Learning From Our Queer Ancestors In Times Of Panic
Please be sure to follow current CDC guidelines to help prevent the spread of COVID-19.
I’m sitting on my couch after a week of mandated telework for my day job. My husband is next to me on his phone, similarly in a mandatory telework capacity. We had a bit of a scare last weekend when we he received word he would not be able to go to work for the rest of March but there was still no word if hourly workers would be paid. Luckily, come Monday, senior leadership in his organization approved pay and telework for part-time and hourly workers. We are very aware of how blessed we are in that regard as many folks across the country are being thrown into financial chaos as the the coronavirus outbreak continues.
I grew up in South Florida and am accustomed to emergency preparedness during hurricane season. Additionally, my father was a paramedic/firefighter who also worked for FEMA and was deployed for a number of disasters. Our home is well-stocked to maintain me, my husband, and our dog for at least a month of severe social distancing restrictions, but over the last week has seen drastic swings in my anxiety. What if this lasts longer than most of us anticipate? What if one of us gets sick?
The last few days were unusually warm for March so, since I was home already, I decided to get started on preparing my garden for new planting. In the course of doing this I found my attention drifting to my Queer Ancestor shrine. I spent some time clearing up the leaves around it and picking twigs out of the basin and in doing so I could feel my body physically relaxing - knots I didn’t know I had were unwinding, my shoulders relaxed, my jaw unclenched. My previous work with the Queer Ancestors has almost exclusively centered on LGBTQ+ activism and history but I sat with this experience and thought about how this practice could be expanded to help in a time like this.
The most direct parallel to the experiences and lessons of our Queer Ancestors I could see in navigating an unfolding public health crisis was the HIV/AIDS epidemic that swept through our community in the last decades of the 20th century, and which continues to be a major issue. There was an overwhelming sense of fear, isolation, and abandonment for LGBTQ+ folks living during the AIDS epidemic as the majority of Americans and those in power did not take the outbreak seriously since it was seen as only impacting “fags”. In the late 1980’s the anger and resiliency of our community was channeled into the birth of organizations such as ACT UP. This epidemic also showed the depths of human kindness and empathy, such as Ruth Coker Burks aka the “Cemetery Angel”. Ruth cared for AIDS victims whose families had abandoned them, going so far as to bury them in her own family cemetery after their families had abandoned them.
The lesson I’m learning from the Queer Ancestors is one of community. It is totally fine to be scared right now, things are scary. It is totally fine to worry about our loved ones right now, but we have the capacity weather this storm. But the strength we need to get through whatever is to come is not something we can sustain on our own, it will require reaching out to those around us and being vulnerable enough to ask for help. If you see someone in your community who needs help - buying groceries, or just someone to talk to - be the person to step into that space. Social distancing measures are likely to highlight how important it is for us to sit in community with friends and family, and how much we’ve taken this for granted.
We may also be called to use this time to demand change. This outbreak is highlighting the many ways our current systems and ways of living are broken. Folks who have advocated for vulnerable populations have always been angry about the inequality that plagues our country but we’re likely to see that anger spread. It is important we channel that anger productively to advocate for change and not turn against one another.
Take care of yourself during this challenging time. Check in on your friends and loved ones. Support local business if you are still able. The world that awaits us on the other side of this will not be the one we left, but it may be one where we more fully realize how interconnected we are and better value the importance of community and kindness.
