At the end of the day, my red mask hangs over my desk lamp and casts a warm glow in my bedroom. That is how I will choose to remember this time.
I will remember when my 10 foot by 11 feet bedroom in Seattle (the original ground zero for the COVID-19 pandemic in the United States) became my office, my school, and my only place of solace. I will remember the time the world retreated into itself as quiet walks around my neighborhood and the melancholy of an empty campus quad.
I will also remember those not lucky or fortunate enough to burrow into their homes until it was once again safe to return outside. Those who were working in the front lines without adequate personal protective equipment. Those slaving away in orchards, so I could pick a fruit of my choice at my local Trader Joe’s. Those dauntless in the fight for justice and against police brutality, even in the most trying of times.
I will remember George Floyd and Breonna Taylor.
I also will not forget those whom when asked to sacrifice small joys and pleasantries for our society’s most vulnerable, clutched their bloody hands to their brunches and fraternity parties.
I will not forget the needless and countless deaths at the hands of a selfish and inhumane leader. I will not forget politicians who prioritized money and their reputations over our lives.
I will remember saying hello to sweet friends and family through kaleidoscope screens of modern technology.
I will forget about the annoyance of online classes, all the hours of work lost, forfeited internships and studies abroad. All the seemingly important things, I thought I would remember.
Though this COVID-19 pandemic is far from over, there seems to be a small glimpse of a light at the end of a looking glass, with the hopes of a vaccine in the New Year. The only thing left is to ask yourself, if you were a part of creating that light, or creating the darkness that threatens its very existence.
What will you remember, and how will your actions be remembered?
