How we define our state of mind for the foreseeable future may be a result of our 2020-2021 Covid experiences.
According ro Emile Durkheim, a pioneering sociologist of the early 20th century, "our greatest bliss is found in moments of collective effervescence." There is energy and harmony in a group, large or small, that is sharing a purpose.
Those moments were few during Covid quarantines and their aftermath. Emotions that spread from person to person in a collective (without our realizing it) were missing. Lockdowns and distancing prevented touching and sharing joy or purpose. The number of adults with symptoms of depression or anxiety spiked during our isolation in 2020 (NY Times Sunday Review, July 11, 2021, "The Joy We've Been Missing," Adam Grant, pg. 3).
Fear was the first negative emotion to spread. We hoarded toilet paper, masks, hand sanitizer, and scrubbed our groceries. Depression became contagious through social media. In order not to succumb to negative emotional contagion on the internet (Zoom meetings, etc.), eye contact was avoided. Introverts, as well as extroverts, missed collective effervescence and languished somewhere between stagnation and survival. I was one of those. This is the first blog I've written in several months.
In May, '21, Charley and I finally joined in collective happiness again. We hugged our loved ones, went to dinner with friends and family (in their homes!), and planned summer trips. Others went to work in person instead of in their pajama bottoms. We had a new understanding of mental health and our individual happiness. We began to grasp that flourishing includes collective effervescence. We witnessed Italians singing together out their windows, residents of New York City honoring essential workers with fireworks, homemade signs, and a march. To be loved, we needed to profess love. We were back on track, social distancing and masks a memory, vaccinations in our arms.
But SURPRISE! Covid had mutated! The Delta variant has increased the probability that those who are unvaccinated and contract the virus will be hospitalized and stricken more severely than those who have been vaccinated. Even the Summer Olympics couldn't distract us from the news of spikes in the variant among certain states across the south and of hospitals that were overwhelmed there. Our collective effervescence turned to a lack of understanding of those who chose to remain unvaccinated. In early August, 2021, one in three Americans who were eligible for the vaccine hadn't received a single dose. Lives, jobs, experiences, money, mental and physical health, were again in jeopardy. Anger can become a contagious emotion. The difference between it and collective effervescence is that anger can hurt oneself or others. We began to don masks, change plans, and worry about our loved remaining safe once again (two of our grandsons were under twelve, too young to be eligible for the vaccines).
Exhausted, despairing rage was finding comfort in turning complex realities into simple "us" versus "them" categories. A study of survey results among those eligible in March '21 found that 22% in the study hadn't gotten the vaccine because of concerns about cost, safety, or systems that already "did them wrong" (NY Times Sunday Review, August 8, 2021, "What to Do With Our Covid Rage," Sarah Smarsh, pg. 4).
Sarah Smarsh in her article, "What to Do With Our Covid Rage," suggests ways to close the gap between those vaccinated and those unvaccinated in this country. A lack of money, power, and education has kept uninsured Americans among the group with the lowest vaccination rate among 22 subgroups examined by the Kaiser Family Foundation (NY Times Sunday Review, August 8, 2021, "What to Do With Our Covid Rage," Sarah Smarsh, pg. 4). Smarsh suggests we "demand public health MANDATES; we communicate with the cost-anxious and wait-and-see people who remain open-minded despite skepticism wrought by a lifetime of disadvantage; we do good deeds to negate harmful ones, like donating money to a nonprofit health clinic..."
Americans were among the first in the world to receive the vaccines into our blood, thanks to a feat of modern science. W:ith a booster shot awaiting approval for the general public, those who receive the serum will almost certainly survive the pandemic in its present forms to feel the collective effervescence again in a sports stadium, community building, at an indoor wedding, or at a school play.
