Loneliness and connections in the midst of COVID
By Raman Mundair - 31/07/20
“I haven't felt connected. I feel more disconnected than ever,” says Neha Apsara, a 22-year-old student at Glasgow School of Art, and despite Boris Johnson's rallying cry of community 'Blitz' spirit during COVID-19, she has felt lonely and isolated.
South Asian and in the high-risk category for COVID-19, Neha has a hidden disability and is one of thousands self-isolating due to pre-existing health conditions. She is of a generation that is often assumed to be comfortable with digital and social media but for Neha, who is neuro-divergent, this hasn't been the case. “I'm really not great with digital communication. Due to my learning differences, I struggle to build meaningful conversations without being face to face.” The student feels that during lock-down she has lost her confidence and most of her social skills too, “I was very much in the starting phases of building a community for myself before lock-down. I hadn't envisioned that I needed to establish deep connections before lock-down to make sure I had people to count on through it.”
For people like Neha, COVID-19 has emphasised the failure of heteronormative, patriarchal systems of support: if you’re not coupled up or have no support from or access to a traditional family network you must choose to construct alternative support mechanisms. The lock-down has forced people to undertake difficult decisions. Erica Lynes, 22, a front-line key worker, was transracially adopted and is now estranged from her white adoptive family, and lives in a remote part of Scotland. “Family aren't always the one you’re brought up with. You make your own family...[with] friends.” She thought that she could weather the pandemic through virtual connections, but the reality was somewhat different. Trying to maintain these connections was challenging, especially as she faces ongoing mental health issues which made her feel vulnerable and isolated, feelings which became heightened during the pandemic. “Online events [have] been hard to engage with...It takes courage and confidence to take part as an individual rather than face to face or in a group. So even though I felt part of a group I felt so alone and also very fake as I wasn't who I was because I was behind a screen.”
This aspect of performing wellness or projecting a particular, curated identity has felt stressful and has perpetuated feelings of isolation in young People of Colour. “Engaging with people through a screen can be so hard as everyone puts a [figurative] mask on... It feels so weird,” says Erica. The most challenging impact of COVID-19 on Erica has been a forced separation from a key part of her coping mechanism: “I gave my dog up who is my heart and soul ... due to my work as a social care worker. I was working 4 nights and that wasn't fair on my dog Elsa. I put her health first and her well-being. I gave her to a friend [to look after]...I missed my companion very much, it hurts not to have her by my side.” Erica is cynical about the displays of community spirit she sees promoted; it doesn’t feel real to her. She believes that post-pandemic not much will change and the lack of support and concern she experienced will continue. She says, “I do believe people will go back to old habits...when we go back to normal, or the normal we thought we had.”
Felix Ford, a freelance artist based in Reading has found the proliferation of online events and the expectation that she can attend them all in a meaningful way quite stressful, “[It] made me feel lonelier in some respects; part of connection for me is feeling seen and sharing a depth of experience. I have struggled with friends and family who have been furloughed and who are suddenly expecting, demanding availability for things like quizzes and zoom-socials - stuff I would normally avoid. In that respect I have felt, as a self-employed person, a bit invisible, and that has made me feel lonelier.”
A more positive virtual experience that Felix had was an online cooking class via a project called Migrateful Kitchen. “This was a wonderful experience of cooking a new-to-me recipe in my kitchen along with seven other people also in their respective kitchens, and it was beautiful because firstly we were sharing food together and also I learnt something important about caramelising garlic in butter at the start of making a prawn curry.” Felix reflects that when online exchanges have been positive, “knowledge, culture and ideas have been exchanged; connections in my life which I value have been deepened through online connectivity.” But “when the experiences have been bad, I’ve been sitting there thinking, 'Why am I here? What are we even talking about?'”
Felix has had difficulties in the past with over-engagement of social media and recognises the need to practice self-care and find a delicate balance: “When the pandemic hit and lock-down began, I was extremely frightened about the sudden influx of demands coming from my phone and feared my inability to regulate my level of phone engagement. I am white. I cannot imagine how toxic these spaces are for people who are Black, Indigenous and People of Colour. Because of these factors, and that I was coming off antidepressants throughout the last few months, I have been wary of my over-engagement with social media through lock-down [However] at the same time, my work, my livelihood all depend on my being online and publicising what I am doing.”
The murder of George Floyd by US police in May 2020 has had and continues to have a profound impact on the mental health of Black people around the world. Black people were dealing with the double labour of having to navigate the structural racist systems keenly highlighted by COVID-19 and the trauma of processing a state sanctified murder of someone who could so easily have been themselves. This painful stress was further exacerbated by the wave of white people suddenly awake and demanding engagement and explanation from Black people about racism.
Amongst the People of Colour who spoke to Fringe of Colour, Tobi noted that as a key worker he had managed the pandemic and lock-down fairly well - this changed with the murder of George Floyd. “It sparked my anger and frustration, reminding me of my own experience of systemic racism and inspired me to speak out. I wanted to attend the protests in London but as my father is ill, I've been unable to go.” To process this trauma Tobi posted on social media and to his astonishment, found that white, working-class peers he had known all his life, and whom he identified as friends and fellow 'East-end boys', challenged the notion that the murder was racist and insisted that his feelings and emotion were misplaced. “I ended the conversation saying that arguing was a game for him and that my experience of racism was a lifelong struggle...While I felt unable to challenge racism most of my life I knew that after George Floyd's murder I had to in some way challenge it…I know I won't change [some] minds but I do it as many people will be listening, who like me felt unable to speak up, [and] if I stay silent they won't hear me.” For Tobi, navigating online spaces has been essential and a way to feel part of a movement, allowing him space to speak out about his experiences of racism and offering him a space for solidarity.
Linda and Lorraine, both Black women of Caribbean heritage in their fifties, have worked for years promoting racial equality and Black history. Both experts in their field, of late they have found their services in high demand by the white media. Lorraine expresses frustration at being interviewed by the local BBC radio station during the recent flurry of interest in Black history and culture by the white media, and despite having mentioned several key Black abolitionists, the sound-bite was edited to feature the one white, male historical figure she mentioned. Linda ordinarily prefers her own company, but when George Floyd’s murder happened during lock-down, she was taken aback by complex feelings of isolation and noticed that she chose to stay at home, nest and listen to music for self-comfort. She carefully chose who she spoke with about his murder, she realised that even with long-standing white friends, she did not want to engage at length with them. “I felt the need to respond but at the same time, less able to respond. I found myself thinking about the potential white backlash and was surprised at how much more frightening and isolating this felt.”
The confusing health messaging of this Conservative government and ongoing international virus spikes suggest that it's highly likely that we will face a second wave of COVID-19. Perhaps these last few months will be viewed as a seminal time where we began to consider our coping strategies. Certainly, this is an opportunity for ongoing reflection and welcome change.
Online spaces are important, vital in fact, and they can help mediate potential feelings of loneliness, isolation and foster moments of connection. However, this in itself is not enough. We need to find tangible ways of being present for one another and establish community support that is more than lip service. We need to recognise that under current, ongoing pressures we frequently lack the capacity and energy to bring this into action. This is a collective task, the labour of which must be placed in the privileged hands of those who are least affected.
COVID-19 disproportionately impacts on Black and Brown people. During this time, Black people have had to deal with the reality of state-sanctioned violence and racism as realised in the brutal murder of George Floyd. During an already vulnerable time, the emotional labour and violence of this cannot be underestimated. It’s not enough for white people to respond with a Black square on social media or other visual virtue signalling. We need to expect and ask for much more and perhaps now, more than ever, we should not keep calm and carry on.
Writer, artist, playwright and filmmaker Raman Mundair identifies as a Queer, British Asian intersectional feminist and activist. She is the award winning author of Lovers, Liars, Conjurers and Thieves, A Choreographer’s Cartography, The Algebra of Freedom and Incoming: Some Shetland Voices. Her film 'Trowie-Buckie' has been shortlisted for Sharp Shorts 2020.
Twitter: @MundairRaman | Instagram: @ramanmundair / @rmundair
