The biggest lesson of 2020 so far is not about virology. It is not about the efficacy of masks or even about finding the mute button in Zoom. The biggest lesson of these past many months is about privilege.
Many Americans have had the opportunity to learn more about access to health care, distribution of finances and the limitations of justice in these months than they’ve had in the past few years. I realize I will have lost some folks at the word “privilege,” but as we are facing the reality that many of us might have our marriages overturned in the coming year, I think we are acutely aware of where our privilege runs out.
These past few months have been a brutal onslaught of new and difficult information. We have experienced an ongoing stream of new expectations and adjustments in an ever-shifting reality.
For many of us, this time has been wrought with unimaginable loss and grief. Changes of schedules and shifts in how we do our jobs, go to school and even buy food have been stressful. For the millions of Americans who have lost their jobs, this situation is nothing short of catastrophic.
The weight of what we have endured is crushing us. Like many people, I have watched people I love get sick. This highly contagious virus has impacted all forms of health care, even for those who do not have COVID-19. In the worst cases, I had to wait at home for calls about deaths, when I normally would have been at the bedside.
But the cost of COVID-19 is not only measured in sickness and death. Look at what we have given up, what we have sacrificed and what we have lost.
Weddings canceled, graduations missed, funerals postponed, social events avoided, many of the things that make us feel whole and normal have been stripped away.
My intention in naming this is not to stir up more grief and sadness, but rather to point out what we have been carrying. If you are exhausted, there is a reason for it. Do not dismiss the burden you bear.
Being aware of any privileges you carry does not mean that your own suffering is insignificant. For example, my husband and I have deeply grieved that our twins missed the rites of passage of their senior year of high school and this pain is not lessened by the knowledge that others have lost much more.
Many of us find ourselves simply carrying too much. As all of us think about the weight we are shouldering, we become even more weary from the reality that it might be a very long time before we can set it down.
This is why it is very hard for me to hear the president of this country say that COVID-19 is not a very big deal.
It highlights that in this nation, we are not all in the same struggle. A person claims to have mild symptoms and yet was airlifted to one of the top-ranked hospitals in the world, given access to cutting edge medications and monitored by teams of professionals.
Meanwhile, people that you and I know and love are being sent home and told to take Advil and try not to die.
The problem is not that the president receives excellent health care. The problem is that because his needs are covered, we can act as though ours will be too. But we will not have the same access and we cannot afford to be nonchalant or reckless. Over 200,000 people in our nation have died and many more lives are going to be lost in the coming weeks and months. We know that the lives lost are disproportionately the lives of people of color and this reality will be ignored by those who are vehemently shouting “all lives matter.”
I hope that in the profound anger and grief that so many of us are feeling, we can analyze and learn something about privilege and access. I know that many people get very uncomfortable when we use the word “privilege.”
People who have privileges of various types get defensive and hear the word as a criticism. Privilege in and of itself is not bad. Privilege becomes dangerous when we are unaware of it.
We have been given an opportunity to learn in these past few months. The greatest lesson in this time – for many of us – is just the fact that we have a lot to learn. As the chaos rages on, we have begun to see that while we are all in the same storm, we really aren’t all in the same boat.
The stress of this time could push any of us to the breaking point, but add in an election and for many of us, it is just too much. In our community, we are well aware that politics are personal.
We are struggling and our struggles are not identical. In this heated and painful time, as politics are challenging our beliefs and dividing our families, we only have one option. We must vote, like our lives depend on it.
As different as we all are, as individuals in a community, our livelihoods, our health, our marriages and our very survival will be determined by the outcomes of November 3rd.
Rev. Jakob Hero-Shaw is the Senior Pastor of the Metropolitan Community Church of Tampa. Learn more at MCCTampa.com. In this column, he is sharing his opinion as a private individual and not speaking as MCC’s pastor.
