Lockdown Journal - We Are not in the Same Boat
The idea that we are all in the same boat reduces our inherent and acquired inequalities to a supposedly homogenous entity. This notion is a mere reflection of our ignorance to the inevitable tensions amongst those who are at a disadvantage and suffer a greater burden of the ongoing pandemic and the subsequent implications.
— Minah Faiz Rashad
The world has seen over 4 million COVID-19 cases and close to 300,000 deaths related to the disease. Yet, some people are still saying that we are all in the same boat. We are not. We are going through an unprecedented time in our lives where each one of us is facing unique problems and our lived realities and needs differ from one another.
The idea that we are all in the same boat reduces our inherent and acquired inequalities to a supposedly homogenous entity. This notion is a mere reflection of our ignorance to the inevitable tensions amongst those who are at a disadvantage and suffer a greater burden of the ongoing pandemic and the subsequent implications. The problem becomes more apparent when this mindset is translated into blanket policies on how people should be treated during this pandemic.
None of us imagined that we would be spending the rest of our days in Oxford like this. It feels like my journey ended abruptly, robbing me of a once in a lifetime experience, at no one’s fault. Yet, I feel guilty to mourn this given that others across the world are in more dire circumstances.
As I go out for my daily government-permitted run, enjoying the fresh air and the beauty Oxford spring has to offer, I can’t help but think of my family and friends back home in the Maldives who can’t afford to have the same freedom as they live in high-density spaces, where social-distancing guidelines are more difficult to implement.
As I try to be productive and study adjusting to the new digital way of life, I can’t help but notice my stethoscope hanging on the wall collecting dust. My friends and colleagues in the medical field and other frontline workers are risking their lives while I am here trying to reach the word limit for my essays. The feeling of helplessness paired with a desire to help is a daily struggle that I am learning to cope with.
As I cook the next Instagram inspired dish to break my fast in this auspicious month of Ramadan, I am reminded of the migrant workers in Maldives who can’t afford to buy groceries or even one meal. This pandemic is affecting them disproportionately. A lot of their jobs are now unneeded and, as a result, their families back home who depend on them are also left to struggle.
As I go out for my daily government-permitted run, enjoying the fresh air and the beauty Oxford spring has to offer, I can’t help but think of my family and friends back home in the Maldives who can’t afford to have the same freedom as they live in high-density spaces, where social-distancing guidelines are more difficult to implement.
As I walk down the empty streets of Oxford appreciating the architectural marvels it holds, the eeriness slowly creeps in and I can only attempt to fathom the problems that people with mental health disorders or victims of domestic or child abuse face on a daily basis now, having to stay locked-in with their abuser.
As I see and share the daily preventive messages advocating for proper hand washing pop up on social media, I can’t help but wonder how this would be feasible in refugee camps or communities that are fighting for clean water and sanitation.
All these structural and social exclusions, shaped by privilege and oppression, are insidious and not limited to COVID-19. It is a status quo that has been built over decades by historical forces, social construction, societal structure, and human relationships. If anything, this pandemic has brought all these issues to the forefront. The dual importance of recognizing our own privilege and strengthening our empathy is the first step to help address those who are more vulnerable to the circumstances. When the virus does not discriminate why should we?
I fail to resonate with the assumption that everyone should react the same way to the pandemic. It’s okay not to be productive. It’s okay to take your time to adjust. It’s okay if your daily routines are disrupted. It’s okay to be overwhelmed with all the information and alarming statistics. It’s okay to be stressed about the uncertainties. It’s okay to not receive the same fulfilment from your digital conversations. It’s okay to be sad about your own problems, even if it is something minor and feels insignificant compared to what’s going on around you. It’s also okay if you are feeling the opposite too.
It’s okay to feel happy to have your loved ones around you. It’s okay to catch up on the piled-up readings. It’s okay to pick up a new skill or learn a new language. It’s okay to Instagram your new workout routine or get on the latest challenge. It’s okay to find opportunity for entrepreneurship. It’s imperative to give yourself due credit, take time to find your bearings, and appreciate that we all have different means of coping with adversity. The important thing here is to be respectful so that it does not infringe on the right of another. Our solidarity does not emerge from being in the same boat, but from recognizing and being considerate to the fact that we are facing the same storm. And, the best way to navigate through this storm is to acknowledge that we are all in different boats hoping to survive.
