Under the baobab: Seeking out new ways to survive and thrive during a global pandemic

I am writing this after returning from dropping off Jo, my beloved wife of over 50 years, at The State Theatre. She is a professor. Two of her larger classes are held there. Only a couple of dozen students are usually present. Most of her 80 enrolled students participate online. I would prefer that my elder wife is not exposed to possible contamination from students whose judgment in dealing with this pandemic covers a wide range. I would prefer that she remained in our shelter-in-place home pod. Jo disagrees. She wants the students to have the best that she can give. She starts with love. Then she nurtures them. She spends hours each day trying to find ways to provide a creative environment for students to learn.

I do what the families, colleagues and friends of all teachers, doctors, nurses, medical assistants, store clerks, senior center workers and all of those other heroes who are on the front lines do in this crisis. I try to find ways to be supportive, to lift her spirits. I cook “southside gourmet meals.” I rub her feet. I hug her as often as I can. I pray.

We are in a new world. We have yet to determine whether it is brave or not. We seek ways to not only survive but to thrive. Like Jo, we must find new and creative ways of teaching, providing and nurturing. My wife is at risk every time she goes to work. As a veteran I understand that even when it seems quiet on the battlefield you are always in danger of an artillery barrage. We can only hope that our local leadership, those responsible for the well-being of our students, faculty, staff and community members understand it.

I believe President Barron and the administration get it. Which is why they have cautiously, reopened the university under restrictive conditions, carefully observing numbers while keeping a hand on the button to switch to 100% online teaching. I know Jesse Barlow and the Borough Council get it. Which is why they passed a mandatory mask ordinance. I know, Rick Lombardo, head of the School of Theatre, gets it. Which is why, in consideration of the well-being of students and faculty, all rehearsal and performances will be conducted online. Will it cost more resources and energy to do it this way? Yes. Will it promote a healthier environment and save lives of students, faculty, and staff? Yes. They and many others who crew the masts are seeking ways to keep the ship of state afloat in this pandemic storm. God bless them for their efforts.

I just read that the Big Ten Conference has decided to have a football season which will begin later this fall. We love Penn State football. We have been season ticket holders for over 20 years. Like a quarter of a million others, we bleed blue. Many of my friends and colleagues see this as a return to “normal,” a clearing in the forest, coming to home port after a difficult sea voyage. One friend even told me that Penn State football represents the best in us as people. Not really.

Folks, we are more than a football team. We are Penn State, surely. But we are more than that. We are more than a university or a town or a state. We are more than a particular skin color or religion or belief system or language or culture. We are certainly more than a flag. We are citizens and residents of the USA. Yet, we are even more.

We are the people. A people who have chosen to live in community with each other. Some of us were born into that community; others migrated to become part of it. We are multitudes of people from different races, genders, capabilities, religions, belief systems, and origins who have recognized each other’s common humanity and committed to find common ground to help us get through this test, this tragedy, this joy called life. This past year, these tests have been more difficult than at any other time during my almost four score years- Pandemics, a collapsed economy, massive social justice protests, hibernation and isolation, fires, floods, murder and mayhem, wars and rumors of wars. Worldwide, 30 million people have contracted coronavirus. Nearly a million have died from it. Authorities estimate that in the 25 weeks of this pandemic 25 years of progress in everything from world health to the economy has been wiped out. We as a people, as a community, have been knocked on our collective behind.

Brothers and sisters, we must ask ourselves, how do we get back on our feet? I wish I knew. I suspect it is going to take more than football. I actually miss hugs more than football. A vaccine will help. Having a good job, eliminating racial and other discrimination, yes. At some point, loosing the masks and being able to see each smile will dissipate the stored fears. I believe if we recollect why we chose to live in community is an essential step. To this end, I heed my teacher wife. You start with love, find a way to nurture. ... An occasional foot massage can’t hurt.