In some ways, it is undoubtedly good for us. Science is already showing us that it's good for the planet.
But in our peaceful bubbles, it's important to remember that the world hasn't actually stopped. Of course, we all know that healthcare workers, police, EMTs, firefighters and others who are fighting to keep us safe and healthy during this crisis are working harder than ever, under more difficult, challenging, and discouraging conditions. Most of us are even aware that grocery store employees and others who must deal with the public to get necessary supplies to us are hustling like crazy (and for very little money in most cases). Many of them are also frightened. They've started to die. Take a moment to really let that sink in: grocery store cashier is now a job you risk your life to perform.
But, that's not what I came here to talk about.
I think everyone has the front-line workers on their radar.
Here's what I'm afraid is slipping through the cracks: more than 48,000,000 U.S. workers have been designated essential. Fewer than half of those are healthcare workers and first responders. The others are food manufacturers, warehouse workers, delivery drivers, postal workers, social workers, utility repairmen and others who have probably never crossed your mind.
That's nearly 15% of the U.S. population still out there going to work as usual, laboring alongside the same people they did before, balancing work with housecleaning and laundry and the increasingly-difficult process of obtaining groceries. And that's without considering the many workers in states that haven't limited commerce to essential services.
Of course, the U.S. population includes many who weren't working before the shutdowns. Those 48,000,000 workers represent nearly 20% of the adult population, and more than 30% of the pre-pandemic workforce.
That's nearly 1/3 of Americans who, at best, are going about their day-to-day responsibilities as usual. They get up to alarm clocks in the morning, commute to their jobs, work, worry about having time to finish whatever they need to get done at home...business as usual. Except, their health is at risk in a way it wasn't before. Except, it's harder for them to get groceries and other essentials in the limited time they have available. Except, they can't unwind by having a drink with a friend at the end of a 10-hour shift or take care of themselves by hitting the gym.
There's been a lot of talk about the psychological effects of this pandemic--the isolation, the fears, the realization that our government is either ill-equipped to save us or uninterested in doing so. Those concerns are real.
There's also been a lot of talk about the benefits--the slowing down, the getting back in touch with ourselves and silence, the shifting of priorities. Those are real, too.
But, all of that discussion, pro and con, seems to revolve around those of us whose world has changed dramatically over the past 60 days. What impact will this time have on those who didn't have the luxury of sheltering at home? How are their world views changing, as they experience this pandemic very differently from the rest of us, and how will we reintegrate when life is slated to return to "normal" and these two slices of society have developed very different ideas about what that means?
