Stories for Humans

A more accurate title would be “I Was Wrong to Think I Knew It All About Covid”, but that’s a long handle.

I AM AWARE that writing this is guaranteed to cause misunderstanding. Perhaps some will say aHA! She finally admits it (I admit nothing) or Wow, I thought I knew her (this could be accurate) or tut tut, poor lamb has gone woke (ok I do admit something, I’m tired of that term).

Everywhere, people are realizing it’s almost 2025 and they haven’t processed 2020 yet. There are a lot of things we still don’t know that only time, and the twin gifts of facts and experience, will grant us.

There are several reasons why I took a hard stance during Covid. I was very angry at the many injustices I saw every day. I felt I was being wise and discerning about what I posted on social media, and wrestled with the articles I wrote. What were the factors colliding that caused me to be so adamant I was right? I’ve thought about it for a few years now, and these are probably the Top Five.

1. My natural bent
2. Teaching Social Studies
3. Empathy (for some)
4. Location, location, location
5. The echo-chamber

My Natural Bent. I have always been demand avoidant, or resistant to being told what to do. Negatively, we could label it “Rebellious”. This is my personality, my temperament, my nature, and yes – my nurture. I was raised to go against the grain in many aspects of life. In my church, my Christian school, my family – it was understood that “we” were generally the underdogs and culture, government, and probably the world were against us. That is a whole ‘nother article, but suffice to say, I was primed to resist. That can be a good thing. More significantly, my inner voice has always questioned social norms, and I have been hesitant to jump on bandwagons simply because they are hurtling recklessly by.

Being a high school Social Studies teacher. Even though I never signed up to teach Social, it has been a pillar of my teaching career for one reason or another for many years. Teaching students about the causes of the World Wars: the atrocities committed by fascists and communists alike, the unspeakable acts of the Holocaust and Holodomor, the threat and deception of the Cold War. Most importantly, the appalling realities of next door neighbors ratting out their friends for money or fear of reprisal, the betrayal of common decency and the sliding degradation of society. The reality of what one human can do to another human, made in God’s image.

When one’s mind is steeped in history it is shocking to hear and see the same phrases used as coercive propaganda in the past coming up again in the year of our Lord two thousand and something. Many of my Facebook posts and rants and articles at the time were in response to what appeared to be another great betrayal. I knew of people watching their friend’s homes to see if they had an extra guest, or if the young people were driving somewhere in the same vehicle. It all reeked of treachery. In my mind, these situations had definite shades of 1939 Germany, and it seemed that the best way to combat it was to take a strong stand.

Empathy. I have empathy in spades, but since those days I have realized that empathy can have a particular direction. I had a great deal of empathy for students, including my own kids, suffocating behind a mask, or being manipulated into medical treatments. For highly sensitive people, yes, masks are a torture. For someone with anxiety who is struggling to breathe at the best of times, putting a barrier to breathing on their face is a terrible thing. I am so weary of hearing “it’s just a bit of cloth”, because we all know that is only partly true. It depends on the person.

I had a lot of empathy for older people who were left alone and uncared for, dying without a last hug from family or a hand to hold. A daughter not allowed to attend her father’s funeral. So many stories of heartache, and an ocean of empathy and tears. We all were drowning. And like drowning victims, we were pushing each other down so we could catch a breath.

I struggled to have empathy for all the suffering.

I mistook a strong feeling of justice for truth.

Reading and listening wider and deeper, I became aware that my empathy only faced one way. For those terrified to go out of the house, for those with cancer or other diseases, for those who lost loved ones to this raging illness we called covid19; I am sorry for my attitude. Perhaps it is too little too late. Grace for what we were all dealing with may be what is needed as we reflect on that time.

Location. Surrounded by mostly like-minded folk, it was easy to think my way of viewing the situation was the only right way. Under the open prairie sky, in a small town or on a farm, I was privileged to breathe fresh air. I had room. I’m grateful for where I was, where God put me. But there are millions of humans in crowded conditions in cities across the world with nowhere to hide. I did not have the compassion or the brains, frankly, to understand that those people didn’t choose to live there, far from the great outdoors, stifled by close quarters in work or living situations. This was blatant arrogance on my part. Instead of being humble and grateful for where I was, I turned my nose up at the masses of fellow image-bearers who had nowhere else to go. I can’t see Jesus taking the same stance. He wasn’t always flipping tables; He was mostly sitting at them.

Being in an echo chamber (of my own making)

echo-chamber (noun)

1. an enclosed space where sound reverberates.
2. an environment in which a person encounters only beliefs or opinions that coincide with their own, so that their existing views are reinforced and alternative ideas are not considered.

By curating social media feeds, podcasts, videos, news articles, and a feedback loop that reverberated with my already held opinions, I eliminated voices that could bring balance. I remember being frustrated at those “on the other side” who were doing the same thing, and calling them out on it. At the same time, I was reinforcing my strong views with the concrete of similar views until not even a whisper of dissent could reach me. Social media is designed to create an echo chamber, because as we all know, it is a business and your clicks and likes and attention are what is for sale. WE are the product and the consumer.

Eventually, by cracking open that tightly-sealed room and allowing some light and air in, I started to see how other views on covid, on vaccines, on masks, on pandemics in general, may have grains of truth scattered here and there. A one-sided view is always going to miss seeing the truth. Taking a stand is great and laudable, but if you’re standing in a swamp you may need to get to higher ground.

So, was I wrong about everything? No, I don’t think so. I would still stand behind some of it, and other stuff I would let go. It wasn’t as much about the opinions as the way I held them.

Does it matter? Yes, because I’ve changed. I don’t want to be thought of as a dogmatic, bull-headed, arrogant woman who always thinks she is right. Maybe I’m being a bit too hard on myself. Maybe, I’m not being hard enough. There are consequences for pushing your views on others. I wish I had the wisdom to think it through from all sides, not just the window in front of me.

What about you? Is there something you have held too tightly, because you have to believe it or the world will lose its foundations, and like an unraveling thread, the entire creation will fall apart? These are not easy questions. The best we can do is to pursue truth openly and genuinely, and have the humility to walk around, or gain higher ground, so we can see more clearly. In the parable of the Six Blind Men and an Elephant, each blind man felt a different part – the tusks, the skin, the tail, the ears – and so only described the elephant from that perspective. Once we realize there are blind spots, perhaps we can ask what the rest of the elephant feels like, and understand a bit more what a complex animal it is, indeed.