Month: April 2020

Winds of Unrest

I hate this relentless wind. When did it become so consistently gusty here in Albany, New York? I thought Chicago was the windy city. Is this a global warming byproduct? Is it my imagination that it is windier? Am I overreacting because the coronavirus quarantine has made me crazy?

I find it unsettling – I hear the howling. I see branches waving wildly. Yesterday, April 21st, after the rain/sleet/snow showers passed, the sun came out, but the wind remained. I needed to get out of the house, so I took a walk. I kept my eyes open for flying debris. I was worried that a garbage can, it was collection day in our neighborhood, would take flight. I wanted to make sure I was ready to take evasive action! I walked quickly, scanning both sides of the street. Garbage cans slid around, a couple tipped over, but none became airborne. I did my walk and made it home without incident. Phew.

I do remember another time I was disturbed by the wind and we weren’t even under a quarantine, so maybe I just have a thing about unpredictable weather. We were vacationing on the Outer Banks of North Carolina. We had a tradition of going there during the April school break. We met another family and shared a house for ten consecutive years. One year we splurged and rented a beachfront home. It was huge with three floors. The bottom floor had a play room and a bedroom, the middle floor had a master suite and two more bedrooms, and the top floor had the kitchen, a great room with a fireplace, and another master. It was a fabulous home. Unfortunately, it was a stormy week with heavy gray skies and driving rain. The wind screamed through the chimney. I couldn’t relax, especially at night. I was thankful we were in the suite on the second floor – at least the wind’s moaning wasn’t as loud there. In the years that followed we continued to vacation on the Outer Banks, but in a house a few blocks off the beach.

Today, April 22nd, the wind continues to howl. We have several dead trees on our property. Last fall I arranged to have them removed but the person who was going to do it injured his ankle. I didn’t find a replacement, so we postponed the project. None of the trees are that close to the house, but they could damage the pool and fence. Unrelated to the recent weather, I started contacting contractors to do the work – I think it is something that can be done despite the nonessential business shutdown. I met with two contractors today in the middle of the windstorm (we maintained appropriate social distancing). We walked to the area where the work needs to be done, all the while I was listening for the sound of wood cracking, anticipating that a tree could fall. Apparently both contractors shared my concern; they looked around quickly and suggested we go around to the front to talk, there are no trees there. I readily agreed. They didn’t want to be in the shadow of those dead trees any more than I did. I’m saddened by the loss of life, even if it is tree-life. It’s painful but necessary to cut them down. Until they are removed, I have to hope that the wind doesn’t do damage.

There are other healthy trees on our property. We have a giant white pine inside the fence in our backyard (see photos below). It is very much alive. The trunk splits into three parts and each part has many branches. When I look up it seems like it touches the sky. In summers past I have spent time floating in our pool admiring its green, soft needles brushing the bright blue sky. That is the tree that, if it came down in the wrong direction, could do major harm to our house. I love that tree. In this crazy wind, I fear it. I don’t think it is at risk of falling, it looks vibrant and healthy, but you never know. Right now, I have plenty of time to imagine the worst. I watch it suspiciously, looking for hints it might betray us.

Views of our giant white pine on this gray rainy day (4/27)

That appears to be my mood right now; unsettled, uneasy as the air outside. Everything is moving, clouds scudding, spring flowers bowing to the stiff breeze, bushes swaying, the wind chime ringing insistently. Everything is shifting, outside of my control, while I sit at my kitchen counter waiting for calm.

P.S. After several days of wind, it finally subsided. With it my sense of unease lessened too. I was able to get out and take my walks without worrying about flying objects. Even though the post above doesn’t reflect my mood today, I thought it was worth sharing as a glimpse of the ups and downs of this quarantine period. Anxiety, when it comes, seems to be heightened. From what I read and see on social media, I may not be alone in experiencing that. As the coronavirus crisis subsides, hopefully our collective anxiety will too.

What Have I Learned?

NOTE: I want to give a shout out to my brother Steven. Today is his birthday. Happy birthday, Steve! I know your options for celebrating are limited given the pandemic, but I hope it helps to know that we Baksts are celebrating you! Enjoy your day. Now back to the blog….

I was scrolling through my Twitter feed, as I frequently do during this time of quarantine. I came across an interesting tweet. Nate Silver, author of The Signal and the Noise and founder of FiveThirtyEight, asked the following poll question: “Okay, which of the following is closest to the mark for you?”

  1. I thought I was an extrovert, and social distancing has made me realize I’m even more of an extrovert than I thought.
  2. I thought I was an extrovert, but social distancing has made me realize I’m more of an introvert than I thought.
  3. I thought I was an introvert, and social distancing has made me realize I’m more of an introvert than I thought.
  4. I thought I was an introvert, but social distancing has made me realize I’m more of an extrovert than I thought.*

*Results are below

One thing about this strange time we are in, many of us have an opportunity to reflect on this kind of question. This one resonated with me. I wasn’t sure how I would answer it.

I considered whether I am an introvert or extrovert. I recall taking a survey once where I was characterized as an introvert, but with some extrovert qualities. I think that sounds about right. I am certainly introspective, as my blog entries probably make clear. But that isn’t the whole story.

If a person observed me at a meeting at work, they might think I am an extrovert. I was never shy about expressing my opinions to management– sometimes to my detriment. On the other hand, depending on the occasion, if you watched me at a social event, you might see someone struggling to connect. And, before that social event, you would see someone dreading the prospect of making small talk and having to be ‘on.’ But, you wouldn’t actually see that, would you? You wouldn’t see what was going on internally. You might look over and see me laughing and think “she looks pretty comfortable.” I’ve been told I have a hearty laugh and that may lead you to conclude I’m an extrovert. That isn’t how it feels to me, though.

When I was in graduate school, I became close friends with a fellow student, Sally. She once commented, “You’re so bubbly,” or something to that effect. I had never thought that was an adjective that would be used to describe me. Sally was quite reserved. When we finished school, coincidentally we took jobs in the same office. We would attend meetings and I marveled at how she kept a perfect poker face. I could not tell what she was thinking. I’m not sure if it was a cultural thing, her personality, a concerted effort on her part or a combination of all of that, but she did not readily show her emotions. I did, I can’t help myself. I’m either nodding along with what the speaker is saying or shaking my head in disagreement. From Sally’s vantage point, I may have been bubbly, but that also may have been relative to her own nature.

Some of what I struggle with in answering Nate Silver’s poll question is the difference between how others might perceive me versus how I see myself.

Another part of the problem in answering the question is defining what it means to be an introvert or extrovert. One way to think of it is to ask whether you prefer solitary pursuits or group activities. I would fall into neither category – my preference would be to do something with one or two people – does that constitute a group? I enjoy alone time, but I need social connection, too. I prefer that to happen in small gatherings, though.

Another way to look at the definition is whether you are a person energized by spending time with people or if that leaves you exhausted. I definitely need solitude to recharge. Again, I can enjoy a party, but only up to a point. Then I want to gracefully exit and be quiet. I am rarely the last to leave, even if it is my own house! I might escape for a walk or go up to my room for a few moments of peace. I am definitely not energized when it is over.

When this shut down first started, I admit feeling relieved. In the beginning it wasn’t dramatically different from my regular life. Since retiring five years ago, I spend a lot of my time reading and writing. One thing I have often struggled with is competing impulses. On the one hand, I like my solitude; on the other, I have a fear of missing out. I wanted to be part of the social whirl, to be part of the in crowd. But, then I didn’t, it exhausted me. When this enforced social distancing began, I didn’t have to worry about that anymore. I wonder when this is over if I will go back to fighting with myself, or if I will have reached peace.

So, what has this quarantine experience taught me about whether I am introvert or extrovert? My answer is not found in the choices Nate Silver offered. Instead, I would submit the following: I thought I was an introvert, and I am. But, I need social connection more than I was willing to admit and I need changes of scenery. For the time being I am satisfied by the social connection provided by technology. Visiting via FaceTime or another of the video platforms works pretty well for me. It doesn’t, however, fulfill my desire to hug my children and grandchild.

My craving for a change in scenery has been a revelation. This may not be exactly relevant to where on the continuum of introversion to extroversion I fall, but it is an understanding I’ve reached since spending so much time in my house. I love my house, but enough already! Even more than seeing people, I crave a day trip to somewhere, anywhere! And not just a ride in the car, or a drive to take a hike along a waterway. I want to go to another town, try a new restaurant, go to a museum or movie, wander the streets of New York or Boston. I took those possibilities for granted before – the freedom to get in the car or hop on Amtrak to go somewhere. The only thing I miss more than that freedom is hanging out with my children and granddaughter.

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The view out my kitchen window. I know I am lucky to have something so lovely, but I still need a change of scenery!

*Here are the results of Nate Silver’s unscientific poll:

Extrovert, extrovert    10.3%

Extrovert, introvert     12.7%

Introvert, introvert     51.1%

Introvert, extrovert     26%

Just under 40% have learned something different about themselves. It is interesting that such a large percentage said they were introverts. This is not a randomized sample. It may reflect that people who follow Silver’s twitter feed are more likely to be nerds (guilty! Sort of). But the results also suggest that a number of folks (26%) are figuring out that they have more of a need to be with people than they previously thought. Maybe that’s a good thing.

How would you have answered the poll question?  Have you had any surprises about yourself as a result of spending so much time home?

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I miss New York City! Hoping we can go back soon!

I Am Angry

I am angry. I need to say it.

As I think about it, I am angry on a number of levels. First and foremost, I am furious at our president. Though I recognize that he is not responsible for the virus, he is exactly the wrong person to be leading us through this crisis. Let me count the ways:

  1. He is impulsive. Not a good quality in a crisis.
  2. He is unwilling to follow the experts or the data or the science. When asked what metrics he would use to decide when to open the economy, he pointed to his temple – his head!!! “It’s all in here,” he said. I can only shake mine.
  3. He is vindictive. He doles out aid and supplies to his political allies, or those who pay him compliments. I give Andrew Cuomo credit for being able to play that game – at least to some extent. It must be infuriating to deal with someone so juvenile and thin-skinned.
  4. He is a terrible role-model in every sense – from not following the CDC’s advice in his behavior and actions, to his shameless lying. I listened to his first major press conference where he announced that there would be a nationwide website we could consult to find out where to get tested; and that testing sites would be set up in parking lots of Wal-Mart and Target. All of that sounded good – and presidential. I was pleasantly surprised. Sadly, it was all lies; or if not outright lies, he was willfully misleading us.
  5. He never acknowledges when he is wrong or apologizes for lying or saying hurtful, insulting things.

I could go on and on, but I won’t.

I am angry that 43% of Americans still seem to approve of his performance.

I am angry that he will likely not be held accountable for any of this. His unwillingness to acknowledge the potential for pandemic months ago cost thousands of lives. I know others share responsibility, but he is the president! And, despite all of this, he could still be re-elected!

I am angry that he and his administration have rewritten the role of the federal government  – and the Republican party has stood by and watched (or tacitly supported it). The federal government is there to take on problems that extend beyond states’ borders. We can argue about when that comes into play, and we can differ on any number of policies. But, how is this virus different than an attack from a foreign enemy? A pandemic is a threat to our national security and safety. How can it be left to individual states to manage? The virus does not recognize state borders. It also pits states against each other. What is the point of being the United States of America if this is how we are going to operate?

I am angry because I feel powerless. I know the strategies one should employ when feeling powerless, but they are inadequate right now. And, given that I am hunkered down in my house, there are limitations.

I am angry because I have few useful skills for this situation. I don’t know how to sew so I can’t make masks. I don’t have the patience for sewing, knitting or crocheting, and I don’t own a sewing machine, so watching YouTube videos isn’t an option. I don’t have a factory that I can repurpose. I have no health care training. I wonder: what can I contribute? I am trying to be a good citizen by staying home.

I am also angry at myself because I realize that I have been selfish. Though I have been in mourning since Trump was elected, I have largely gone about my life, allowing the injustices that have been perpetrated (the separation of families at the border, the widening gap between the haves and have-nots, the treatment of immigrants generally, the increased threats to our environment, etc.) to pile up, but then roll off me. Maybe it was a matter of self-preservation, letting things go that you feel you can’t change. But now, with CoVid-19, even I can’t escape it. My privilege doesn’t protect me. It makes life easier – my quarantine is way more comfortable than most – but my life has been upended and I worry about family and friends being safe, healthy and able to withstand the economic impact of this calamity. Only now is my anger stirred to this level. How selfish is that?

It’s a lot of anger to be carrying around. I know the drill – do the things I can. Do good deeds for others. Focus on constructive actions – take care of my health, eat well, exercise. Stay connected to the people I love. Look to the helpers for inspiration, and there are many. There are many people stepping up to do good things (I love John Krasinski’s videos), courageous things (going to work at the risk of getting ill is courageous). All of that helps to quell the anger, until it boils up again and I need to vent. Thanks for listening.

Revelations

One of the things I have done during this period of quarantine is watch a variety of videos: music, movies, t.v. shows. Some are homemade that pop up on my Facebook or Twitter feed; others have been made available by professional artists or companies. All of them provide a welcome diversion. I received a link to one such performance from my daughter Leah. She knows I am a fan of the Alvin Ailey Dance troupe and they released Revelations, which was filmed at Lincoln Center in 2015, so that it could be viewed for free. [Note: The link she provided is no longer active. Apparently, Alvin Ailey has created a free All Access streaming service that rotates programming. Here is the link. Hopefully they will offer Revelations again. Their other works are well worth viewing, too.]

Watching the piece brought back memories. The first time I saw Alvin Ailey was in the early 1970s. It was a powerful experience

Aunt Clair, who I wrote about here, invited me to join her to see Alvin Ailey at City Center. I was excited. I was a fan of dance as an art form. During my teen years Mom and her sister (Aunt Simma) had a subscription to the New York City Ballet (NYCB). They took their daughters, me and my cousin Laurie, to three or four performances each season. The four of us would meet for lunch beforehand and then go watch the ballet. I loved those afternoons. Although I could not imagine myself as a dancer, I was moved by the athleticism, grace and strength displayed. Sometimes the music was even more beautiful than the choreography. Taken together, the music and dance were breathtaking. Some might find classical ballet boring, but it was rare for me to think the piece dragged. Most often I was captivated by the expressiveness of the human form – sometimes it told a story, but sometimes it was just raw emotion.

Alvin Ailey would be a different experience on several levels. We were going at night; not to a matinee. That meant being into the city after dark, which brought a different energy. Plus, it was the holiday season so Manhattan would be more lit up than usual. I didn’t know what to expect from the dance itself, but I did know that Alvin Ailey was not the classic approach offered by NYCB.

It also meant getting dressed for an evening at the theater and going into ‘the city.’ Though I lived in Brooklyn, which is in fact part of New York City, we didn’t think of it as the city. When we went to Manhattan, we said “We’re going to the city.”  I  also would be spending time with my Dad’s sister, my adventurous, independent and always interesting Aunt Clair.

Though I did not ordinarily focus on my wardrobe, this was an exception. For one thing, I was feeling a bit better about my body. For a brief time during high school, after having some success at Weight Watchers and staying quite active (I played basketball on my high school team), I was in reasonably good shape. Mom and I bought some clothes that I felt good in.

I chose my high-waisted, plaid, bell-bottom slacks. They were red and black with a thread of yellow, quite stylish at the time. I put on a black turtleneck sweater. I had to decide whether to tuck the top in or wear it out. I modeled for my mom and she suggested I go upstairs and ask Uncle Terry what he thought. Maybe Dad wasn’t home at the time. I was nervous as I climbed the stairs. Uncle Terry gave me a thumbs up for either way. If I tucked it in, I felt like it emphasized my chest. I wore the sweater out. Though I felt more comfortable in my body, I wasn’t ready to make that statement.

It was winter and holiday lights made the theater district even more festive than usual. I don’t recall how I got to the city – if Aunt Clair picked me up or if my Dad drove me in. I know I would not have taken the subway by myself. At that time, taking the LL in the evening alone was simply not an option – too dangerous.  Either way, Aunt Clair and I arrived at the theater and found our seats along with several thousand others. The theater was packed. Our seats were in the center in the lower balcony – perfect to see the whole stage, the dancers’ full bodies and the patterns they formed.

We saw three pieces: Blues Suite, Cry and, the finale, Revelations. I was enthralled by each one in turn. The program took us through the range of human emotion, from despair to joy, from anger to triumph. The audience was totally immersed in the ride. Revelations uses spirituals as its spine and the theater felt like what I imagine to be a revival meeting in a black church. Being a white, Jewish person, I had no point of reference for this, but I loved it. The heart of the dance was universal, showing us the human spirit in all its dimensions, but calling upon the specific experience of African-Americans. When the performance concluded, the audience, which represented a cross-section of New Yorkers, kept clapping, stomping and singing – even when the lights came up. No one wanted to leave, no one wanted to break the joyous spell. Eventually, after many minutes, people started to make their way toward the exits. Aunt Clair and I were exhilarated.

I have returned to see Alvin Ailey many times since. Though not all performances elicited the excitement of that first one, I have always been moved and grateful for the opportunity to see so much talent. I come away amazed at what the human form can communicate. Once we get through this period of social distancing, I can’t imagine a more perfect choice of performances to see than Revelations. If you have an opportunity to see it live, take it.

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And, thank you, Aunt Clair for opening my eyes to what dance and theater could be.