Please welcome today’s guest writer, Renee Maring. Renee graduated from Calvin in 2019 with a degree in political science. Much like every good political science student, she currently lives and works in Washington, D.C. She spends her days walking around the city and unsuccessfully trying to impress her coworkers with her movie choices.
I wish I had stories of excitement and wonder to share with you, something to distract myself and others from the monotony of isolation and quarantine. Currently, the only interesting aspect of my life is living in the nation’s capital. My days are spent working from my living room, wearing some combination of t-shirt and running shorts, and apologizing to conference call participants for the barking dog in the background. My evenings wind down with walks through the National Mall, every trip filled with hypocritical remarks, such as “I can’t believe so many people are out right now.”
The Mall, my neighborhood, and the streets of DC are eerily empty; even the famed cherry blossoms are contained behind caution tape and police barricades, keeping out nonexistent crowds. It certainly isn’t empty in a post-apocalyptic sense, more like driving around town on Christmas Day as a child—seeing for a brief moment what the world is like without other people. Each evening is like the Postal Service’s “The District Sleeps Alone Tonight” has become a reality. It feels as though we’re all trying to fill the uncomfortable gaps left during what should be a busy, tourist-filled season. The National Gallery of Art’s steps have become the unofficial workout zone for the Hill’s fitness-minded residents; one of my morning runs included a Capitol Police officer driving down the Mall blaring “Eye of the Tiger” for the few of us there. Front lawns along East Capitol Street display outdoor dinner parties with guests six feet apart or impromptu accordion concerts, replacing the sounds of traffic and sirens.
I should consider myself lucky to be holed-up in a place with such beautiful sights available to me, but I’ve grown to miss the small parts of my routine that have been taken for granted. It’s been almost a month since I hopped on the 92 bus and sat next to my soccer teammate on the way to our game, both of us taking turns to explain why we’re running late this time. Lately, I walk through an empty Eastern Market and wonder when Ken, a lovely man who sells vintage L.L.Bean jackets out of his Hyundai, will return with his clothing racks. Since I’d decided to leave the city at the beginning of this summer, I worry my chances to see either of them have gone. Most of all, I miss not being constantly reminded that we’re in danger—it’s impossible to leave your home without seeing masks and gloves. Isolation has a way of making you realize which little aspects of your routine make you happy, or at least make you feel at ease.
It isn’t all loneliness and wishing for normalcy. I get through each day with the help of Emma, the best housemate Craigslist can possibly produce. Emma’s days are spent planning lessons remotely for her seventeen preschoolers, recording herself reading books, and sounding out words for them to try on their own. Every week includes video chats with each of her students so they can tell her all about their day—an attempt to maintain a slight sense of normalcy while they’re separated. It is impossible to listen to a five-year-old explain what they’re growing in their backyard garden without your heart melting (it’s strawberries, by the way). If the shutdown continues much longer, I’m convinced she will buy herself a hazmat suit so she can visit and hug every single kid. She and I survive each week by working our way through the Trader Joe’s frozen Indian food selection and picking movies to watch together.
This certainly wasn’t how I anticipated my last two months living in DC would be spent—then again, I’m sure isolation and quarantine are rarely penciled in on anyone’s calendar. While I enjoy Emma’s company, being stuck in a house together all day wasn’t on the list of things to do before I left. I made plans to visit my favorite art galleries, try a few must-visit restaurants, and catch a few shows before packing up my life and returning to Michigan. Those plans are replaced with making homemade ice cream with my housemate, watching the sunrise with friends at vacant monuments, and Zoom happy hours with coworkers. I don’t know what will happen in the next two months or how I’ll be able say goodbye to people and places I love at a distance. Until I figure that out, Emma and I will be here, eating some palak paneer while I make her watch Honey Boy with me one more time.
2 Comments
Submit a Comment
This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.
While things might not be going how you planned them to be, I encourage you to try to make the most of things! Things are never really as bad as we think, though we often fool ourselves into thinking so!
Thanks for sharing with the post calvin. Keep writing as your heart leads.