Essential
First lines of pandemic journal entries. Images/Carolyn Brayko.
By Carolyn Brayko
For me, March 18, 2021, will mark one year of working from home. For 12 months, the majority of my work has been conducted on various perches established in my house. As a social scientist by training and a curious person by nature, I saw the coronavirus pandemic as a unique part of a person’s experience and did not want to miss the opportunity to document this chapter of my life. I started writing on March 18, 2020, and I challenged myself to keep a regular diary at least until the pandemic was over.
At the time, I imagined the pandemic would last long enough to finish a partially completed journal that was sitting half blank. I was counting on needing some memory checks a generation later, and I was feeling a little guilty of letting a good notebook go to waste. Little did I know that I would now be on my third notebook, with a begrudging habit borne more out of stubbornness and curiosity than a genuine love of journaling.
What follows below is a summary of my reflections from a year of journal entries. In profound chaos and intimately quiet moments, my near-daily musings prompted me to seek lessons to learn. So much of my daily life has been stripped away, I’ve begun to see this past year as a time to reflect on what is essential.
Work
On March 18, 2020, the question “What is essential?” first came up for me in the workplace, which happens to be the University of Nevada, Reno School of Medicine (UNR Med). When shifting to “alternative operations” at the University, we needed to determine who would continue working on-site and who would work remotely. “Essential workers” consisted of people who not only had work that could only be done on-site, but whose work was also necessary for the sustainability of our institution or the good of our community.
When your colleagues work in primary care clinics, run the Nevada State Public Health Lab, and conduct basic science research to understand SARS-CoV-2, it puts a whole new perspective on essential work. As proud as I am of my work and its importance, there was no question about my non-essentiality. From day one, the challenges the UNR Med physicians, medical staff, and scientists were facing, made clear to me the magnitude of the pandemic’s effect on our community. This was bigger than myself and my own inconveniences.
The question “What is essential?” forced me to take an honest look at my responsibilities and put an indefinite pause on the vast majority of my work. What became essential for me was to be useful. I was able to pivot much of my work time to creating resources and trainings for our teams while we grew accustomed to working during a pandemic. Throughout the year, I’ve documented my struggle to maintain some work-life balance. I couldn’t be helpful to my colleagues if I couldn’t help myself. That’s a lesson I have to re-learn every few months.
Justice
On May 25, 2020, the world witnessed the murder of George Floyd and the resulting outrage across the country. I still remember sitting in my bedroom looking up local news stories from all the cities where I have family to learn about what riots were occurring. Looking back, I’m embarrassed about how long it took me to start educating myself about structural racism. I’m amazed at myself who’s conducted research on bias and participated in many trainings about discrimination and bias could be so naïve to our nation’s history of oppression and ignorant to our nation’s racist present.
As much as the pandemic may endure as a historic event for the world, May 2020 will be a life changing moment for me. It’s a moment when I better understood the problem. I understood that I’m part of the problem. And most significantly, I understood that I could be a part of the solution. Stuck at home, watching the events unfold and the mounting evidence of police violence and killings of innocent people of color, the safe harbor of my white privilege was besieged with facts, patterns, and testimony to the racial hostility that has existed since our nation’s birth. This year, justice transformed from abstract to tangible. I learned if I cared about justice, I could not continue to passively live my life in ignorance.
What became essential for me to live a more just life was to educate myself through reading, marching, listening, and reflecting. As I learn, I am building a new vocabulary and new confidence to shift away from my identity as a closeted ally, which is almost as injurious as active oppression. I confess this to you, not because I want praise for my recent advocacy but more as penance and accountability for my future actions. If in work, it is essential to me to be useful for others, as a citizen it is essential that I do what I can to advocate for equity.
Love
On March 23, 2020, my supervisor and friend succumbed to brain cancer after many years of courageous fighting. On June 21, 2020, my husband and I celebrated our first wedding anniversary. On October 22, 2020, my grandma (not really my grandma but called and treated her as such as long as I can remember) passed away in my hometown of Great Falls, Montana. On October 31, 2020, I found out I was pregnant. None of these events transpired as they would have any other year. There were no in-person gatherings for friends and near-family. There was no group hugging, no flying, no pot lucking. Celebrations were quiet and personal. Mourning took place on group text threads, video calls, or in the solitary moments when we remembered their smiles. Regardless of what the pandemic has done to our ways of living, it has not prevented us from our ways of loving.
For me, the love I have in my life has been essential to surviving a year of sheltering in place. Nothing but the force of love would make it feasible for me to spend 365 uninterrupted days of time with a single person in a small house. In fact, I find myself loving my husband even more throughout the pandemic. Rarely does one get the chance to experience life “distilled” where one person will see me at my best and worst, will console me when the world is too heavy, and will go to the grocery store when I need yogurt. For this love, I am profoundly grateful. For me, love is essential, and this year has taught me to never take love for granted.
Then there is the love I am beginning to know. Our “peanut” is really the only thing we’ve been able to plan for since March 2020. Personally, I had never considered having a child as being essential, but pregnancy is teaching me that love is essential to deciding to have a child. My love for this guest I haven’t even met means changing my lifestyle, reimagining our home, and clarifying yet again what is essential in my life going forward. Just as my thirst for justice became tangible, this year I’m learning a new appetite for love in a way I’d never imagined.
Truth
On November 3, 2020, the United States witnessed another historic event with a contentious, polarizing presidential election. On January 6, 2021 Congress certified the election by the American people, but not without the intervention of extreme-right hostiles attacking our Capitol. Again I found myself, sitting at home, powerless and filled with mixed emotions. The democratic process of electing a new president had prevailed. Our nation’s tradition in the peaceful transition of power eventually came to pass on January 20, 2021. All this took place despite the violent acts of people who believe a lie.
Witnessing millions of people embrace a series of lies that have endangered the health and well-being of its citizens and the health and well-being of its government has clarified for me in a very concrete way the essential nature of truth. Above all things, there must be truth that is searchable, verifiable, and agreed upon. I never thought I’d see the need to make a case for “truth,” it seemed like a thought experiment left to my favorite dystopian novels. Just as other essential aspects of life should not be assumed, truth is only possible when it is intentionally sought and sustained by caring people.
This year provided many lessons and there are many more likely to come. For me, a global pandemic gave me the time to revisit what is essential in my life. Public health guidance and government restrictions have restricted access to a lot of the activities that used to fill my day. Somehow, my journals overflow with new adventures, new insights, new gratitude.
This year also brought profound sadness and anger. I could focus on the millions of people who have lost their lives in a year, the people I have personally lost, the experiences I have lost, the sleep I have lost. Today, for now, I want to see what has been gained for a year’s worth of loss. I do not believe this rampant novel virus came to us “for a reason” nor could I see such an international crisis as ever being “worth it” for the sake of learning a few lessons. Nevertheless, let us come away from destruction a little stronger than when it began guided by the light of what is most essential to who we are.
First lines of pandemic journal entries. Images/Carolyn Brayko.
Photo/Carolyn Brayko.
Carolyn Brayko, Ph.D. is a Nevada transplant of 10 years, originally from Montana. She met her husband and dog in Reno and is proud to serve as Director of Organizational Development & Strategic Planning at the University of Nevada, Reno School of Medicine.
Thank you for visiting Humanities Heart to Heart, a program of Nevada Humanities. Any views or opinions represented in posts or content on the Humanities Heart to Heart webpage are personal and belong solely to the author or contributor and do not represent those of Nevada Humanities, its staff, or any donor, partner, or affiliated organization, unless explicitly stated. At no time are these posts understood to promote particular political, religious, or ideological points of view; advocate for a particular program or social or political action; or support specific public policies or legislation on behalf of Nevada Humanities, its staff, any donor, partner, or affiliated organization. Omissions, errors, or mistakes are entirely unintentional. Nevada Humanities makes no representations as to the accuracy or completeness of any information on these posts or found by following any link embedded in these posts. Nevada Humanities reserves the right to alter, update, or remove content on the Humanities Heart to Heart webpage at any time.