Admittedly I’m consumed by the bad news du jour about the globe-crushing coronavirus wreaking havoc here and abroad. And while statistics paint one aspect of a very large picture, the “real people” part—not numbers—is worthy of focus.
For a hyper-local perspective on how COVID-19 and its social distancing requirement is affecting the lives of humans in our ‘hood, I wanted to zoom way in….to my own block in the Beaumont-Wilshire neighborhood. How this very bad bug is affecting those in proximity to my husband and me—and how they’re dealing with it—serves as a glimpse into what those in B-W and beyond may be experiencing. On our block the gamut of income-generating means (or not, at this moment) runs wide and includes: a hairdresser, restaurant owner, and bartender out-of-work by coronavirus-driven government dictate, not by design; a white-collar employee of a large company who can work from home….with three children out of school; a nurse, blessedly not on the front lines of coronavirus care; a work-from-home engineer, work-from-home I.T. contractor, and work-from-home communications contractor (me); a vacation rental owner (my husband and also me); a single-mom with a first-grader who had to decline a new job due to the challenge of no school or daycare; and several retired folks (including my husband) with incomes mercifully not affected by the business shutdown.
Income loss, swift and without warning, varies by job category. The fully retired and able-to-work-at-home type are faring the best thus far. And thankfully our bartender neighbor was able to secure unemployment benefits very quickly, unlike the stories one sees on the news. However, contrary to Senator Lindsey Graham’s prediction, he isn’t lazing around enjoying his newfound “wealth”—instead he’s anxious and would very much prefer to be working. The self-employed are a little nervous, hoping the unemployment benefits that have been temporarily established for folks in that category prove to be real.
I feel fortunate. My biggest client is a municipal agency; hopefully its funding will remain stable. Our vacation rental? That’s another story. All but one of our existing spring and summer bookings canceled. But as life handed us lemons, our “lemonade” appeared as a delightful woman who lives on Alameda Street, but who, due to some health issues, is more vulnerable to COVID-19. To distance herself from her family (and everyone!), she’s renting our guest house for the next few months.
On the VERY bright side, our block-dwellers are following the prescribed social distancing policies—knock on everything—and no one on our block has been ill. Perhaps the self-designated “hall monitor” who questions our every move gets the credit and always a hearty laugh when he jokingly admonishes us for heading out on a walk or getting into a car.
Amidst our prescribed “alone time,” someone on the block took up the national trend of 7:00 p.m. bell-ringing in appreciation for COVID-19 health care workers, bringing neighbors to their porches to whoop it up in honor of those hard-working folks who don’t have the luxury of self-isolating.
In this noise-making nightly backdrop, we managed a birthday party for a lonely 7-year old on the block while keeping the recommended six feet apart. (Mostly). It allowed us time to say hello, hear horror stories about bored teenagers, share our concerns about coronavirus, wonder aloud whether we’ll be changed for the better as a nation after many weeks or months of confinement, and console those with newfound economic woes.
As we’re encouraged to “stay home” in a collective effort to kick this disease to the curb, I am grateful I’ve come to know my neighbors since moving here 8 years ago. Why? Because there’s comfort in the sense of being in-it-together via distance-appropriate sidewalk chats, over-the-fence salutations, and shared laughter, which is, as is said, the “best medicine.” And for the time being, our only medicine.