The Importance of Diverse Primary Sources

The COVID pandemic is likely to be a defining event for several generations. Infection will have long-term consequences for some (maybe all). Gathering the histories of survivors seems important.

The pandemic is part of our shared life experience now. And maybe something we don’t feel we need to talk about cause we’d like to get on with other things, or we feel everyone has more or less the same story as us, so it’s a given, why talk about it? But time moves on. One day our lives will be other people’s history. And the primary sources we leave behind will be the raw materials by which they understand it. Academics and such will observe the pandemic from a distance, analyze events, and retell them to an audience unfamiliar with what it was like to be there.

But we are there.

If we write our stories, create poems, make art, bury time capsules with ephemera, etc. we can give folks in the future a better sense of what it was like to be where we were. Where we are. Having multiple diverse perspectives will give them better context, illustrate complexities, expose contradictions, illuminate patterns, spur critical thinking.

We Don’t Talk About It. But Can We?

In the early 2020s, we were presented with the COVID-19 pandemic, a multi-year, worldwide medical crisis caused by a new little contagious virus. When the reality of COVID started having palpable impacts on me in Columbus, Ohio, I thought back to the 1918 Influenza epidemic. It wasn’t that long ago, in the grand scheme of things. My dad’s parents probably lived through it. Their parents certainly did, but there weren’t any records of it. At least not in my family. And nothing practical about how they got through it and made ends meet.

I searched elsewhere and heard a few stories about heirloom furniture passed down through families with accompanying stories about how great aunt so and so had died on that very dining room table from the flu cause all the other beds were full to capacity with sick family members. And I saw the pictures in old newspaper articles of folks wearing cloth masks similar to the ones we wore. But I wanted more details. And I’d heard that after the 1918 Flu dissipated, it wasn’t talked about much. People just wanted to get back to normal.

And that’s kind of what we’ve done. We got the shot (or didn’t), shoved our N95s in the junk drawer (or didn’t), and tried to jump back in to the lives we’d put on pause. Or try to function given new limitations caused by the infection.

It can feel easier to not talk about it.

But, like…how often does trying to stuff down and suppress emotions even work on a small scale? I have a husband and a 9 year-old kid. They both have many wonderful traits. But my husband can’t close a cabinet door to save his life and my kid never manages to remember to screw the toothpaste cap back on after she brushes her teeth. How many times have I smiled and nudged the doors closed and found the cap that one of the cats had batted under the toilet and replaced it only to find myself days later ranting and losing my shit at them? The pressure of small unspoken resentments spilling out.

Think of almost eight billion people suppressing how they felt about muddling through a world-wide pandemic.

Can we talk about it?

Why We Should Talk About It

Chronically bottling up our feelings can make us anxious, depressed, and/or enraged. It can lead to physical stress in the body and  can get in the way of our ability to communicate honestly with our friends and family. It can cause us to resort to unhealthy coping mechanisms and self-destructive behaviors.

It can lead to burnout.

Talking (or writing) about it can help.

Talking about it can help you organize your thoughts instead of experiencing them as swirling anxiety, creeping dread, and overwhelm. Sharing helps you connect to others. Maybe they can suggest a solution to any concrete issues you are having. Maybe they can relate and make you feel less alone. Maybe your perspective is not recieving the attention it des