Dear friends, family, fellow travelers,
Gosh ... I hope this email finds you and yours well.
It's been a wild, wild windstorm of a week in our little corner of the world here in Boston -- and, I suspect, in your corners as well. In less than a week here in Boston we went from mostly normal but wash your hands a bit more than usual to social distancing preferrably social isolation on a major scale. On Tuesday morning the director of the library and I met briefly to strategize what technology we would need to transition to remote reference in the event of a total shutdown of the physical library operations ... by 4.30pm that afternoon, the Massachusetts Historical Society had announced we would be closed to the public until further notice starting on Wednesday. As I write this in a quiet local cafe near Hanna's workplace at Harvard Medical School, Hanna is wrapping up her final day of work in the office before HMS shuts down all non-essential operations for the duration and both of us are working remotely until further notice.
Image: Teazle, smol overlord, supervises the mommies at work.
"Unprecedented" is the word everyone keeps throwing around. As a historian, I am wary. There is always precedent. I haven't hard time to locate it, although Hanna's been reading books about London during the plague and last night I was considering a re-read of Connie Willis' The Doomesday Book (although it has the dubious honor of being one of the handful of books that has made me openly weep on the subway...). Anyway. Not uprecedented, but certainly a novel experience in the lives of many of us. I think one of those moments in which a collective event may re-organize our thinking about the fundamental shared assumptions we have about the social contract. Some things I hope come out of this situation for the better in terms of public health and our well-being as humans and communities:
Gosh ... I hope this email finds you and yours well.
It's been a wild, wild windstorm of a week in our little corner of the world here in Boston -- and, I suspect, in your corners as well. In less than a week here in Boston we went from mostly normal but wash your hands a bit more than usual to social distancing preferrably social isolation on a major scale. On Tuesday morning the director of the library and I met briefly to strategize what technology we would need to transition to remote reference in the event of a total shutdown of the physical library operations ... by 4.30pm that afternoon, the Massachusetts Historical Society had announced we would be closed to the public until further notice starting on Wednesday. As I write this in a quiet local cafe near Hanna's workplace at Harvard Medical School, Hanna is wrapping up her final day of work in the office before HMS shuts down all non-essential operations for the duration and both of us are working remotely until further notice.
Image: Teazle, smol overlord, supervises the mommies at work."Unprecedented" is the word everyone keeps throwing around. As a historian, I am wary. There is always precedent. I haven't hard time to locate it, although Hanna's been reading books about London during the plague and last night I was considering a re-read of Connie Willis' The Doomesday Book (although it has the dubious honor of being one of the handful of books that has made me openly weep on the subway...). Anyway. Not uprecedented, but certainly a novel experience in the lives of many of us. I think one of those moments in which a collective event may re-organize our thinking about the fundamental shared assumptions we have about the social contract. Some things I hope come out of this situation for the better in terms of public health and our well-being as humans and communities:
- Let this be all the nails in the coffin of the Trump regime.
- Like, seriously.
- Universal, publicly-funded accessible healthcare for all. No one's healthcare should be job-dependent.
- Universal, publicly-funded basic income. No one's financial security should be job-dependent.
- Universal, publicly-funded housing. No one's housing should be job-dependent.
- A permanent cultural shift against valorizing people who soldier on through illness, endangering their lives and the lives of others.
- A permanent cultural shift against overwork. Too many of us have experienced this emergency situation primarily in terms of relief from overburdened social and work lives. That's a wake-up call.
- A permanent shift to the Internet as a public utility.
- A permanent shift away from a cap on paid sick time. People should not be ill and working, at workplaces, period.
- A permanent shift away from micro-managing of worker time and activities. Hopefully a lot of employers will learn that we get work done, and done well, when we're healthier, less stressed from exhausting commutes, and in work environments that best meet our individual needs.
Image: Scene from Clover Food Lab earlier today when I was writing this newsletter. Tomorrow, all restaurants in the Commonwealth go takeaway only.
Image: Knitting with rainbow yard on a needle; working on my latest scarf which will go up for donation to the COVID19 Relief Fund for Displaced Archives Workers on Persistent Stitches.Some things that Hanna and I are doing to keep our communities healthy and occupied while we all spend more time at home (maybe it will inspire you and/or spark similar or new ideas for you too!):
- We're purchasing gift cards from places we would normally shop in our local communities, particularly coffee shops and other small local eateries that will be hard-hit by state emergency measures and the drop in food traffic (however necessary). This puts cash in hand for the businesses, and we'll use the credit down the road in healthier times.
- Crafting for Persistent Stitches. (Until further notice, all donors receive a flower button keychain and two cloth napkins in addition to their purchase at no additional cost!) Will you be crafting to cope with stress during the immediate future? Consider becoming a Persistent Stitches crafter to raise funds for a cause related to Covid-19 / coronavirus relief. I'll be posting my next few pieces in support of the COVID19 Relief Fund for Displaced Archives Workers (still in development).
- Even though we're in low-risk categories, Hanna and I will be taking ourselves out of social circulation as much as possible for the next few weeks in order to minimize the chances of being carriers of the virus either for ourselves or other people who are members of high-risk groups.
- A valiant neighbor has volunteered to be the point person for folks who need errands run, etc., and cannot risk going out, so Hanna and I have put our names on the list of people who can be available as a resource if someone has something that needs doing in our immediate neighborhood.
- I've decided to offer e-book romance novels to folks via Twitter, with this thread being updated weekly with a title and a number of copies we can afford for me to give away via Kindle vouchers. I'll be doing this for as long as the shutdown lasts.
As of this writing, there are still copies of A Little Familiar left if gay romance with some witchery is your thing! Email me to snag your copy today ;-).
Image: Five patterns from my current cloth napkins in progress, to fulfill those Persistent Stitches orders!And with that -- since the cats are staring me down from across the room, reminding me that it is Almost Kitty Dinner Time and They Are On the Brink of Starvation -- I'm going to sign off and open my beer. I hope that the April 2020 edition of this newsletter brings us more hopeful public health news and beautiful, blooming signs of spring come to New England.
Image: Christopher, in black and white (and very very ready for dinner...).Stay safe, be kind,
Anna