As the coronavirus (COVID-19) pandemic goes on, individual stories about how the changes in American life—from school and business closings to lost wages and social distancing—are affecting families are starting to surface.
Experts and government officials at the local, state, and federal levels have continued to warn Americans about hoarding food and supplies, but many store shelves are empty as people try to plan for being stuck at home. However, when you over-buy and stock your home with things you don’t need quite yet—others may go without. And that’s exactly what happened to Lauren Whitney, a mom whose TikTok video about trying to buy diapers for her child went viral.
After trying a few stores, Whitney recorded a video of herself in tears at Walmart when she couldn’t find the diapers she needed. “To all you crazy people buying out all the diapers, how am I supposed to diaper my child if I can’t afford 20 at a time like you can?” she said. It’s truly heartbreaking and a snapshot of what a lot people across the country may be feeling during an incredibly uncertain time on so many levels.
“In the moment when I was filming the clip, I was feeling stress, frustration, and fear for my family,” Whitney tells Glamour. “It had been a bad week for me and seeing the shelves bare was the straw that broke me.”
Many on social media were quick to offer words of support.
In a follow-up video, Whitney said she was thankful to everyone who offered to help. “We’re okay,” she said. “We’re not the richest of people, of course, but we’re not destitute.”
In my immediate circle, you didn’t “drop by.” But in my grandparents’ homes, the practice was not just accepted, but expected. If my grandmother heard that a friend was shopping at the JC Penney near her home, she’d say, “You were only a few blocks away. Why didn’t you come over?”
I loved afternoons in my grandparent’s house in LA, laying on the living room floor with one of their L. Frank Baum books, the gauzy sunlight making stripes across my legs, while the adults chatted in the next room about music and mutual friends and the TV show, Bonanza. I swore that when I grew up, I would follow their example and not my mother’s: friends would be welcomed whenever they came to the door.
That’s not what happened, of course. I was too busy, on most nights, to invite people over, and no matter how many times I told people they could come at any time, not a single person has ever taken me up on that invitation in more than 20 years. My grandparents were never really lonely. Up until a couple years ago, I was.
As a society, we have become much more carefully scheduled, less social, and much lonelier. According to numerous surveys, social isolation has doubled among many adults since the 1990s, and social isolation is deadly. Loneliness and social isolation increase a person’s risk of death by 25% to 30%.
In terms of pure interaction, we’re more connected than ever before. If you can’t reach someone in an email, you can send a text. If it’s a real emergency, some of us pick up the phone. Barring that, we can send a message through Facebook or slide into their DMs on Instagram. But if “likes” satisfied our need to socialize, we would all feel a strong sense of communal belonging.
But we know on some level that’s not how it works. Just over two decades ago, most Americans had three close friends. Now, that number is down to two and the percentage of people who report they have no one they could talk to about serious issues has risen to 25%. One in four Americans is socially isolated—no pandemic required.
Part of the problem is that we’re cutting out expressions of our basic human-ness, because they’re “inefficient”: boredom, long phone conversations, hobbies, neighborhood barbecues, membership in social clubs. We smile at the anachronisms of the past when people had time for things like pickup basketball and showing slides of Hawaiian vacations to their friends. How quaint, we think, that our grandparents joined sewing circles.
But shouldn’t our ancestors have had less time than we do? After all, we have microwaves and dishwashers and gas lawnmowers and the internet! We have robot vacuums and AI assistants that tell us the weather and set our alarms. If you add up all the time saved through technological advancement over the past several decades, shouldn’t we have hours of excess time in which to do as we please?
These are the questions I was asking in 2018 as I grappled with my own feelings of despair, long before a virus swept the planet. I would cancel plans to go to parties because I felt exhausted and stressed. All I wanted to do was sit on the couch, watch Netflix, and relax. But one of the most relaxing activities a human can engage in is social interaction.
And even in a time of crisis, deep, real social interaction is possible. “A rising tide can indeed lift a variety of boats,” John Cacioppo and William Patrick write in the book Loneliness, “but in a culture of social isolates, atomized by social and economic upheaval and separated by vast inequalities, it can also cause millions to drown.”
Across the globe, people are grappling with the growing COVID-19 pandemic. Deaths due to the coronavirus have soared in Italy as hospitals try to manage high demands and lack of supplies. In the U.S., panic levels are high, with health officials advising “social distancing” and taking extra precautions to protect your health. Most major live events, TV productions, and movie releases have been canceled while citizens grapple with postponing their own important gatherings to protect vulnerable, immune-compromised individuals.
Thankfully, fear hasn’t stopped people from giving back to their communities and inspiring us all in these scary times. From acts of kindness to major donations that will help those who are sick and/or out of work, here are just a few of the ways celebrities and regular people, alike, are doing good in the midst of the coronavirus outbreak:
Zion Williamson will cover the salaries of Smoothie King Center staff
The NBA announced that all games have been canceled for the rest of the season, which means stadium workers and employees could lose serious wages. However, New Orleans Pelicans forward Zion Williamson wants to do his part: He announced on Instagram that he’ll help cover the salaries of those who work at the Smoothie King Center.
“My mother has always set an example for me about being respectful for others and being grateful for what we have, and so today I am pledging to cover the salaries for all of those Smoothie King Center workers for the next 30 days,” he said.
Kevin Love donates $100,000 for the staff at the Rocket Mortgage FieldHouse
Cleveland Cavaliers player Kevin Love was one of the first athletes who stepped in to help stadium staff that will struggle over canceled games. He promised $100,000 to benefit workers at Cleveland’s Rocket Mortgage FieldHouse.
