Monday, April 6, 2020

Captain's Log, Day 7: There's No Going Back To Who and What You Were Before


Date: April 6, 2020
Time of post 11:45 PM
Quarantine Day: 22
Last Song I Listened To: “Infinity” by One Direction
Last Person I Communicated With: the Apocalypse class GroupMe
Last Thing I Ate: macaroni and cheese
Last Thing I Read: The Way of Thorn and Thunder by Daniel Heath Justice
Current Mood: meh
One Thing I’ve Accomplished Today: grocery shopping (and what a task that was)
One Thing I Want To Accomplish Today: watch the short film for class
One Reason I’m Stressed Today: I’m weirdly concerned that the UK Prime Minister has been hospitalized with COVD; like, I was for some reason convinced that world leaders wouldn’t get it
One Reason I’m Happy Today: my parents have been sending people in the cohort congratulations cards when they pass their defenses, and people are so surprised and happy when they get them! (Molly got hers this week!)



"There’s no going back to who and what you were before,” Unahi to Tarsa, pg. 32 of Daniel Heath Justice’s The Way of Thorn and Thunder (2011).

Dear Apocalypsers,


This week for class, we’re reading a high-fantasy novel by a friend of Dr. Tatonetti’s, and the above quote really stuck out to me. (Side-note: I cannot wait for the day that I can teach novels written by my friends. It’s an inevitability at this point. I’m putting it out into the universe.)

We keep saying “when this is over;” stores have signs that say “temporary hours,” and I’m reminded again of the tenacity and persistence of the human spirit. Yes, this will pass, as every other pandemic has in the past—but when we step out of our houses and apartments like Plato’s proverbial man inthe cave, will it be the same world? I’m no expert, but I hope we’ve changed. And I don’t just mean that I hope we hold onto this sense of community and respect for healthcare workers, grocery store cashiers, and postal workers or our newfound appreciation of teenagers in fast-food jobs and everyone else in food service—though all those things are good and should ideally continue. Tragedy always brings the nation closer…for a little while, at least.

And I don’t just mean that the world might get their act together and wash their hands regularly and that governments will be more prepared for future crises (though as long as Trump as in charge, I doubt the U.S. will).

I think the world will feel different. We’ll have lived through a major historical event (I hate myself a little for typing that; I’ve seen it so many times, and I’m kind of over it), and that changes someone. 

Changes us.

Hopefully for the better.

I know that I already feel different. I’m not sure how to articulate it right now, but I already feel more appreciative and more grateful. I also feel angrier and a little more cautious. I’m definitely even more aware of how very ill-prepared we are for disaster and how incredibly lucky we are not to have had a pandemic of this scope in 100-ish years.

Really, to quote Taylor Swift, “All I know since yesterday is / Everything has changed.” And that’s a very surreal thing to be aware of. I’m not sure how I’ll feel when we finally come out of isolation, how long these anxious feelings will linger. I went grocery shopping today, and the air in WalMart was just tense. It was so quiet and empty. People weren’t bumping into friends and having conversations; there weren’t screaming children. Half the people were wearing surgical masks and the other half were abruptly stopping in the middle of aisles to stay 6ft away from another shopper. How long will grocery shopping make me nervous? How long before the thought of my parents going out to the store won’t make my stomach tighten in knots? I’ve always been afraid that I’d lose them early in life, but I’ll be damned if it’s COVID that takes them from me.

All I know about this image is that this is Matt Smith
as the Eleventh Doctor, but I liked the quote.
Unahi tells Tarsa that she can’t go back to who she was before, that she’s not the same person she was. That seems to be a running theme in this class: After Deckard falls in love with Rachel, he can’t go back to retiring Replicants; once K believes he’s Deckard’s son (and half-human), he can’t take back the hope that gives him; society can’t go back to the way it was before the apocalypse in The Road; Katniss can’t stop being the Mockingjay and go back to before the Reaping when she was just a poor girl in District 12; Jane can’t change the fact that she was sent to Summerland; Tarsa can’t go back to just being a Redthorn warrior now that she’s a Wielder.
We can’t go back to a time before COVID-19.


And I guess we could argue about whether any of us ever had a choice in all this—Fate vs. free will and all that jazz—but it doesn’t really matter. It’s kind of like in Doctor Who where there are keyevents that can’t be messed with or the whole universe will be screwed up. Or like the entire plot of Harry Potter and the Cursed Child (2017) where two 11-year-olds just mess with the past and drastically alter the future. We can’t go back and change what happened, so maybe we just have to take each day as it comes and deal with the future when it gets here.

May the odds be ever in our favor,
Katie


Works Cited

Justice, Daniel Heath. The Way of Thorn and Thunder: The Kynship Chronicles. University of New Mexico Press, 2013.

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