Under the Black Light

A week and a half into the Coronavirus pandemic, where are we and where do we go?

I created this account two months ago to publish reviews, articles, and essays about visual arts and drama. Still new to this format, I’ve spent almost a year crafting personal responses to films and plays through Medium and my website, make-a-noise.net, and have been excited to compose more pieces about the great new works that the year 2020 would see.

But now everything has stopped.

I am scared, as surely most people are. With hundreds of thousands of people infected around the globe with COVID-19, tens of those thousands dying, cities declaring stay-at-home policies forcing businesses to close and millions of citizens unemployed, the economy tanking at rapid rates, and our self-congratulating President lying about his effort’s to combat a virus that only a few weeks ago he deemed a “Democratic hoax”, the new Ben Affleck movie is not what’s on my mind.

Three days ago, I was making the ten-hour drive from my hometown in Mississippi to vacate my college dorm in Savannah, Georgia for the unforeseeable future. It was a grueling trip full of conversations uncertain about the future with my middle-aged working mother, stressed because she must find a way to shift her work as a hands-on counselor of autistic and disabled children to a virtual form. We arrived at our hotel in the city that night to find a dark and empty lobby with one tired, bearded desk clerk. As he checked us in, the man had the courtesy to ask where we were from and how our hometown was dealing with the crisis.

“Probably the same as yours”, my mom replied.

The clerk gave a scared laugh and told us that the hotel had laid off half its staff, with more cuts expected soon, and the entire kitchen staff had been fired as that part of the building was closed. He had fear in his voice as he told us this.

After the move out the next day, we met up with a friend at an Italian bistro, a favorite eatery of mine. We were the only patrons in the restaurant consisting of two cooks and one waiter. With the latter, the same conversation: layoffs…more to come…this is a scary time…etc.

During the drive back, I sat in the passenger’s seat and read Neil Simon’s Chapter Two to take my mind off of things. All I could think about while reading was how these characters weren’t feeling what the real world was feeling; how Neil Simon never lived to see this pandemic. The characters in this play went out and had paying jobs; they only had to deal with their inner turmoil. Like a fool, I kept thinking about how lucky these fictitious people were.

Almost everybody’s out of work. Most of my friends have lost jobs, their parents as well. At the moment I rely on my content for revenue, and with the closure of movie houses prompting delayed releases and the entirety of Broadway theaters shutting down, I don’t have much to write about.

Besides, I am too distracted. I am hungry for information, like most people. I am constantly checking to see how the number of new cases has increased or if, oh brother, we’ve flattened the curve by some miracle (we haven’t). I want to help in some way, but the only way I truly can at the moment is by doing nothing.

Suddenly, it’s harder for me to do nothing that ever before.

This is a moment for history books. You’ve probably heard the phrase “an unprecedented time” spoken a lot recently. I hate it. I’m so sick of living in an era without precedent. I want to live in a time that’s exactly like another time (and no, I will not accept the Black Plague as a precedent, thank you very much).

I do not know how long we will be in isolation, but we will look back on this period and shudder. Also, we will be a changed people. I cannot pinpoint how, yet, as I am still trying to process all of this said information and find some light in this darkness. We do not know if folks will remain unemployed, if businesses will re-open, or if our cultural institutions will bounce back from this disaster.

For those of us that make it through, here is what I hope, though…

I hope that we garner a larger emphasized sense of collectivism. We are all part of the problem and the solution. If one person does not take this seriously, they are a threat to millions of others.

I hope that we hold our leaders more accountable for the lies, abuse of power, and selfishness. This is the final straw, and I find it despicable that it has come to the point of a pandemic for we the People to take action against our Government. Our response has to be vicious and fast. Remember, Primaries are happening as you are reading this and November is just around the corner. Vote these people out however you can.

I hope that our next President will realize from this the necessity for universal health care. There’s a story going around about an uninsured woman who’s total cost of Coronavirus treatment is over $30,000.

I hope that we will turn to rewarding the medical professionals; those that are spending long hours treating, testing, tirelessly conducting research, and helping forward the positive change. Dr. Anthony Fauci is just one of these heroes. It is these folks who we must listen to and depend on for information during this time.

I hope that we explore and practice our faith in science, religion, spirituality, or nature, and cling to it harder than ever going forward.

Mostly, I hope that when the Black Light is turned off and we are free to open our doors and go to a bar or the beach without the fear of impending doom, our art will reflect this change.

I’m not going to tell you to stay safe, because if you haven’t been doing that thus far I’m most likely not going to be the one to convince you.

I will say that I hope to see you on the other side of the curve.