Hanna-17-Morton Grove, IL
My Letter
Dear Peter and Elise,
I never thought I would live during a pandemic. Who did? I am grateful now, two months after Trump declared COVID 19 a National Emergency, life is beginning to look brighter. Or, perhaps only I have changed and the world hasn’t?
I remember distinctly the week of the National emergency. I had my last classes in person, and everything fun got canceled. In Spanish, we were told there was a chance the college would be closed after spring break (we were to go on break the following week). None of us students were happy about the potential arrangement as E-learning would be a challenge. But of course, we had no power in foretelling the future; or changing it.
When I walked into the choir room for our usual rehearsal, the seriousness of COVID 19 hit me hard. The chairs were pulled farther apart from each other, kids would get up every few moments to squirt for the 101st time a hand full of hand sanitizer into their hands, and my choir director looked as if all life had been drained out of him. We all sat limply, quietly, tensely listening to him talk. He reassured us that we would proceed into the future with health as a priority. Naturally, our fundraiser and future gigs/concerts were canceled. There was a scarce chance we would have been able to get back together in the following two weeks and still hold our annual spring concert if we were told it was safe to do so. On the weekend, we got our answer: a definite cancellation.
That was only the beginning of cancellations and disappointments. I recall one of the choir members asking if we were going to sing at all that rehearsal helping the entire room erupt in laughter jarring the eerie silence. We needed a good laugh. About all of us were chomping at the bit to sing, after all, that was what we had shown up for. So, we sang...our last song together: Radio Active. A great pick; singing about an apocalypse while our life was entering one. I choked up so bad the first portion of the song my voice was a mere whisper. What cleared my throat and prevented me from bursting into tears was the potential that we would see each other again in two weeks. We did...over zoom..to chat.
The weekend the National Emergency was called, my life blew up in front of my eyes. I was devastated! I could not see my friends, go to activities, see a performance my friends were in, go to a spring dance, Mexico, or even Makajawan (Scout Camp). Worst of all, I had no idea what the future held. Except for a fat nasty gnarly question mark laughing at my face.
The two weeks following the new change were a blur. Mom “lost her job” as she had no place to practice and see patients. Dad had to lay off some people at his job, wondering if he was next. I went around every day doing..not much. I suddenly had all this time on my hands and no guidance..no schedule. For at least a week I did not know the day or date. I did not feel the need to have to.
Slowly, visible changes outside my window were made..playgrounds were closed off with ugly signs and caution tape, the tennis court got its share of a blockage too. Basketball hoops were blocked off. Stores were shut down leaving towns looking abandoned as ghost towns or during WWII when the Jews were forced to suddenly shut down their shops. The beaches were closed threatening a hefty fine to whoever dared set foot on them. “What next?” I thought. Neighbors began wearing face masks-some even gloves, avoiding each other on the
