January 20, 2020 – the first case of Covid-19 is reported in the United States. Not quite 6 months later, we now have 3,544,583 total cases of Covid-19 and 139,135 deaths. I look at these numbers several times daily. Country first, then Florida, then Lee County, then my zip code.

I saw someone make this comment on FB yesterday – “I miss the Tiger King part of quarantine.” The comment brought to mind the sourdough craze (I failed at this), the bubble of patriotism that moved me to place American flags along my landscaping, the news blips that brought tears to my eyes – people coming out of their houses each morning for the Pledge of Allegiance, families with their hands pressed up against the windows of nursing homes, musicians on balconies sharing a moment of peace with their neighbors.

These memories are in stark contrast to the country I find myself living in today.

There are areas of the country that seem to be returning to a more normal way of life. Covid never really got off the ground in some of these places. I don’t find myself living in one of these areas. I find myself living in a Covid “hot spot”. I find myself in a community brimming with open hostility towards others and defiance of safety measures. The place I live makes the news every single day for record numbers of some sorts (today it was deaths) but with a governor who continues to say everything is fine and a community that largely believes it’s all a political hoax.

When we moved here from St. Louis three years ago, I was shocked by the stark racism I heard here. It’s not like there wasn’t racism in St. Louis. There was. There is racism all over. I was unaccustomed, though, to hearing blatant and unapologetic “just between us white people” comments right out of the 1950’s.

My husband and I were waiting for our realtor at the first house we were to see that day. A truck drove towards us and stopped. A man came up to the drivers side window and asked if we were looking at that house. We said yes. He said – good, I just wanted to make sure you were white. I stated right afterwards that I most definitely did not want to live there, in that neighborhood. I didn’t realize that I was going to be hearing versions of this same comment over and over again in this city.

Ft. Myers is a very racially divided. The black community has been red-lined into a depressed area bordered by the river on one side. The second side is held in place by an affluent neighborhood. A major interstate makes up the third side and another affluent area finishes the square. There is not one Publix (the major grocery store of Florida) in this area. There is no property value to speak of. Some city money has been spent in this area (in the way of nice looking parks) but not in quality schools or community resources.

The city was segregated well into the late 1960’s. The black community was confined to the same area it is today. The ‘nicer’ neighborhoods got away with restricting black citizens from buying there. After legal changes, generalized unfriendliness and rising property values achieved what was no longer technically legislated. While the white families of Ft. Myers accumulated several generations worth of equity and inheritance during these years, the black families had little choice but to remain in an area where this was impossible.

The local hospital was the last organization to be legally desegregated, in 1966. To commemorate this occasion, Ft. Myers placed a bust of Robert E. Lee in the middle of downtown, where it remains to this day. The bust was preemptively removed as the protests/riots began in Minneapolis but many people, including myself, hope to influence the city to keep it wherever it is indefinitely. A tribute to a traitor and cruel slave owner who ordered brine poured on the freshly lacerated backs of his slaves, placed for one reason – a reminder to the black community that the Confederacy would always reign here. Even if they CAN legally go to the hospital. It is an embarrassment. After that we can work on this whole county being named after him.

More on Robert E. Lee bust in Ft. Myers here

George Floyd’s recent murder seemed to be a tipping point in America. This one man, this one situation is not unique. Although his life definitely mattered, although he was as valuable as you and I, it wasn’t him and it wasn’t the situation. To quite a lot of people, it was the last straw. There was a shift. Many white people who had been asleep suddenly opened their eyes. I was one of these people. I’d been aware of racism and always understood it was a problem in America. On some level, I even understood this went beyond the actions of a few racist individuals. Although I’d seen it, and it troubled me, I had never been roused to action. I have never been so acutely aware and ashamed of my silence and inaction as I was last month. Especially having moved to Ft. Myers where the racism was stark and blatant. I’d let it slide. I’d changed the subject. I’d looked at the floor uncomfortably. I never spoke up.

These twin crisis’ in America, racial tension and the pandemic, has truly made it feel as though the country is being torn apart at the seams. At times, the discord reaches a violent timbre. It is palpable, the vibration of people being {this close} to taking up arms and going at it old-school against each other.

It’s been a distressing time for a lot people. There has been a great deal of personal hardship, there has been a lot of uncertainty and distrust. I’ve had many people mention to me that their anxiety is out of control, that they are having dark days. Outside is not a comfort. There are not nights to go out with friends or on dates and have a good time. Things don’t feel right or usual. It feels like there will be no resolution. It feels the virus will hold us hostage and at odds with each other interminably. It feels like things get a little worse and a little more uncertain every day.

I stop sometimes and remind myself that it’s not like this all over the world. There are countries at peace. There are countries that were able to suppress covid more than we were. There are even Americans living in other states who are having much different experiences than I am having here.

My husband and I decided to return to lock-down a few days ago. I also hid almost every person I know locally on FB for my own well-being. I have been feeling distressed and off balance since quarantine was lifted (our governor lifted everything very quickly without waiting for data that it was safe to do so) and had justified this as 1) I’m in between chapters of life right now 2) I preferred the safe feeling of lock-down and had become more introverted during that time 3) maybe I was choosing to stay alarmed instead of choosing to move forward.

It was definitely more than that. I realize that now. I felt uneasy because there was cause to be uneasy. I was resisting because I had cause to resist, given the information I had available. The data I check daily, what I was hearing on the news and the growing number of people I know with the virus all told me that is was not well here.

As soon as this decision was made (after an unfortunate incident in which someone I considered a friend knowingly exposed me to covid) a lot of my negative feelings lifted. The distress had come from ignoring what I knew was right for me. This was just one more case in my life of choosing negative peace (going along with the group instead of my personal conviction) over the positive peace of honoring my own truth. I feared what people would say about me. That I was cowardly, overly compliant, a scared snowflake.

I’ve been really fortunate, honestly. Very much so. When lock-down began mid-March, my husband was already working from home. He had been traveling pretty regularly. That part of his job stopped immediately but the rest went on as usual. In fact, due to the technology he markets, lock-down gave his business a boost. Companies that needed to automate quickly rushed to do business. My job ended, immediately. I had my last day of work having no idea it would be my last day. We were not dependent on my income, though, and it did not hurt us financially when this happened. Within just a few weeks I became aware of how toxic my work situation had become and how much better I felt with it being gone. I decided to make my break with them permanently. We have grown children, so I was not faced with navigating remote learning for them. One child remained employed, the other was laid off but was collecting unemployment. It was not a financial hardship for us. My husband and I had just begun life as empty-nesters. I have really enjoyed this time with him. We take turns cooking and work together on house projects. We have evenings where we put our phones on the chargers, eat dinner, talk and laugh for hours. Why did things work out this way for me? I can only describe it as a “regression to the mean.” I have had more than my share of tough breaks, tragedy and bullshit in the past 5 years. I got to sit this one out.

So far, anyway.

This has been a time of really accelerated growth and healing for me, despite the storm that rages outside my home. I hadn’t fully appreciated how much of my energy was being diverted into navigating boundary pushers or into a job that was no longer serving me. These energy vampires were removed from my life immediately, requiring no action on my part. It was undone, magically, in a single 48-hour period. The energy I was no longer diverting into those situations was now available for other things. It’s me. I’m other things. My focus changed, shrunk to what was going on within the walls of my home. I was frightened of the silence, at first. Frightened of what I would need to sit with if I wasn’t keeping busy with my many distractions. And, at first, it was scary. It was uncomfortable. The things I needed to sit with, though, did not overwhelm me. They were not as bad as I’d feared. This gave me a sense of peace and confidence.

I started teaching fitness classes on zoom. I worked on this blog. I practiced my saxophone. I went through my closet and shoes, removing anything tied to unpleasant memories. I wore costumes to the grocery store for my once-weekly trips. Because I did this, I made friends with many of the employees there. A place I had gone many times feeling so very sad, a place that had become scary and foreign as the shelves were cleared of canned and paper goods became a place I looked forward to going. My husband made me a dance area out by our pool. My mirror was a sliding glass door. I could cue up choreography videos on the tv to learn. I met with my therapist by the pool as well, on my laptop. On Tuesdays I wrote, sometimes all day long. I redecorated the guest bedroom. First by creating three different decorating options, then by posting them on FB for voting. My friends list determined the winner, and I created it. A room where I had spent 3 very dark and desperate days last summer was transformed into a brand new space where I take yoga classes on zoom and play my saxophone.

Lock-down ended. The boundary pushers returned. My job wanted me back. I stopped my virtual zumba classes, assuming people would soon be back to their busy Saturdays of kids soccer and house projects. I’d hoped to move to teaching live classes, yet had no guarantee of when gyms would be busy enough again. I grew frustrated because I had things I wanted to do and they were not up and running (auditioning for plays, taking ballroom dance classes, become more involved in the anti-racism movement and volunteering in the arts community downtown.)

I realize now that, even though I had plans for myself, I had expected to pick up where I left off in March and go from there. But I am not the woman that I was in March anymore.

At some point this crisis will pass and the life I left in March will resume in some form – but I will no longer fit there. There are friendships I will be unable to resume. I will not be able to return to my job. While my gym will open back up, I will no longer fit there as a student. I wonder if even seeing my therapist in her office again will feel like returning to a space I have now outgrown. (If I even am in regular therapy at that point.) The rules of engagement have changed. I will no longer be silent in the face of racism. My personal relationships will be strained because of this. I have lost a great deal of my fear of disagreements. I am no longer so terrified of anger (in another person) that I immediately react to diffuse it, even if I was the one who deserved to be angry.

A few of the places we returned to (after months of quarantine) caused some flashback triggers. Time becoming slippery, the veil between 2019 and 2020 becoming too thin and no longer protecting me. The feelings of being me a year ago, struggling to do anything normal while dying inside. I am not her anymore. She was so strong. She held on, she made it to the other side. But I am not her anymore. I like my life now. I like the woman I am now. I don’t want the reminders of how it was for me, then.

It is a strange place to be – at peace with myself, and yet surrounded by chaos, unrest and division. To have the knowledge that the world does need me, that my voice will be heard, that my city will benefit from having me here – and yet be completely surrounded by uncertainty. Knowing that I cannot be heard now, above the chaos. To envision the things I will do in my future, vividly, but know a mighty storm is raging outside in the meantime. To feel newly born in a country that seems to be headed towards a terrible conclusion. To shed a tear remembering sourdough and the feeling of America unified – then another for the division and hostility everywhere around me. I feel the echoes of the personal battle I faced so recently. The painful shedding of the past, the struggle for authenticity, the willingness to make the necessary sacrifices for the greater good. It is much less controllable than when it was happening to just me, but there is still the hope of peace and rebirth on the other side.

“Team by team, reporters baffled, trumped, tethered, cropped
Look at that low plane, fine, then
Uh oh, overflow, population, common group
But it’ll do, save yourself, serve yourself
World serves its own needs, listen to your heart bleed
Tell me with the Rapture and the reverent in the right, right
You vitriolic, patriotic, slam fight, bright light
Feeling pretty psyched“

“It’s the end of the world as we know it
It’s the end of the world as we know it
It’s the end of the world as we know it and I feel fine
I feel fine”