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Contributor is exactly
Erica Price
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2021-04-15
Second Semester Done, One Year In, But What Will I Miss?
The end of the semester is near, with one week left in my college semester and only a few weeks left at the high school where I work. As my first year as a Ph.D. season comes to a close, I have to say I am actually going to miss some parts of spending the year going to class via Zoom. It’s been nice to not have to worry about superficial things like my outfit and practical things like making sure my water bottle is full and that I have had lunch before class. Zoom is exhausting. Being aware that my classmates can see me, and I can see everyone else all at once. Sure, I can hide self-view, but in a way that makes me more nervous because I won’t be able to see if my face looks silly. I spend a lot of time holding my face in a specific way to avoid “resting bitch face” that I often end my 2.5-hour classes with headaches and jaw tension. I guess I won’t miss that. Monitoring chat and live conversations is a nightmare. So much so that I don’t pay much heed to the chat at all. I won’t miss that. Not having to find parking on campus though... that has been super nice. Not having to account for traffic, being able to schedule appointments more easily. It’s also allowed my professors to be in other states for meetings when necessary or step out for other Zoom meetings when they have to for a few minutes and then return. I guess it is what we have been saying for the better part of nine months now, that we have always had the ability to be flexible, just no willpower, and the pandemic has shown us that we really can be flexible. Selfishly it makes it easier to work and go to school as well. I haven’t missed a single class all year. It made being a TA easier too, since I didn’t have to go to campus for those classes either, which would have further complicated a work schedule. I am ready to go back to school, after three online master’s degree, the perpetual student in me was so excited to go back to campus for classes and be a part of a college campus again and I didn’t get that because of the pandemic, but I think in some ways it made the transition easier for me. It made it easier for me to feel like I could do it all at once. -
2021-04-15
Vaccinated, but how soon is too soon?
I have been vaccinated for a month now and I know that I have a research trip coming up to New Orleans, but I am still wary. We talk at work all the time about how we are vaccinated and wear masks everywhere, but we still feel like it’s too soon to get back to that much of real life. We still know people who are hospitalized and dying of COVID, but without the vaccine, so if we have it we should be fine? I certainly plan to double mask up on my flight to New Orleans with a box of KN-95s that I purchased on Amazon a bit ago. I carry my vaccine card everywhere; I hope the vaccine passport becomes a thing. In the same way that I don’t like to shop at places that are not requiring masks or offer medical exemptions, I would rather go places that require the vaccine. Certainly, other countries will require it upon entry and that might very well make them safer than the US, which of course I don’t expect to require anything under the guise of freedom or some nonsense. “oh no, we can’t make people get the vaccine to travel!” without realizing that their kid needs MMR, Polio, DTAP, and the chicken pox vaccine to go to school. All I am saying is that if you made a Venn Diagram of the people who think its okay for a bakery in Colorado to refuse baking a cake for a gay wedding and the people who don’t think a private business can require a mask is almost a perfect circle. But maybe this is all psychological? Maybe I am afraid that being out in the world, despite being “safe” gives the wrong impression. That unless I wear a mask that has “Fully Vaccinated” printed on it and hang my vaccine card from my neck, people will look at me, out and about, and assume that I don’t believe in the pandemic or staying home and staying safe? Am I more afraid of people who are also out, but safely, thinking I am not safe, or am I afraid that people who think the pandemic is a hoax will think that I am one of them? As much as the mask lets me hide my facial expressions, it doesn’t hide enough that I am not still worried about what others think of me. -
2021-03-18
With Hope
Today is Thursday, March 18, 2021. Saturday, March 13, was the first anniversary of the Friday the 13th that essentially broke the world, and that was our last day of normal. Or at least that’s how we all remember it now. On Monday, March 15, 2021, the students at my high school returned in “full swing” for the fourth quarter of the school year. I mean by full swing that we have no A and B days, and we are not all virtual. We still have an asynchronous day on Wednesday, but we all know that will soon go away. Many kids are staying virtual, and I don’t know how long that will be an option. So, we have had three days of students back on campus, and I think I would be much more concerned if I myself were not vaccinated, but I am fully vaccinated, and my husband completed his two-week waiting period a couple of days ago, so my house is “safe.” (Though I don’t totally feel that way yet) I don’t work on Wednesday right now, so we celebrated being fully vaccinated by going to an outdoor brunch, which was totally socially distanced, and I appreciated it a lot. I digress, though… school feels like school again. Sure, we limit the number of students who come into the library at lunch, but they are here, the halls bustle, and kids' noise in the hallway trails through our open library doors between periods again. Unfortunately, we are jumping back into things right in time for state testing, so we got this week of “bliss” before things become chaos of finding computers to test, getting students to make sure their computers are updated, and the general panic of finding space and making schedules that comes with any year of state testing. I want things to continue to trend in a direction where I don’t have to rescind all this hope a couple of months from now. -
2021-02-27
Pandemic Fashion
Since the beginning of the pandemic, I wore a mask. I think I went one place without one on Friday, March 13, as the world fell apart and I was driving home to Phoenix from my mother’s house in San Diego County. But since then, I have been collecting masks the way I would collect graphic and band tees as a teenager and young adult. I have developed “criteria” for what I like, prefer, and even need in a mask. I think about it when I pick one each day. If I am wearing patterns, I grab a solid mask in a complementary color. Solid outfits open up the gates to lots of options. Very quickly, I realized I needed a way to manage these masks. The two hooks that hang near our front door for stocking at Christmas promptly became something else. A bin of clean masks hangs on one hook and a lingerie bag on another. The routine is simple, grab a mask from the container as you leave, come home and drop it in the bag. When the bag is full, zip it up and drop it in the wash. Done! So here are some of my favorites: • Baby Yoda • Disneyland Spirit Jersey style • Old Navy, Old Navy, Old Navy – they come in five packs, available for every season and holiday, prints and solids, easy to grab, cannot say enough • And, of course – the true hero of the pandemic, masks made with love. My coworkers and I have chosen the raccoon for our library mascot. My boss’ mom had this beaver fabric just sitting around, so she made one for each of us (bonus points, this one has a nose wire), and finally, the same wonderful ex-co-worker of our department who made us all the raccoon masks made school-themed ones for us, the Desert Vista Thunder, one with lightning bolts and one with the school colors in the plaid. • Our other library theme is rainbows and all things equality – down to the matching rainbow Apple Watch bands we have to pair perfectly with this rainbow hearts mask from the Human Rights Campaign. I am not ready to give up wearing masks. I have both doses of Pfizer, and it has been two weeks, but I still think masks are a good idea and something that I will for sure be wearing when I feel any kind of sick post-pandemic if that ever happens. It’s the responsible thing to do, and frankly, I have too much invested into my masks and management system to say goodbye to it anytime soon. -
2021-02-18
#WhenIAmVaccinated
I have been vaccinated. I got both of my shots, waited the requisite two-week waiting period, which mysteriously dropped from 30 days to 14, and so as of yesterday, I am as fully vaccinated as I can be. And I am still not traveling. I will continue to wear a mask. In fact, I will be double masking when students return to the high school I work at following spring break. There is still a pandemic. Not enough people are vaccinated. I don’t truly know how effective the vaccine is, no one does. And most of all, I want to make a statement. That masks are important. That masks are important. That social distancing is important. That I might still catch COVID, be asymptomatic, and pass it on. Herd immunity is essential. A lot of life I want to get back to, but I know that so many things should not go back to the days of 2019 and early 2020. We cannot forget. We cannot become complacent. Okay – sometimes I want to keep wearing the mask so hide my sneers so no one can see. ;) -
2021-02-03
Vaccinated.
Last night I got my second dose of the Pfizer vaccine for COVID. I feel like it should have been easier than this. I got my first dose of the vaccine at Chandler-Gilbert Community College, which we found out later was a county-run rather than a state-run location. Cardinals Stadium in Glendale is a state site. So the difference amounted to not getting the email about my second appointment for an anxiety-inducing long time. So when a new block opened up at the stadium, I signed up to get my second shot on the 21st day after my first, at the earliest opportunity. My husband’s appointment for his first dose is two days later. We arrived at the stadium, got my appointment number chalked on the windshield, and wove through a maze of cones and banners toward the check-in tents. When we pulled up, the lady checked my number and couldn’t find me. She searched for my birthday and couldn’t find me. She searched by my name and couldn’t find me. She took my ID and walked off to find a supervisor. I stared at my appointment confirmation email on my phone while she did all of this. The supervisor returns and, after asking to look at my email, handed me a clipboard. “We are going to sign you in as a walk-in, which doesn’t even exist right now. We can’t take walk-in rights right now because it’s possible that people with appointments won’t get their short today because our daily inventory is low.” That’s why my husband was not one of the lucky ones that we have heard stories about who got to get their dose early by coming along with someone who had an appointment sooner than them. I filled out the form, the lady made me a new appointment on her tablet, and the confirmation email for an appointment slot one hour before appeared. We turned the truck back on and moved through the second maze to the next set of tents, where they covered the same questions before sending us under the second tent where a younger man gloved up, came around to the passenger door, and quickly injected me. He must have seen that we were younger as we pulled up, even with our masks on, because he said to me, “Alright, I will give you this if when I do you scream, FUCK COVID,” which of course I agreed to. But if you have had the vaccine yet, you know it goes by so quickly that I barely got out the FU.. before he said, “okay, you’re good to go.” A third maze brought us to the line of cars waiting their 15 minutes to see if they have a bad reaction before pulling out and heading back home. I now had my second dose, and my husband has yet to get his first, so we didn’t need the help of the people milling between cars signing up people for second doses who had just gotten their first. We got to the front of the escape line and then were released, maybe a few minutes before the 15 were really up, but we were off. My COVID card is complete. When I got my first dose, the guidance was that 30 days after your second dose is your true “good to go” date because it has had time to take effect, but in the last three weeks, that has been shortened to two weeks. I don’t know if that is smart or accurate, or if, like everything, people want this to hurry along so things can go back to “normal” after we have been at this for a year. But vaccines are still hard to get, kids can’t get it, and we don’t know how long it will be effective, so maybe we shouldn’t get too excited. -
2021-02-02
Silences in Archives, Some Hopeful Musings
Gaps seem to be just about the only commonality among all public, digital, and academic history projects. One project simply cannot look at everything, nor should it. But this does not mean that each of these gaps should be considered silences. Silences in the archives are more specific. And they are typically the result of silences in the historical archives, left by those collecting the material or creating the documents. Silences can also appear naturally, for example, those who are either unaware of the Journal of the Plague Year, do not have the technical knowledge or infrastructure to access to it, are unaware that they are encouraged to participate, or who do not believe that the COVID19 pandemic is "real." In the present, they represent people who cannot or will not enter their stories into the archives. When large numbers of people in those groups do not contribute, that creates silences for the historians and humanists who will use the archive in the future to attempt to make arguments about 2020, and seemingly, 2021. The archive structure does not exclude these voices by design, but the tangible and intangible realities of the world that it is born into and built in does. And they are hard to account for, even in the most thoughtfully constructed projects and archives. Attempting to correct these silences by making entries on behalf of those perceived as "the silenced" does not always close the gap and sometimes actually silences them in favor of another's narrative. One exception might be that a tech-novice writes a story on paper, and a family member posts a photo of the paper with a verbatim transcription to the archive, listing the original author as its creator. Or assists with an audio recording as a piece of oral history and shares it. But to write stories about another, as another, seems disingenuous to the spirit of the project. Hopefully, if in 50 years the JOTPY is still a two-way street where material can be discovered as well as entered, historians, genealogists, and other humanists will scan, add, and upload the digital and analog records and accounts they find in their work, so that in 100 years historians have fewer silences to contend with. This future, of course, is reliant on sustainability, usually grounded in funding for digital projects and reliant on humanists interested in running it. Many digital public history projects are defunct online due to lack of sustainability and compatibility, and those recorded voices become lost, silencing and re-silencing them over again. -
2021-01-22
The Silver Lining of Pandemic Community Building
I have a busier schedule now than I did when I left the house for more than grocery runs and work. I spend a lot of my time on Zoom, as we all do, but doing things I was not doing before. In April, quickly after Friday the 13th, my #twitterstorian dreams came true when Dr. Joanne Freeman launched History Matters…. And So Does Coffee with the National Council for History Education. A couple of months later, The Gilder Lehrman Institute launched a weekly series talking with a historian about their book called Book Breaks. I could never attend conferences like the Southern Historical Association annual meeting, and now they were available to me virtually. The Western History Association annual meeting was online in October 2020 and was one of the best conferences and online meeting experiences that I think is possible given the circumstances. I have seen Joanne Freeman and Dr. Heather Cox Richardson speak together frequently over the last few months, and each experience is just as fun as the previous. I am on the board of the Arizona Technology in Education Association. The ability to host events and PD without needing to secure locations and catering has increased the number of events that we host by what feels like tenfold. I also started my Ph.D. in history at ASU, and with those added time blocks to my schedule expanded my little world with cohort and classmates. The pandemic has forced us to come together in new ways. By trying to carry on, those components of our lives shifted to the internet and thus actually made them more accessible to our larger communities than they were before. It has prompted even more of the existing conversations about virtual conferencing from an economic and environmental perspective. Don’t get me wrong, I am eagerly awaiting my 2nd vaccine and the days when I can travel for conferencing, community, and research again, but I think I will frame my plans around a different question. I don’t believe that I will have to ask myself to choose what to attend and not attend. Instead, it will be what things do I want to engage with in person (and what things can I) and what things I will still attend, but from afar. We are closing in on a year in this pandemic, and with the new year, I think it is essential to try and find some kind of silver lining – and it is that I think the communities that we have built over the last year and continue to build will be larger and stronger. Now I suppose I need to mull over the ramifications of overscheduling, burnout, and prioritization.