Technological Adaptation & Self Reflection in a Time of Distance

I want to start this by saying: I am not good with computers. The internet intimidates me, my computer's hard drive is constantly overfull, and I tend to drop my entire laptop. I, in fact, spilled oatmeal into my vents on the way to one of Gretchen's classes in the beginning of this semester. I hate digital copies of books, and I would rather die than take online classes. That did not work out well for me.

In a pandemic, my technological preferences do not matter.

I built a website, and it was a formative experience. Now, why would I volunteer to do so? That is a question I asked myself about 200 times in the making of this site. I'm proud of myself and how it turned out. The learning curve and development was probably two times steeper than it would have been for any other semi-functioning 20 something in the 21st century, and while that is embarrassing to admit, I am better for the struggle. Making this became representative of me learning to put aside my own petty frustrations and desires for something that is bigger than me.

Upon the reception of the no-go for my study abroad plans, I began feverishly searching for flights and hotels in London. I didn't care that there was a global crisis going on, because it did not touch me or my entitlement to watch Hamilton live. I didn't care about the potential ramifications of my travel, or about the lives I could destroy merely by touching a different set of door handles than I normally did. I just did not understand.

On December 31st, several cases of pneumonia were reported in the Wuhan Province, it was a few days later that the discovery of a new virus was declared. Novel corona is marked by the crown-like protrusions from the molecule, allowing it to attach to other particles very easily. On January 11th, a 61 year old man in China died. He was a regular at a neighborhood market. The death marked right at the beginning of a national travel holiday in China. It has since spread to 177 countries, killing 257K people. The United States has both the highest number of cases and death statistic.

Culturally, I think my reaction was exactly what it was groomed to be. I am a privileged young person in the land of the free and my right to do anything I want to is deeply engrained in my culture. I responded to a safety precaution with anger. Our national statistics do not reflect a 1st century world with state of the art medical technology and instant information access. We are instead, a mirror of our entitlement, and we are reaping what was sown.

All of my classes are online. All of my communication with my family is through my phone. I learned how to play a video game so I could talk with my brothers more frequently. I canceled a trip to my grandmother's across the country, but I call her more often now than I did before. I am more attached to my technology than I have ever been, and ever really wanted to be. And yet, I am so incredibly thankful and humbled by the access I am lucky enough to have. I am thankful for the time I have been given, and even the time that I have been allowed to waste. All of my life was wrapped up in a fast pace, and now I am able to slow and even stop occasionally.

Among this I have been thinking about King John, and the speech of the Bastard:

This England never did, nor never shall,

Lie at the proud foot of a conqueror,

But when it first did help to wound itself.

Now these her princes are come home again,

Come the three corners of the world in arms,

And we shall shock them. Nought shall make us rue,

If England to itself do rest but true. 

(Bastard, Act 5 Scene 7)

The Bastard closes out King John with a powerful speech of solidarity and joy in the strength of England. As a contemporary audience member, it almost feels like there is a warning laced within the stanza. I am existing in a time of sickness and panic, and it is hard to know which is more dangerous. The Bastard's language appeals to a deep part of human knowledge, that we are stronger together, better united. He says that his home could never fall unless "it first did help to wound itself." That feels like a cruel irony in the face of a pandemic. People are sick and/or dying. The very best thing I can do to help my community right now is to stay as far away from them as I possibly can, and that is a complex emotional quagmire. I expected to feel terrified, confused, and isolated. I expected frustration at my situation, but not the shame that came with it. I should want to be alone, because that is what is right and best, but who can want to isolate. Human beings are undeniably social creatures. We thrive in community, and seek out companionship. We want to "come home again" but there is a real possibility that home is changed or changing even now.

I did not expect to be so grateful for this laptop.

My home and community are embedded in my laptop. I am the lonely forth corner of the world, and yet my social landscape is expanded across the entire planet. Solidarity is rooted in isolation, and simultaneously I am able to connect; in a technological, emotional, and intellectual way with peers across the world. My sense of togetherness is completely shifted now. I am anxious when other people walk too close to me. I feel as though I may "wound [myself]" by getting too close to anyone or thing, but that is so against my nature that I feel stunted.

The language of the Bastard has an undercurrent of foreshadowing, that perhaps the division England claims to be free of is lurking at every corner. The king was willing to divide the country in order to secure his claim on what would be left. The chopping apart of the geography was like cutting off a limb. The power struggle of these men overtook any concern about the autonomous body the country, as if the head and arms were not communicating. Only when all was united, and communication restored, there could be "rest." It is interesting that now that our path towards healing and health is within a communication across distance.

I feel as though I am cut off and more connected than I have ever been. I feel like I am being divided. My desire to see the people I love is at war with my determination to keep them safe. I hate an enemy that I cannot see. An enemy so microscopic that there is no chance of facing it. So instead, I am incredibly alone but also, incredibly connected. My wifi signal becomes a beacon of hope, and I keep my doors closed.