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Op-Ed

We all can choose to be the silver lining in the cloud of the coronavirus | Opinion

Eric Drake, in Oakland, California, holds his message for cruise passengers from the Grand Princess after they were stuck at sea when at least 21 people tested positive for the coronavirus in March.
Eric Drake, in Oakland, California, holds his message for cruise passengers from the Grand Princess after they were stuck at sea when at least 21 people tested positive for the coronavirus in March. Getty Images

The world feels like a scary place these days, and as we all hunker down, I keep thinking about what unites and divides us as individuals, communities and Americans — the paradox of our shared vulnerability and our tendency to distance ourselves from those whom we perceive as different.

Our denial of this vulnerability and our lack of empathy for and connection to those of different creeds, colors and conditions have caused increasing pangs of isolation and, writ large, the election of leaders who ravage our social safety net.

At a time when millions of Americans are suddenly closer to crisis, needing support from that safety net — health insurance, unemployment benefits, short- or long-term disability insurance, Medicaid, food stamps, etc. — we are poorly equipped to respond. More than ever, we see that what separates me, or you, from the homeless man on the street is merely a series of moments. If that. It’s that easy, and the line that thin.

Still, in the midst of the dysfunction, there is something positive and worthy of our pride and our hope. As millions of people sacrifice and stay home out of concern for themselves, their loved ones and their communities, there is a message that emerges: We still care about each other. And we are capable of big things. As many question the continued promise of America and our relationship to fellow citizens, the power of this moment, of this message, bears acknowledgment.

Yes, we care. And, in moments of chaos and tragedy, we come together.

Let us capitalize on this moment and emerge from it better than we were before, in a place where denial of our vulnerability meets self-awareness, and where inefficiency, corruption and the undermining of our social safety net — the state of Florida, unfortunately, is a case in point — are relegated to the past. Right now, we have the collective goodwill to effect real change in America and to propel us into a brighter future that breaks free from the chaos and division of the past four years; one where we govern with humanity and empathy, and a recognition of our own self-interest.

It is fitting, then, that the social safety net is not merely a patchwork of government programs but of people looking out for one another by staying home or stepping up when a family member, friend or neighbor is in need. It consists of coworkers treating others as they themselves would want to be treated. Of first responders and healthcare workers leaving their families to travel across the country to shore up services in the pandemic’s hardest hit regions. Of communities donating money and food to strapped food banks and young people placing calls to senior citizens who may be lonely. Of movements like the one I joined, called Weave: The Social Fabric Project, founded by David Brooks at the Aspen Institute, rising up to heal the fragmentation and isolation in 21st century America. It consists of all of these people finding creative ways to stay connected and take care of those they love.

These days, there is a sense of what is precious — and vulnerable — and it crosses class, race and political lines. It’s about all of us, caring for one another.

And that’s a silver lining if I ever saw one.

Melissa Blechman is co-founder and vice president of the Blechman Foundation for Parkinson’s Research.

This story was originally published May 11, 2020 at 5:10 PM.

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