I finally took my first trip back in November of 2019. I spent the time vacationing on the coast. I avoided my grandmother's house, my friends, and my family. I wasn't ready. But I decided that for my 40th birthday, in 2020, I'd return for a longer stay and visit my childhood home and all the friends and family left behind. Then there was a pandemic. The trip was cancelled, but it was the least of that year's problems. I lost my job and went back to school to start a new career. Our dog got cancer and died. My partner had a friend in El Salvador who died of COVID. I can never reschedule that same trip. Too much has changed. I'm planning to return this summer. This time with a firmer grasp on life's impermanence. I want to visit the white sand beaches at Playa Mango before it gets turned into a "surf city" tourist trap. I want to visit all the important cultural landmarks, especially those from which I can learn about my ancestors. More importantly, I will not avoid friends and family. On the contrary, I want to cherish the time I will have with them as if the next day isn't guaranteed. I plan to take dozens of photographs, portraits of everyone I see, I want to write down their stories in my journal, I want to record every visit, every meal, every experience possible in my journal. I plan to say "see you later," but not leave anything unsaid. Just in case.
• 2020-04-08

  A Celebratory Trip Canceled by the COVID-19 Pandemic

  I graduated from college in April 2020, one of my sisters also graduated from college that same semester, and my other sister graduated the year before. As a family we had planned a big trip to Florida and a cruise to the Bahamas as a celebration of our graduations. Unfortunately, because of locks downs and restrictions to mitigate the spread of COVID-19 that trip was canceled. We weren’t able to reschedule that trip and I haven’t been on any trips since but if I could travel anywhere it would be on that trip with my family. I missed out on a fun travel experience to celebrate our graduations as a family because of the pandemic so being able to actually experience that trip now that restrictions are lifted would be a full circle experience. There are a few sites on Nassau that I would like to see like For Charlotte as well as the Pirate Museum. I would document my trip mostly through photography, especially since I would have limited access to the internet while on the cruise ship. This trip would mostly be about spending time with my family as we haven’t all been in the same place at once since Christmas of 2019. Traveling to me is mostly about creating memories with loved ones. The location and things we do are less important than the memories we create together.
• 
  2021-04-27

  The Masked Magic Kingdom

  This is a story about a family trying to experience the World of Disney in a post pandemic world. It shows that even at the end of a pandemic, a family can still make the most and be together and make memories to last a life time!
• 2021-02

  Touring COVID Texas

  When reflecting back to my traveling during the COVID-19 pandemic I think of constantly waiting. I was overseas when the pandemic started and was not worried at all about travel restrictions. I was not even concern about what might happen to me. All of a sudden traveling stop in the middle of March and I was supposed to leave in April. I felt the full effect of the restrictions of where I lived and I made sure I followed every restriction because I wanted to come home. Forward to three months later I was able to come home after travel was open back up but I immediately noticed a difference. We could not leave the plane during refueling. I quarantine before I left and again once I arrived. The world I left had change entirely. Mask were worn by almost everyone and lines were longer because of spacing. Sometimes there would not even be a line because stores and shops were closed down. Once I finally made it home my day to day routines became less adventurous. I used delivery apps on my phone to order the majority of what I needed. This was continuous until the end of 2020 leading into 2021. Restrictions to COVID were becoming social norms and less enforced, specifically where I lived, Mississippi. The first trip I took once restrictions of travel were lifted was to San Antonio. Touring in in Texas was thriving when I initially got there. However the very next week Texas had frozen over. We did not have electricity or water for almost a week. Texas was in a state of emergency. Traveling on the road was highly advised against. Getting resources to feed myself was difficult. I waited in line for two hours to gather groceries for myself because the line stretch around the store. Once I was able to leave Texas and return home I did. My time traveling to Texas set a precedent for me. I now travel with extra food and water no matter where I go.
• 
  2021-07

  My Grandpa and I’s Camping COVID Trip

  After 2020, I was looking to travel and try to get back to normal. However, in 2021 I was supposed to go to Europe to see my sister but COVID canceled that trip so I was perplexed at what I could do for travel. Then it came to me, my grandpa is someone who has traveled almost everywhere in the US. With that, he loves to camp and one of his favorite spots that he always mentions is Mackinac Island. I thought this would be a great bonding trip. So for Christmas I told my grandpa that I would love to go on a camping trip with him up to Mackinac Island in Michigan. This would be the first time me and my grandpa would be going on a week-long vacation with just ourselves. What was funny is that everyone in the family warned me because my grandpa never stops talking and the music would be in his hands. The good thing about that is that I had lived with my grandparents the summer after I finished college so I was used to being around the constant conversations. Secondly, I am an old soul so I love 50s and 60s music. Therefore, I knew that this could be one of the best trips I might ever get to take with my grandfather. The trip began in July of 2021 as we left my hometown of Manteno, IL and traveled up to Michigan. We had a small popup camper that we were going to be sleeping in for this week's trip. There were so many favorite memories it is kind of hard to trim down. First off, traveling was so much fun, having deep conversations about my grandpa’s life and the different times that he had gone to Mackinac were so fascinating. My grandpa can talk to anyone so he is a very good storyteller. Another memory was setting up the camper because the second time we did set it up we forgot to stabilize the back so when I went to lay in bed the whole thing tipped over. The good part is that no one got hurt. On the second day when we arrived in Mackinac it was down pouring on us, thankfully my grandpa had ponchos ready to go. That night we started the tradition that would carry on for the night which was our card games. Every night we played either crazy eights or dirty spades. Those were some of the best times when we were just hanging out together. I cannot tell you how amazing those memories still are today. When we traveled to Mackinac Island on the third day it was amazing. Me and my grandpa walked all around the island taking in the nature, the history, and the culture on this small island. It lived up to the hype my grandpa had told me. After that day we traveled up to the Upper Peninsula with the UP-ers which was cool to see. That night we slept on the border of Canada, which we could see across the river in Sault Ste. Marie. We went on a couple water boat tours in the Great Lakes which were amazing. One of the last funny memories we had was that my grandpa finally let me drive on the second to last day. I am not kidding you when I say thirty minutes into driving one of the camper’s tires was gone. The best part was that neither of us noticed until a car passed us and pointed it out. This was such a funny memory because then we had to replace the tire and that is a story that me and my grandpa still joke about. Maybe my driving is bad but I don’t know, it could just be bad luck. The good thing about this entire trip was that the COVID restrictions were minimal. Since we were outside for the most part that was almost never an issue. A couple times when we went into restaurants we had to put our masks on, but it was nice because we were getting fresh air. Overall, the trip was a resounding success and one that I know holds a special place in my heart and my grandpa’s. I feel so fortunate to have had this experience with my grandpa and cannot wait for the next roadtrip we have together.
• 
  2022-07-01

  Delay to The Bay

  My plans to visit San Francisco in 2020 came to a halt with the outbreak of the Coronavirus. As a high school teacher, I was looking forward to my long awaited-spring break. It had been quite some years since my last visit to the San Francisco, and I knew a trip to ‘The Bay’ was long overdue. I booked a flight, hotel, and waited patiently as the weeks went by. Spring was coming up and there were heavy concerns about COVID 19 spreading into North America. I was slightly concerned but figured I would be safe to make this trip. As news broke out about cases emerging in San Francisco, the nation went into hysteria. I was not skeptic about the hazard of Coronavirus, but selfishly planned to proceed with the trip. Then my father called me. My parents, both in their seventies were definitely at risk, especially my mother who struggled with health since my childhood. My father asked me kindly not to go to San Francisco. Without hesitation, I canceled my flight and hotel. I had booked everything online through a third party and was unable to receive any refund. Bummed out, I knew it was the right thing to do. Coronavirus spread, schools shut down and my spring break prolonged. At first I was spending time kayaking, but the weather in Phoenix got so hot I had to stay inside. The Phoenix summer of 2020 had record breaking heat with 55 consecutive days of 115 degrees plus Fahrenheit temperatures. I was miserable. With concerns of my mom’s health, social distancing, living alone and bored, I was very unhappy. The unjustifiable killing of George Floyd caused anger, and rightfully so, across the nation which contributed to more hysteria. The only positive that came from that hot summer were my experiments in the kitchen. I would then deliver tasty meals for my parents. This was the one thing that made me happy. Unfortunately, my mother did not survive past the summer of 2020. She passed away in her sleep peacefully due to an unrelated COVID cause. I was on an all time low. Sad, empty, missing my students, and missing normal daily life. We had no idea how many people would die and when things would normalize. It was truly scary. Fast forward to 2022 and things were much better. I figured surviving 2020 made me stronger and much happier. Vaccinated and boosted, I decided to pursue my trip to San Francisco. I made the best of this short trip. I went to a party outside the Chase Center for the NBA Finals, in which the Golden State Warriors played against the Boston Celtics. For the first time, I took a ferry to Alcatraz. In China Town, I saw locals dance with dragons, in which one bopped me in the face while I was taking photos! Caught by surprise, I did not take offense to this. Observing how the dragons behaved with mischief, I knew it was all for fun. This made me laugh. This was a much-needed trip indeed. 2020 affected everyone around the world. With global hysteria, people getting sick, people dying, racial injustice, everyone except pandemic deniers and those oblivious to political issues resonated with fear. Passing through time, my 2022 trip to San Francisco was a rebirth. A rebirth to normalization. A rebirth to my passion of exploring culture. A rebirth of sanity, and a rebirth of controlling fear. A rebirth to laughter. With dragons, noodles, basketball, and Ghirardelli, the delay to ‘The Bay’ will forever be a golden memory.
• 
  0202-04-11

  Ender Dragon Fight with my friends

  This photo was taken of my friends and me right before we fought the ender dragon on the first Minecraft world we played at the start of the pandemic.
• 2020-09-02

  The Shaman in Francesco

  When I went to work at Ernst and Young, I thought partners were going to figure out in a New York minute that I didn’t belong there because I lacked the intellectual curiosity, problem-solving talent, communication ability, or any of these characteristics of a professional consultant. I was extremely anxious on my first day. When I entered the Orange County office with its oil paintings hanging in the entryway and its staircase connecting the floor on which consulting Partners had offices to the floor on which audit Partners resided, I knew I didn’t belong there. Then I met Francesco; he was a shaman bearing wise council. I felt at ease instantly. Francesco’s friendship and advice were just what the doctor ordered. On the first project I managed, Francesco worked for me as a member of the consulting team. The Partner we reported to did not like Francesco. He didn’t like his style of communication, his style of dress, nor his accent–Francesco was Chinese-Indonesian. I gave up my integrity by sharing in the Partner’s dislike of Francesco. But my opinion was dishonest. He had been my savior, after all. Role forward six years, and Francesco now works for a small consulting firm I own. Francesco is a loyal consultant in which I confide my innermost emotions. Unfortunately, my consulting firm went through a period of contraction that meant Francesco had to find employment elsewhere. Still, we met regularly to explore opportunities to grow my company so that Francesco and I could work on the same team again. As always, Francesco was a source of limitless ideas and friendship. Francesco passed away on September 2nd, 2020. He was taken from humanity at much too young of an age. He did not succumb to COVID. I don’t even remember how COVID affected me at the time because I was so distraught over Francesco’s passing. I didn’t lose a colleague. I lost a friend.
• 
  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.
• 
  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.
• 2022-04-29

  Dementia and Covid

  Over the last two years, being away from people, and having to social distance, I have still taken care of my grandfather. He has Dementia. Now that things are starting to get a little better, and a lot of people have been vaccinated, I have been able to have him come stay the night at my house every Friday. The first couple of times he was confused, but now he seems to instinctively know the routine of it all. He likes getting to spend time with my stepdad and my girlfriend, and walk outside to see the horses. Covid has taken a lot, besides the countless lives. It rapidly increased my grandpa’s progression in memory loss. Most days he can’t quite remember my name or my mom's name. But at least he is happy, he laughs and smiles, and knows that he loves and trusts us. Him not being able to have as much social interaction as he used to has drastically changed his cognitive abilities. Today is a Friday. He was pretty quiet on the drive from his house to mine. I got him an ice cream cone. No matter where he is cognitively that man will always, always want an ice cream cone. Vanilla to be specific. We used to get ice cream cones from McDonald's when I was little when he would pick me up to spend the night at his house. I wonder how many ice cream cones we have left. I hate that his memory has been cut short and stripped from him. He had been slowly declining for the last few years before Covid, but once we hit the lockdowns, it was all over. He was good at hiding it for the first 6 months or so, but in the last year and a half it has been very clear. I miss who he was, I know we all do.
• 
  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.
• 
  2020-05

  How COVID-19 Altered Some of Life’s Most Memorable Times

  The COVID-19 lockdown began in March 2020 of my senior year of high school. At first, it was just a two-week vacation break, then it soon became unknown what the rest of senior year would be. I was extremely devastated when the pandemic took away my senior year because the last year of high school is one of the most memorable times of your life. Although it was a rough time, my friends, family, and I did what we could to make the best of every big moment. The first monumental moment taken away from me was my 18th birthday on April 20, 2020. My friends and I have always gone all out for each other’s birthdays such as concerts, dinners, gifts, and big celebrations. My family always went out to our favorite restaurants or had extended family come over to celebrate as well. For my 18th birthday, we made the best of it by my mom making my favorite dinner, and my friends planned a drive-by parade past my house with signs, balloons, and cards. Although it ended up being a nice day, it was still hard to enjoy it with wondering what the day could have been. Senior prom is an exciting moment that you look forward to your entire senior year. My childhood best friend and I planned to go together. My friends and I had bought our dresses back in January, so we were all ready for the big day. Due to school being shut down and social distancing guidelines, a senior prom was not possible. To make the day the best it possibly could be, my friends and I put on our makeup, did our hair, and put our dresses on to have our own prom. We took pictures together and had a little party at my friend’s house. The best part is that our version of a mini prom ended up being more fun than an actual prom. However, it is still bittersweet that we never got to experience the last dance with our senior class. Missing out on a graduation ceremony was the hardest part for me. It was the final closure to have with your classmates and teachers before heading off to college to begin a new life. I did not get to see any of my classmates walk the stage and share such a sentimental moment with them. We did receive our diplomas, but it was not the same as being on the football field with 300 other classmates and the bleachers full of family and friends. Senior banquet occurred after graduation where everyone got together at the school and had a fun night one last time. After a couple months of worrying, tears, and longing for more, it was time to move on. Although senior year did not end the way we wanted it to, the memories of making everything the best with the people I love mean the most to me.
• 2020-03-13

  What the pandemic!

  March 13, 2020. I am sitting in the middle of senior civics class taking the biggest test of the year. My teacher gasps turning off the lights, and turns on the projector to reveal an email notice to all staff from the principal. This email is alerting us of a district wide shutdown on schools for two weeks. Everyone is confused, but being 17, thinks nothing of it and finishes our tests. Upon living school that day full of excitement, my mom calls my sister and I telling us to bring everything home from our lockers as the nation is shutting down. She tells us to come straight home, no stops under any circumstances. We ride home in eerie silence. Two years later, I still have a vivid memory of the moments leading up to lockdown in my bedroom for months. This pandemic has not only affected literally every aspect of mine and many others lives, but everyone has a very individualized story.
• 
  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.
• 2020-04-01

  Pumpkin Spice Candles

  One thing that captures a sensory memory that relates to the COVID-19 pandemic for me is candles, specifically pumpkin spice candles. My wife and myself, like many other people, spent the majority of 2020 shut inside our home. Prior to this pandemic, we would often go out 3-4 nights a week. Nothing crazy, of course. Dinner, bowling, movie, etc. Typical married couple dates. However, once we were shut inside our house, we had to find other little things to occupy our time so we wouldn’t go stir crazy. My wife started buying a lot of scented candles from Amazon, and her favorite was pumpkin spice. I swear, my apartment smelled like pumpkin spice from about April of 2020 to January of 2021. The scent helped her relax, and it made me happy to know that she was finding ways to keep herself settled and centered. Now, whenever I’m out somewhere and catch a scent of pumpkin, I think of the two of us trapped in the apartment but working together to make the whole experience into a positive. I know that this is probably more of a sentimental story than what we were supposed to write, but this is what first came to my mind when I saw this assignment.
• 2021-10-03

  The Scents of a Homecoming

  My maternal grandfather passed away late last year amidst a relatively heavy pandemic lockdown, and our family has since tried to fill in for him in caretaking for my grandmother. If he could have asked something of us, I know it would have only been to look after her. He was that kind of man. He didn’t need for anything for time with his family and friends, and his utmost concern was her welfare, even when she angered him. Recurring and cyclic apprehension and uncertainty over transmission rates, long-term vaccine efficacy and inoculated antibody generation have forestalled several attempted return trips to my hometown. Data-driven doubts have eroded my wife’s confidence that our collective vaccinations will protect her aging parents from life-altering illness and death have prevented her from traveling with me, even though she wont readily admit that outside our home. In addition to everything else the pandemic has altered or taken from us, it’s also complicated my family’s efforts to care for each other. My grandmother turned 86 recently, and her birthday was also their anniversary. They would have been married 63 years this month, and we wanted to make sure the day didn’t pass like any other lonely Tuesday since his death. My cousins and I put together a birthday dinner at the best restaurant in town, and I traveled back to New Mexico for a week to visit and help where I could. The trip turned out to inspire a self-reflection on the power of scent in my life, emotions, and memory. *** I drove straight to my grandmother’s home on Blodgett Street. I pushed the front door open, and an unpleasant stink hit my nostrils. Throughout my life, that home had particular smells that transitioned over time. Everyone in my family but the children smoked cigarettes while I was growing up, and it wasn’t unusual for a blue-gray haze to hang in my grandparents’ home during family holidays. It wasn’t uncommon for their 1000 sq. ft. home to sleep ten or fifteen people when we had something to celebrate or grieve. Ashtrays often overflowed if late night poker games grew too intense to step away from the dining table. I recall one Thanksgiving from my early childhood in which heavy cigarette smoke obscured my view of the backdoor while I stood near the front door. Even through those early years, I associated their home with the smell of sweets. Baked goods, chocolate cakes, snickerdoodles, and sugar cereals, although I’m now surprised any of us could smell anything. I never ate Fruity Pebbles anywhere but their house. Word reached my family in the mid 80s that hotboxing the house was bad for everyone’s health, and they began smoking outside. Grandad hated that; he’s the one who paid off the mortgage, so he oughta be able to smoke wherever he damned well pleased. Still, he took it outside for the grandkids. Since they stopped smoking in the house, and especially since they quit smoking fifteen years ago, I associated their home with a particular and pleasant fragrance. I never placed it, and I’ve never smelled it anywhere else. It wasn’t solely the scented wax my grandmother leaves on warming plates for too long, which are almost always homey food scents, like apple pie. The scent of their home welcomed me back to a place I am unconditionally loved, missed, and wanted. My jokes always hit, my cooking never failed, and everyone was always glad to see me. They were also glad to take my lunch money at the poker table, which I imagine might have contributed to my perpetual welcome. As of this trip, that unique aroma is gone, replaced by a light odor of stale animal waste. My grandmother took in a low functioning chihuahua about three years ago, and the dog is slowly and thoroughly ruining all the flooring surfaces in her home. It won’t housebreak, and it’s incapable of turning right. Seriously. The dog might be a reincarnated Nascar driver. It only turns left. When it’s excited, anxious, fearful, doesn’t matter. The only emotional arrow in its quiver is a left turn, and the only dichotomy is the circumference. The dog can run around the whole room or spin in place, but only and always left. Lefty shit on one of my most important and reassuring emotional stimulants. ** I also stayed with my parents, who live across town, and we share a love of food, especially comfort food best consumed with big spoons or served in casserole dishes. Because we’re New Mexicans, that means a heavy dose of Hatch green chili goes in everything produced in our kitchens. Throughout the week, my folks made all the staples for fall: red beef enchiladas, fire roasted salsa, smoked burgers, and green chili chicken stew. While I associated backed goods and sweets with my grandparents’ home, I’ve always associated the aroma of meals with my parents, and especially the foods that take a day or two to get just right in a crock or stockpot. Bubbling green chili anything reminds me of the best parts of my childhood, and I have no unfond memories or emotions associated with it. I never caught a beating over the dinner table, never fought over a kettle of green chili. Comfort foods have historically made all the hurt and misery of the outside world go away. That’s their magic, isn’t it? No matter what the day and the world brought to your doorstep, the right foods and aromas improved everything they touched. ** As such, the consistent and predictable wonderfulness of my parents’ home helped buttress my emotions and the loss of the Blodgett Street Scent. The disappearance of that emotional, olfactory experience altered my perception of the trip. I regarded its replacement as a bellwether of things to come, a foreshadowing of my grandmother’s seemingly imminent decline into managed in-home care. My concerns over what the light stink meant conspired with her increased hearing loss, the occasional repeated story, and the often-repeated questions to erode my confidence in her long-term stability. Although she’s now 86, she remains independent and self-sufficient. There’s nothing she can’t accomplish on her own with enough time and naps between exertion. I think I’ve taken that for granted, though, and I should begin managing my expectations. Thanks to a left-leaning chihuahua, I have to confront my grandmother’s increasing fragility and forthcoming dependence. I regret having never attempted to define its source ingredients, although I doubt I could recreate it at any other time or place. In the meantime, I need to get her out of the house long enough to have the flooring scrubbed and sanitized. If you’re in the market for a left-loving fecal factory, please inquire within.
• 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.
• 2020-03

  Recollections from an Oncology Nurse

  My mom is an oncology nurse and has worked in the field of nursing for the past 30 years. I recently asked her to talk to me about her experience this past year as a healthcare worker. She recalled the first week in March when things were becoming intense. People were asked to wear face shields and gowns as they were working in an immune-compromised area where the patients had cancer. At the time there was no vaccine. “It was incredibly intense and scary” my mother said. “People were worried about getting Covid from other staff at the hospital and also worried about contracting Covid from the patients.” “I walked into the hospital and there was an incredible underlying anxiety, the feeling of unease was palpable. People did not talk to each other like they normally did - everyone was consumed with the thought of not using each other’s pens, putting gloves on when receiving things from the pharmacy. Things we would never have even thought of before.” 
 She continued, “It was a feeling of both being unsettled and a blind trust you put in your coworkers to be as clean, as responsible and in isolation outside of work as you. The intensity of that feeling was there the moment you walked in. The environment had changed. People were not as happy, communicative, relaxed.” 
 She explained how working in Covid - there was an incredible newness to it - a fear and apprehension.
• 
  2020-11-30

  Creating New Traditions in a Pandemic

  One of the traditions in my family is to make lefse, a type of Norwegian flatbread, at Christmas time. This tradition was started by my grandmother, because it was one of the foods that she associated with her childhood Christmases as the child of Norwegian and Swedish immigrants. Every year, no matter what was going on, we gathered together as a family at the start of the Christmas season to make lefse. If you’ve made lefse before, you can attest to it being a labor-intensive process, which involves ricing pounds of potatoes, rolling out dozens of balls of dough until they are paper thin, and frying them one by one on a hot griddle. It’s one of those recipes that works better if you have several people to help. In my family, everyone had a job to do. The youngest children of the family were put in charge of popping air bubbles that rose from the dough while it cooked. The older kids took turns flouring the rolling boards and rolling out the dough. The adults were responsible for cooking the lefse, a process that involved transferring huge rounds of dough to the hot griddle using long turning sticks. Even family members who were not culinarily inclined were put to work, folding the finished lefse and packaging it up so that it could be frozen, so that it was available for Christmas morning. It was a family affair, that filled the kitchen up with laughter and stories and more than one flour fight. Family lefse day is one of the most enduring memories of my childhood. When the pandemic made it unsafe to travel or even to visit my family, I found myself facing a Christmas without being able to participate in my family’s lefse making tradition. There were many teary video calls to family members as we all came to terms with the fact that we would be missing this tradition for the first time in nearly 40 years. At this point, after enduring months of isolation because of COVID-19, I was devastated. It didn’t feel like the holidays without this tradition and making lefse by myself felt overwhelming. I was telling my friend Mike about how sad I was over missing out on this tradition, when he offered a solution. We would both quarantine for 14 days, purchase all the ingredients we needed and have them delivered, and then he and I would make as much lefse as we could. I was stunned by his generosity. After all, this was not his tradition. In fact, he’d never even eaten lefse before. But he saw a way that he could help a friend feel better after such a trying year. So, we did just that. With only two of us, it took us about six hours, but we ended up with nearly thirteen pounds of lefse that eventually got sent to family members in four different states. The best moment came when we all video chatted from our homes on Christmas morning, just to eat the lefse together. It was different than normal, but it was a joyous moment. Mike joined us on the call and shared some of the challenges we had making thirteen pounds of lefse in a tiny apartment in the middle of a pandemic. This year, he’s been invited to my parents’ house to join in on the family lefse making day. After all, it’s tradition.
• 
  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.
• 
  2020-12-04

  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.
• 
  2021-03

  Pandemic Wedding: Rachel Nichols

  Walls: What things did you have to change for your wedding to happen? (i.e. limit the number of people, venue changes to outside venues, or making face masks required) Rachel: So originally I was planning on having a bigger wedding around 200 people. I wanted it to be a huge celebration but due to the pandemic My Husband and I made the decision to just have our family, bridal parties, and just a few of our closest friends. I requested that anyone that was attending the wedding get COVID tested. I also provided masks to everyone and had hand sanitizer stations throughout the whole venue. Walls: What was the biggest concern you had about having your wedding during a global pandemic? Rachel: My biggest concern having my wedding during a pandemic was the possible chance that my grandparents & any older family members could possibly come in contact with COVID. But they were my biggest supporters and assured me that all was well & that they were taking every precaution to stay safe. Walls: Did you have any reservations about having your wedding at all? Rachel: I definitely had reservations about having my wedding, for weeks I went back and forth on whether it was the right decision. It was honestly mentally wearing but I wouldn’t change a thing. My wedding was uniquely perfect and I had everyone there that I needed. Walls: Did you have to push back your wedding? Rachel: I definitely had push back from a few family members about having my wedding, it was a really hard decision to make. But eventually they came around. My wedding date was significant to me because I discovered that my Grandfather had gotten married on the same date I chose. It meant too much to me to change. Walls: What issues, if any, did you have with the vendors that you had scheduled for your wedding? Rachel: I actually had zero issues with the Vendors because all I needed was a bartender, the caterer was more than accommodating and I had a family friend be my photographer. Everything was smooth sailing. Walls: If you had to push your wedding back, were vendors really flexible on giving you a new date/ refund? Rachel: Everyone who helped make this wedding possible was very flexible, they understood the circumstances at hand. Walls: What does it feel like to have gotten married during a pandemic? Rachel: Getting married during a pandemic was interesting, before the wedding I was nervous. I didn’t want anybody to feel uncomfortable, that was my biggest worry. But as soon as the ball got rolling everything felt effortless and magical. It became a very carefree environment where everyone who was there was able to forget about what was happening in our world and just enjoy themselves. Like I said before I wouldn’t have changed a thing, it didn’t even feel like we were in a pandemic. Everyone was able to enjoy themselves and stay safe at the same time. I'm very blessed to have been able to get married during a pandemic. It’s unique and something I will be able to tell my children about one day. These memories I will hold dear to my heart forever. It was just the right people and it couldn’t have been better.
• 
  2020-05-02

  On A Knee

  The photo highlights a peaceful protest that involved the participation of medical faculty. The health care workers included in this photograph included doctors, nurses, admin, security guards and handful of maintenance. This was demonstration to support the Black Lives Matter Movement after the killing of a George Floyd at the hands of a police officer. The individuals in this photo can all be seen taking a knee similar to the protest method used by Colin Kaepernick. National Football League, player Colin Kaepernick took his first knee on September 1, 2016. The taking of the knee went against the tradition of standing during the signing of the National Anthem. Kaepernick said at the time: “I am not going up to show pride in a flag for a country that oppresses black people and people of color”. The people in this picture felt the same exact sentiments as Kaepernick. I chose this source because I wanted historians to understand the impact of the pandemic and the unity it created amongst individuals of different races. As a health care worker, I faced the challenges of Covid-19 directly. The fear of transmitting COVID-19 led to months of isolation from my loved ones. This feeling of loneliness contributed to the decline of mental health for me and many of my co-workers. On May 25, 2021, when George was murdered by a Minneapolis police officer over a suspicion of a counterfeit $20 bill my feeling of loneliness grew tremendously. Being an African American man in the united states was now just as dangerous as the virus killing thousands in New York. When the members of my staff came up the idea of protesting for the rights of African Americans, my feeling of loneliness begin to fade. Kneeling on the ground next to coworkers of all different races reminded of the inclusiveness and unity that we all needed in life. This was a moment in a history that will never be forgotten.
• 
  2021-05-18

  BLM movement during COVID

  The horrific and inhumane death of George Floyd was the absolute last straw for many people. His death caused such an uprising that no one was prepared for. Floyd’s death caused thousands of people across the country to protest and literally fight for their lives. Citizens began a peaceful protest which turned into violent protests which resulted in the burning and looting of the city of Minneapolis. This protest turned violent because even after the negative image the police had in the country’s eyes, they still proceeded to injure Americans, using rubber bullets and tear gas during these protests. I chose this picture because it is very impactful to me as a Black man in America it is terrifying and sad. The way police treat Black men such as myself is beyond scary and traumatizing. There are no words to describe how it feels to walk around as a man with brown skin. In the photo I selected, there are two police officers beating on a Black man while he is down on the ground. It baffles my mind how even after an individual is down, disarmed, and disables, police officers will continue to apply unnecessary force to the individual. The death of George Floyd and the events that took place after is a monumental event in history. People need to know how America, came together despite race and differences and protested to enforce the Black Lives Matter Movement. So many different groups of people put their differences aside and came together to protest the safety of Black people. It is important that police violence is captured not only for the justice of the individual who was hurt, but as a part of history. The police brutality and Black Lives Matter movement is very important part of history. This is a movement that brought together many individuals of different race, class, and beliefs to support the end the abuse of Black citizens of America. I chose this picture which occurred in Buffalo NY, officer decided to beat down a 75 year old man who was peacefully protesting. The idea of police who are supposed to serve and protect are beating an elderly man, imagine what they would do to a young man as myself. I’m glad these cruel acts of violence are now being captured and people are receiving the justice they deserve. It is also important for people to see these events as a part of history.
• 
  2020-07-15

  Coney Island Police Brutality Protest

  For my primary source, I selected a photograph that my cousin from coney island sent me to join her to protest. The protest was on July 15, 2021, from 1 pm to 5 pm. The march’s purpose was in the memory of the African Americans that were murder by police brutality. The protest was a peaceful demonstration where the community complained that the problem is getting bigger every day. Therefore, the government needed to corporate to diminish the violence and racism toward black people. The march has two purposes the first one to protest that black lives matter and that it was not okay to kill somebody because of their skin color, and it was also to complain about police use of force towards minorities. 2020 was a year where many innocent people were killed, for example, Rashard brooks, Daniel Prude, George Floyd, and Breonna Taylor. Those victims were not just killed by the police but were killed being innocent and doing ordinary people stuff which makes us think that the problem comes from police racism. I wanted to assist in the protest, but my father said straight up no because of covid 19 pandemic was at its worse moment, and the crowding is was going to be an easy way to catch the virus. I kept insisting until I got permission to go. I took three trains to get to my cousin’s house. First, I took train A to Columbus circle, then train D to the new york aquarium, and last train Q to ocean parkway where my cousin was waiting for me, and we went to the protest. It was not a big protest because most people who assist were people from the area, but it was peaceful. They were all screaming, “not justice, no peace.” the environment did no felt uncomfortable because they were energetic and getting the anger out by marching for the victims. The police of coney island and Brighton beach were present, ensuring that people maintain order and supporting the march. The social distancing was followed, and all the participants were wearing a mask. I felt good because I did not participate in the protest in my area, but I was present in other parts of the state. I selected this source because I want historians of the future to analyze that the country was active and acting against the problem. Racism is a global problem. It can be controlled if we unify and try to make others conscious that it is not okay to judge somebody else because of the way they look or their nationality. The communities were getting together to announce that they needed our support to solve the problem and eliminate conflicts with people equal like us but with a tiny skin color difference. Racism is so intense that people need to go outside in the middle of a pandemic to protest and moderate the issue. We were exposed to the virus because the violence toward minorities is increasing in the country. It looks like the only way it can be moderate is by going outside to show the dominant group that we have a voice.
• 
  2021-04-23

  The First Weeks

  I remember when covid-19 was a far away danger, some natural calamity removed from my normal routine: waking up, doing yoga, meditating, working, and so on. Every day just like the others. China was in lock-down and we mindlessly scrolled past news stories from there of inventive ways people were relieving their boredom. But just like other tragedies that were affecting the unfortunate of other lands, the stories faded into the background of repetition. I remember when the first case was found in Washington, the surreal fear that hung like a thick cloud over my city, first forming as a gentle mist then accumulating into heavy dread. Once that first case was identified, things multiplied very quickly. Within a week, we were in lockdown with cases rising in an incredibly frightening exponential manner. I remember the last time I was in the room with someone without a mask on... that was.. 13 months or so ago. I was going into an interview for a funeral service assistant's position. It was raining. I was asked to accompany her to an home funeral the next morning, assist her in transporting the body of a family's child who had recently died. This frightened me, I didn't know if I could do it. And even then, the threat of a global pandemic seemed far off, even the lady blew it off, saying that the solution lie in an healthy immune system. "Healthy people don't need to worry about it." I drove home in the rain and picked up tacos for lunch. Everything was normal. But by the morning we were in a national lockdown as a result of the discovery of how widespread the virus was and just how deadly it could be. I never went to that child's funeral and I haven't talked to that lady since. Every day in those few long weeks in March of 2020 built on the growing panic and grief that was building in the depths of my heart, radiating out into my limbs, making it hard to think, or write, or sing. Every moment was spent obsessing over the potentialities of each moment. "What was going to happen? What were we going to do? How many people were going to die? How many of my friends and family members were going to do? " Going on and on and on. My mind revolved around the fear as a maypole where my body and emotions danced wildly around. Even in the bath, while taking long morning walks, while eating meals, everything centered around the pandemic. Doom-scrolling terrifying news articles telling of the devastation that would likely occur in the next months, criticizing the narcissistic, science-fearing president, who only increased the velocity of widespread horror, watching the rising death count with enrapt panicked attention. All of these things contributed to the slowing of time, which passed by moment by moment in a long exhale of a nation struggling to catch its breath after being engulfed by a wave that came on too fast and hard. Going into the grocery stores to find that most food and toilet paper were gone... that the supply chain might be limited, the reality of my city home's lack of food security becoming too real. I never thought I'd face this kind of global disaster in my lifetime. It was hard to accept. Even now, it is hard to fully accept. Approximately 3,000,000 people have died from this disease to this day, and many more will. Even though vaccinations are underway, the death rate now is at 42,847 on this day (April 4, 2021) as compared to the meager 5,989 on April 15th of last year. Then, we were horrified at that number. But now, we have grown so accustomed to daily deaths that were a numb from feeling any grief. It is hard to say what kind of effect this will have in the future years. All I know is, those first weeks have been burned into memory. I have been changed, for better or worse, by the year 2020.
• 
  2021-03-12

  Remembering Our Last Lunch

  On Friday, March 13, 2020 it was pouring rain. My co-worker/work wife/love of my life/bestest friend - the Ann Perkins to my Leslie Knope (very accurate if you know us) bought us McDonald’s for lunch. We jokingly called it “the end of the world as we know it lunch” and played REM while drinking Shamrock Shakes. We were in denial about what was happening around us. Two hours later, it was the end. We have not had lunch together, or been physically together, since then. (However, we probably outdo any teenagers in the amount we text each other. We’ve pretty much live tweeted ever minute of our incredibly mundane days to each other throughout all of quarantine.) Today, we both bought McDonald’s separately (for me, only the fifth time having fast food since shut down last March) to celebrate our year-versary of the “end of the world” lunch. One year later, it’s raining again, but it feels so different. A year ago, everything was closing down. Today, everything is opening up. I am thankful we’ve both received vaccination one, and although we are both apprehensive about school reopening in a week, the thought of seeing her face to face (six feet away and in a mask) makes me happy enough to cry. There is nothing I hope more for than for the efficacy of the vaccinations. I can only hope that the second Friday of March 2022 will see us together in my classroom, eating McDonald’s for lunch, talking about how we can’t believe we lived through a pandemic. A rainbow instead of rain would be a nice touch, too.
• 
  2021-02

  My Grandmother Watches Over Me

  Beep. Beep. Beep. I open my eyes and stretch. I smack that snooze button. The eagle stars at me. During these Covid-19 days, I’m able to spend time thinking about memories. Eyes close; I see darkness. I walk into my Grandmother’s house. A room has the eagle statue and a large window to see the birds. The eagle stars at me. All of a sudden, I am around family members at my grandmother’s memorial service. Beep. Beep. Beep. I open my eyes and stretch. I smack that dismiss button. The Eagle stars at me. My Grandmother is watching over me.
• 2021-02

  Vaccine

  I feel like I am running out of ideas for JOTPY entries so I thought I would share my excitement for my second vaccine appointment next week. While I know we still have a long road ahead with COVID-19, I am excited to take this next step for myself. The peace of mind will be worth it alone. It will be nice when the "plague year" is a memory rather than a current event following herd immunity.
• 
  2020-03-11

  Mental Health during the Pandemic

  On March 11th, 2020, my life changed drastically. Just over a month into my second semester of my freshman year at Duquesne University, I was excited to keep making memories with people who became like a second family to me. However, news of a virus on the other side of the world was spreading quickly. We never thought that it would come to this country or affect us in the slightest. But on this day, the entire student body received an email that would absolutely crush me: the email from the president of the University telling us that we would need to leave. When I received this news, I do not know which I was more scared of, this mysterious virus or not being able to see my new friends for a long time. At this point, I did not know how the virus was going to affect me. I had absolutely no idea how much tragedy was about to spread throughout the country. All I knew was that the high of being a college student, with independence and a new group of amazing people was being ripped away from me like a snap of the fingers. As soon as I got home, all I did was complain to my parents that I wished I was at school. Each time I did this, I would end up feeling terrible, because I knew that people were suffering. However, even though I knew I shouldn’t, I felt like I was suffering too. My entire life, I was raised as an only child. As a kid and in high school, I had an amazing group of friends that I still talk to today. When I went to college, I started spending every waking moment with my new group of friends, whether it be doing homework, watching movies, etc. I knew I wasn’t going to be with them year-round, but I knew that I was not ready to leave them in the middle of March. After all, the semester wasn’t even over yet. Spending the rest of my semester at home was extremely difficult for me. I felt so lonely, even though my friends were just a phone call or text away. However, every time I communicated with them, I somehow felt further away from them. It was a constant reminder that I should be with them, but I could not be. Throughout the last months of the semester and into the summer, my mental health rapidly. I knew I was experiencing a small form of depression, but I did not want to admit it to anyone because there were people in the world that were suffering more as a result of the virus. I soon found some form of comfort when I realized that other teenagers and first-year college students were going through the same thing as me. So many people were taken away from the people and places that they loved most, and everyone was having a hard time coping. The coronavirus has put the entire world through a lot, but each day I have hope that the end is near, and that we will all be reunited with the world we used to know.
• 
  2020-05

  Weekly Planner

  Attached is a picture of my planner from May of last year. I have always tried to keep a journal of some sort but over the past few years entries in my actual journal have become more sporadic, and I sometimes feel bad that I'm not documenting my life better. But I have found that I keep my memories and experiences in different ways. I keep post-its and planners and notes from past classes, all of which contain some view into a different time of my life. This page in my planner was probably drawn during class, or while waiting for another class to start. The goldfish stickers were there before I wrote the words around them, I'm pretty sure. Looking back now I could say maybe the goldfish and the misconception about their memory is a comment on the way isolation and lack of enrichment affects memory, but really I just had them nearby and thought they were cool. At this point the monotony of quarantine and online school and being out of work made a planner feel kind of superfluous and each page was less like an organized look at my week and more like a dumping ground for my thoughts. The speech bubbles near the fish read: "(I love you guys)" "What?" "I said let's count down so we can all sign off together!" Since moving back to my parent's house in March I haven't seen any of my friends in person. It's been nearly a year of movie nights over discord, all of us counting down and trying to press play at the same time despite the latency. There's a certain intimacy of talking to someone late into the night from my bedroom, surrounded by artifacts of my high school life. I'm afraid for myself and afraid for my friends but we don't talk about the big scary thing looming over all of us. It's been nearly a year and the space in between now and February feels both infinite and microscopic. I am still, but time goes on. I remember that I wrote "One day I will be disappointed (spelled incorrectly) I did not document history better" later in the week. Memory is fragile and I want to preserve it the best I can but lately I'm too tired to take down the details of each day. Maybe this vague collection of my thoughts will be valuable to future me, but I won't know until then so I'll hold onto it anyway.
• 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.”
• 2020-12-17

  A Ray of COVID Happiness

  Covid-19 has changed my summer in many different ways. For one, I have grown more in confidence since I’ve been inside for so many months. Being around myself and learning more about who I am allowed me to slowly accept myself. Also, I got to talk to my friends a lot throughout summer quarantine over Zoom and texts, so we were always around to uplift each other constantly. One of my favorite childhood memories is probably when my family and I traveled to Seattle for a few months and we auditioned for the Shake It Up Competition. I was obsessed with Zendaya, (and I still am) so that moment of time really showed me that it would be a dream of mine to be like her when I grow up. The day my sister and I auditioned was a great memory because we were just little kids in the moment who gave it a shot. Although we didn’t make it out of the hundreds of thousands, it’s heartwarming to me because we have been always trying to chase after our dreams in any circumstance. As for a regular update, I’ve been wanting to decorate my room so I’ve been compiling album covers I would want to see on my wall and hopefully being able to order print outs of those soon. To add on, I just applied to be an ambassador for a clothing company I saw on Tik Tok so hopefully I get chosen for that, because the fashion aesthetic the brand displays is so beautiful, Also, it's a black-owned business, so I’d love to support that. Overall, this pandemic has allowed us to recognize our gratitude and things we have a growing passion for.
• 2020-12-10

  My life in February. By Cory McEnroe

  My life in February was normal and pleasant. I was starting the baseball season and wrapping up basketball during this time. I remember on Valentine's Day a couple of friends and I went to the mall to hang out and have some fun. We were running around not knowing it would be the last time we would be allowed to. I mean just think about a normal 13-year-old boy's life. It was the best time of my life in 7th grade. I would hop around with my two main friend groups and talk about what teenagers talk about, sports, sleep, weekends. My friend Easton would run around on campus going up to random people and well actually you never knew what he was about to do. That's what I love about my friends, always lively and enjoying life. My normal day looked like getting up at 7 then getting to school around 8 and hustling to first period. Then after listening to people talk about math or something like that go to the next class, until we got to break. When we got to break and had just about the most intense games of basketball that you have ever seen. After a couple more classes we did the same thing at lunch. Then after like two more classes, I think, we headed on down to the locker room to get changed for baseball. We always had clean practices, little to no errors, and great hitting. Then I would pretend to do homework when I got home then I would actually do homework. Then I was in bed by 11:00. Then on March 13 we showed up to school and people were talking everywhere and the teachers met in the pod to talk some more, we didn't know what was happening so we went with the genius idea to tell everyone to go home and buy toilet paper. When I heard that a virus from a bat was spreading from China I knew something was wrong. Really? They can do better. It actually came from a lab because in China there are 1.4 billion people and because they are a communist country they don't care about their people. Also, think about it, corona only affects older people or people with respiratory problems (mostly old people). Making you think yet? Put the pieces together. Comes from a government-run lab, kills off older people, 1.4 billion people, a communist country, population control. It didn't come from a bat, you people are being lied to, there is a safe, cheap cure; hydroxychloroquine. They don't want you to know that because they want you to rely on the government. Sounds a lot like socialism. People don't think about the facts (99.92% recovery by the way), they just trust whatever they are told, whether that be through social media, TV shows, news, and other platforms. Do you know who wants to divide, break down, and control? The government and the devil. The situation we are in now is making the government look like a savior to us. Because WE (we being the government) have the vaccine, WE can flatten the curve, WE can be together by staying apart. See what I'm saying with this? They are seeing how far they can push us. No normal life before this matters until we know what's happening now. If we the people don't do something about this we will never go back to normal. I know that it was supposed to be about normal life in February but I want the facts in the history books.
• 
  2019-12-16

  A Pandemic Birthday

  With the outbreak of COVID-19 you never really understood how much it was going to change things. Everyone assumed we were going to be locked down for a couple of weeks then it will all be over. Now, it has been eight months and we are still under strict rules. One thing that we all took for granted was our birthdays. The younger kids did not understand why they could not have their friends over and the elderly were terrified to even leave their houses because they are more prone to catching COVID-19. So, the only people you could celebrate with were the people you were locked down with and depending when your birthday was, you were really not too fond of those people. Thankfully, someone came up with the idea of a drive by parade. That is when everyone jazzed up their cars with balloons and signs and drove by your house screaming “happy birthday,” making your day a little bit better.
• 
  2020-06-06

  Salem Stands with Black Lives

  On June 6, 2020, “Salem Stands with Black Lives,” a Black Lives Matter peaceful protest, was held in Salem, Massachusetts. Hundreds of masked individuals gathered in Salem Commons, wearing all black, with signs in support of George Floyd and all those who came before him. Attendants were required to wear a mask, keep physical distance from others, stay home if sick, and self-isolate or quarantine after the event. There were multiple speakers, a moment of silence for the deceased, and music. I attended the protest with my mother and sister. We saw people of all ages and ethnicities coming together in support yet staying physically apart. As we moved through the crowd in the Commons, we passed two young African American children playing in the grass. While walking close to them to avoid other people, we heard their mother say, “pull up your mask girls, these people are here for you, you want to make them feel safe too.” The video attached is from the event. You can see people masked, physically distanced, showing up during a public health emergency to support a cause they believe in. Not even a pandemic can stop democracy.
• 
  2020-11-14

  A Recollection of Feelings

  This was a short paper assignment from a professor for an English class and we had free range with it so I decided to write my feelings and experiences during COVID times and this was the result.
• 
  2020-09-14

  Jewish Melbourne: Sholem Aleichem Grade 6s ‘Gast Oyf Shabes’ - with Bronia Koperszmidt making the traditional Sholem Aleichem College honey cake recipe in Yiddish

  "Last Friday, the Grade 6s welcomed Bronia Koperszmidt as their latest ‘Gast Oyf Shabes’. Bronia, who is a former Sholem Aleichem College parent and current SACCEC student, taught the children how to make the traditional Sholem Aleichem College honey cake recipe in Yiddish. This recipe, which Bronia has been using since her children attending the school, is the recipe of Mira Zylberman (the former directress of the Sholem Aleichem Preschool and bobe of Lererin Reyzl Zylberman and Lererin Dvora Zylberman). The students were also taken on a photographic trip down memory lane to see how Bronia’s family connections to the College related back to the students themselves and their own journeys. We hope this will instill in them the understanding that our Sholem Aleichem College families remain a part of our community well-after leaving our college."
• 
  2020-10-14

  Reflections on Exchange and the Pandemic

  I wrote this article in October 2020, 7 months after I was forced to return home early from my university exchange semester in Edinburgh. Shared with my friends on Facebook, Instagram and Twitter, the article put it into words thoughts and feelings that had been on my mind for the previous 7 months. In it, I tried to capture how my last few days in Edinburgh felt: the rapid pace of COVID closures, the sudden goodbyes, the panic about travel plans and illness. Writing the article was an enormously cathartic process, and helped me process the confusing mix of emotions that I'd felt since returning to Melbourne. It is, far and away, the most complete summary of my experience of the pandemic that I can offer.
• -0007-10-18

  The Smell of Quarantine

  During the early days of the pandemic, I flew from my duty station at Marine Corps Air Station Yuma to Marine Corps Base Camp Lejeune to attend an eight week school. While most of the country was shutting down, the military was forced to find solutions to mitigate risk of infection while still maintaining readiness. The solution to this was isolating service members for two weeks prior to training, protecting potentially infected service members from each other while giving time to monitor for potential symptoms. Looking back at my experience being restricted to a room for two weeks, what stands out to me is not how I stayed occupied, the food that was provided, or how I communicated with family, but the smell of the particular hand soap I had in that room with me. Through meticulously using it to clean and wash my hands, the scent filled my room, and I became more annoyed with that smell than I was being restricted to a room. The smell of that soap slowly became my memory associated with the COVID-19 Pandemic. Looking back at that time, five months later, the smell of that soap still standouts as my COVID-19 memory, and I don’t think I’ll be buying that soap in the future.
• 
  05/07/2020

  Frank Smoot Oral History, 2020/05/07

• 
  2020-05-11

  A museum in China set up in memory of things have special meanings during the pandemic

  There are many photos about the museum set up in memory of heroes who fought in the first line of saving lives and things that have special meanings during the fight. I'm deeply touched by these things, such as a flight ticket for medical personnel and a chemical protective clothing used for saving so many lives.
• 
  2020-04-24

  #26: Silenced

  The title of this image specifically refers to the mask-ridden culture we are currently liviing in to contain the virus. It also refers to the 'silencing' of one's human/personal interactions, one's voice; one's community. In this isolation, the individual's pain and suffering become evident - not just for live's lost, people sickened, but loss of the 'normal'. www.niloumakes.com @niloumooch