Today, the Tide of Justice Started Turning, I Think (Knock on Wood)
Journal days 67 to 75: Life in my little corner of NYC in the age of the Coronavirus, Tuesday, May 26, 2020, to Wednesday, June 3, 2020
In the past seven days, the world changed. The coronavirus was all but forgotten as round-the-clock news coverage of the reaction to the murder of George Floyd replaced round-the-clock coverage of the pandemic.
I started the week with a strong sense of deja vu. Outrage over racial injustice inflamed the country in the 1960s, when I was too young to really understand what was going on, and in 1992, after the beating of Rodney King. It seemed like nothing had really changed in 55 years, and I doubted that this time would be any different.
But as the week went on, I thought I was wrong to be so pessimistic. There were glimmers of hope that were new. Police here and there throughout the country took a knee to show solidarity with the protesters’ cause. Then, today (probably yesterday by the time I post this), prosecutors raised the charges against one ex-officer from third- to second-degree murder and brought charges for the first time against the other three.
The mood of the country — of the world — feels different this time. I think it is ready, now, for a change.
Meanwhile, throughout the week, Trump acted like a cartoon villain, salivating at the idea of shooting rioters and “dominating” the streets — our streets. The current and a former Secretary of Defense put on their hero capes and pushed back using truth and integrity.
I watched this all unfold on TV. I am still scared of the virus and still practicing extreme social distancing, so I am avoiding crowds like the plague (pun sort of intended) and didn’t experience any of the protests first-hand.
NYC is supposed to start reopening on Monday. I think we may be the last in the country to do so. Meanwhile, while history is being made out in the world, my quiet life in shutdown goes on much as before. I take my daily walks to escape to the peace in and around the Gardens. I saw a squirrel enjoying a snack:
I looked at the houses that seemed to have sprung from the pages of a magazine …
… and at the perfect flowers.
Outside the invisible walls of the Gardens, the flowers were less perfect, but people were free to use cute ornaments like this lady bug with a blue face:
Many people in the neighborhood are impatient to reopen. During the last few months, Station Square has often been nearly empty, but this past weekend, people converged there to hang out:
A bar in the Square served drinks outside to people who were socializing, rather than social distancing:
What I’m reading: I’m still reading Sapiens, slowly. I’m able to take my time because I have an indefinite loan from the library — it was one of the books I had already borrowed when the libraries shut down.
What I’m watching: Cuomo’s daily news briefings.
What I’m listening to: Guided meditations from the free Let’s Meditate app.
I have mixed feelings about the reopening. I have finally adjusted to the shutdown and am going to have to learn to unwind my new habits — it’s kind of like going through puberty, getting used to all the changes, and then going through menopause.
I’m apprehensive about possible new outbreaks, either from the reopening and/or from the protests.
I also think that in a weird way, the pandemic may have opened a space for other things to happen. Does that sound too woo-woo? Perhaps this new step — this breakthrough — towards dealing with long-standing racial injustice could only have happened in the middle of another crisis. On a personal level, I’ve gained a new perspective on some old, stubborn problems. I think the shutdown was a catalyst, though I don’t yet understand what happened well enough to be able to say anything coherent about it.
