Diary of a Professional Social Distancer
Hannah Pym | She/Her
2020: more painful than a razor scooter to the ankles. Navigating life amidst a global pandemic has not been easy. This is especially true for chronically ill, disabled, elderly, and/or immunocompromised individuals. I tick three out of four of those boxes. Here’s how COVID-19 has impacted life from the perspective of a spoonie* student.
Self-isolation and excessive hygiene operations are not familiar practices to many people. However, for those of us who fall under the vulnerable category, these are likely to be standard practices we implement without much consideration.
Taking extra precautions around flu season, reducing our surface contacts on public transport, wearing masks, and staying indoors when our immunity is low; these actions are second nature to many chronically ill people. We are not strangers to long, lonely stints indoors. Therefore, for once, we had the advantage over able-bodied folks going into lockdown.
Now don’t get me wrong, this is not to say lockdown was a breeze—we are human after all. Talking with my fellow vulnerable category peers, it was as if there was a storm looming above. The clouds were composed of idiots not taking restrictions seriously, people feeling butt hurt about missing out on fun, and individuals who felt they were above the law.
This was hard for us to process. We go through our lives making accommodations not only to keep ourselves safe, but also bending over backwards to prevent people from feeling awkward on our behalf. Like regularly ‘outing’ ourselves to boomers in the supermarket who believe it is perfectly acceptable to demand our entire medical history when we use our walking sticks. Just standard procedure at this point.
When Level 4 was in full swing, the students were told physical teaching would stop and content would move online to keep everyone safe. What a relief! Right? Only it was hard to celebrate when there was a raging feeling of frustration and disbelief burning inside.
You see, chronic illnesses and disabilities are not often straightforward. In my case, I can walk around campus with little pain some days, and the next day I could be bedridden lacking the strength to sit up unassisted. This makes it extremely difficult to take the car ride, train, and bus each time I need to attend a class.
In hopes of preserving the little energy I have, I (among numerous others) reached out to the University administrators to discuss the possibility of further online content. We talked about how the mere uploading of a lecture recording could make all the difference. However, we were always met with the same response, in fewer or more words “it is simply not worth offering online content to accommodate one student”. Oof.
So, I was somewhat shocked to discover the entire University had adapted to and implemented online content in a matter of days, when this was such a monumental task. Miraculous right? Online lecture recordings, supplementary content, and flexible learning hours are now attainable. Why? Because it affects the masses. Seemingly healthy people are now experiencing what disabled and chronically ill people go through on a daily basis, only without the major inequity and ostracising.
While these measures were put in place to prevent viral spreading, unite the nation, and save lives, I can’t help but wish these kinds of accommodations were made in regular climates, not just in times of crisis. It would be so relieving to have someone meet us halfway without making us feel like burdens or as if our request is a major inconvenience.
This pandemic has highlighted the systemic ableism in society and proven that employers, schools, and other positions of authority can make accommodations; they just don’t want to.
When (or if) society returns to normal, I hope you remember how you felt during lockdown. When you resume your routine, enjoy outings again, get to see those you have missed so dearly; remember that not everyone is so lucky.
We will fall through the cracks of unaccommodating education, hide ourselves away as people’s conscientiousness depletes, and resume the battle of accessing the basic assistance that has been taken from us once again.
A typical piece of writing has a conclusion which suggests something has been resolved. But the fight continues thus a conclusion doesn’t feel appropriate. So I remain one of the many disabled, chronically ill, immunocompromised students who will chew your ear off next time you mention how much you despised attending an afternoon Zoom meeting from the comfort of your home.
*Spoonie: An individual with chronic illness/disability, relating to ‘Christine Miserandino's Spoon Theory’.