Ethical Engagement: Pandemic Version

I have been incredibly humbled several times the last couple of months during the pandemic. My hope is that all of you have been humbled as well, and regardless if you have, I encourage everyone to find ways to be humbled in the future and to engage in difficult discourse.

I’m going to be perfectly candid for a second. I consider myself to possess above average intelligence in terms of critical thinking and comprehension of multifaceted issues. Moreover, as someone who studies and practices theology as a professional career, I’m more than cognizant of the inherent complexity of the world in terms of ethical issues. My experience of the last couple of months, however, has been even more humbling than usual as I witness the profound moral ambiguity surrounding the decisions to address COVID-19.

I think what upsets me more than anything at the present is when people do NOT recognize that these decisions ARE laden with layers of complexity; decisions about reopening, combatting the virus, etc. have protracted implications that are far beyond anyone’s comprehension. Addressing the pandemic is NOT simply a “right” vs. “wrong” decision, just as many actual ethical dilemmas are not. And I have been humbled by the degree of nuance in this situation, and I hope that many others have- or will be- too.

This past weekend is a prime example. As many of us know, Iowa received permission to partially open restaurants, salons, and gyms at 50% capacity in its remaining 22 counties (including Polk/Dallas, which is the most heavily populated part of our state.) And this decision was met with significant CONTROVERSY. Some people were cheering for this decision, and other people were not. A number of my friends on Facebook were frustrated with this decision because they did not think it was safe enough to open due to the fact that we were not far enough past our peak. As a way of venting this frustration, they posted statuses from all of the restaurants in the area that were choosing to NOT comply with this loosened restriction; these restaurants would still be operating on a carryout/delivery basis only.

First, I want to validate that I LOVE that people care so much about people’s safety. In a world filled with mass consumerism and obsession over the almighty dollar, it’s incredible to see people value people’s health and lives as a top priority. However, my concern is that in pursuance of these values, people’s understanding of the situation misses several nuances and context that are ALSO vital in knowing how to make decisions that lead to human flourishing. (I know that I certainly am guilty of missing parts of the context!) And so, in the above example, the implicit assumption then seems to be this: “Restaurants that open for dine in are “bad.” Restaurants that remain closed for dine in are “good.” Whether or not individuals intend for this to be the message, it is certainly a justifiable interpretation based on the statuses presented. Posting statuses only from restaurants that are NOT opening- without any other context or words- seems to suggest that these are the restaurants we need to pay attention to and patronize because they are doing the “right” thing.

Nevertheless, the “right” decision is not usually so simple, nor is it easily mandated as the most “moral” decision to every single business across the city/state. Here are a couple of examples of how I was “humbled” as I learned just how complex the decision to reopen or not was for restaurants. One of my Facebook friends (who is also a small business owner), explained that for some restaurants, they might be sticking with carryout/delivery because it’s a better financial decision. Since restaurants have to maintain <50% capacity, they won’t be making as much money, and so it’s better for them economically to simply do carryout/delivery because then they don’t have to pay extra staff. So, what is driving restaurants decision to open vs. not open? I’m sure there are a VARIETY of factors, and they really DO care about the health and safety of their staff. However…let’s be honest, economics HAS to play into their decision in some capacity. It’s not fair to simply state that the restaurants “not opening” are MORE moral because they are staying closed for “health concerns.” Yes, like I said, that certainly could be part of their decision, but it might not be all of it. Dollars could definitely be a driving factor in their decision. And, if restaurants are smart, they are GOING to phrase it as a concern for public safety because it sells. #shrug Now, I’m definitely not blasting restaurants that do this right now- they simply need to earn an income and put food on the table like the rest of us. What I AM saying, however, is that it is a gross oversimplification to say that one restaurant is more “moral” than the other simply based on their decision to reopen or not because you don’t know the entire context.

Here’s another example. Dissident Daughter, Amy, is a regular at Drake Diner and knows the staff there pretty well. She informed me that Drake Diner’s situation is fairly fortunate with the pandemic because they have already paid off their mortgage. They’ve been a restaurant staple in Des Moines since 1987, so they don’t have a mortgage. Okay, if a business doesn’t have a mortgage, it is much easier to have some flexibility with your production and business model. You can afford to keep the business afloat and operate on a carryout/delivery basis for a much longer time than a new restaurant. If someone has just opened their restaurant in the last couple of years, they are in a much more precarious financial position. It is so incredibly challenging to pit these businesses against one another as “ethical/right” vs. “unethical/wrong” because their situations are so different. Maybe some are motivated only by profit for their decisions, and maybe some are not. It.Is.Complex.

There’s an argument that can –and has been- made that it doesn’t matter what the particulars are; businesses should not open, period. It does not matter if they are in danger of closing if they don’t open their dining room; the fact is that they simply should not open because it increases our exposure to one another. And, I guess, here’s my stance on this. If you don’t think that restaurants/businesses should be opening, that’s great. I love that you feel that strongly about people’s health and well-being and that you have a passionate opinion. However, a couple of things. 1) If you yourself have a job, you need to acknowledge that your opinion comes from a place of privilege. No, I’m not trying to shame you- we all possess privilege in different ways. I currently have my job (although I did experience an FTE reduction), so I’m personally in a place of privilege. But you DO need to acknowledge that the fact that you have a job and can pay your bills is PRIVILEGE. And so be careful when you make judgments about businesses and restaurants because you do not know what it is like to be desperate for income or to see your dream/future crumbling around you. 2) If you think that businesses should not open, again, that’s great. There’s certainly a strong ethical argument for that, and I myself could potentially be persuaded to believe it (Again, I don’t have firm opinion at the moment because I haven’t done enough research to be satisfied.) BUT, BUT, if you believe they should not open, then you sure as hell better be advocating for some sort of universal basic income or recurring monthly pandemic payments from Congress. And I don’t just mean that you should possess these beliefs- you should be acting and advocating for them. You should be calling representatives, encouraging others to do so, writing opinion pieces, lobbying for support, etc.  Because if people don’t have any other safety net, they honestly don’t have any other choice but TO OPEN. I don’t think it’s fair to judge someone for trying to put food on the table with the only means they have and then not support them in any other way.

We absolutely need to be having these conversations because the situation is so complex. Because here’s the other wrinkle in these ethical dilemmas; I also don’t think that we should unequivocally accept people’s decisions. That’s another trend that has been occurring on social media. People are starting to realize that the situation is complex (#progress) and variables are different for each individual and business, so now there’s a push to simply “accept” whatever decision the individual/business makes because they must know what’s best for them.

I also really struggle with this because individuals cannot possibly possess all of the world’s wisdom unto themselves themselves, and this “acceptance” philosophy reeks of 1) blind individualistic assumptions about epistemology; and 2) a lack of knowing how to engage in difficult conversations with one another. I, Anne Alesch, do NOT have all of the answers about how the hell to conduct my life. I WANT people to challenge me with alternative opinions and experiences. If someone simply accepts that I know what’s best for myself, how can I ever grow? How can I ever expand and diversify my wisdom? Like I mentioned, by most standards, I’m a fairly intelligent individual. And yet, if I did not have other people challenge or push me, I would have started wearing a mask probably a month later than I did. One of my good friends is a case manager for Taylor House, and she mailed me a mask very early in the pandemic. Not only did she kindly do this, she informed me of all of the reasons that I needed to wear it. (Like I said, this was very early in the pandemic- late March- before masks became so ubiquitous and the justification for wearing them so clear and prevalent.) And she was right- I didn’t want to wear a mask, but she convinced me otherwise. So I wore the damn mask way back in March because she helped me grow. What if my friend had simply said, “You do you, boo. You know yourself best”? I wouldn’t have worn a mask, and who knows what sort of germs I may have spewed in the month until I was forced to start wearing one. Surface level acceptance is NOT good enough; we have to be open to having difficult conversations with one another. (And before I sound like a pompous asshole, believe me, there are many times during the pandemic and other phases of my life where I have completely screwed this up. I’ve blown my mom and dad out about their beliefs without listening more times than I care to remember.)

And I think that this is where the tension lies; we seem to alternate from one extreme to another. First, we judge the hell out of each other and organizations for decisions and make blanket moral declarations about these determinations, but then we also go to the other extreme where we want to unequivocally accept any decision a person/organization makes because “they must know themselves best.” What is MISSING in both of these extremes is the ability to converse with one another as human beings. What is MISSING is our ability to articulate our context and stance, to be open to possible critiques, and to find ways to constructively challenge someone else’s decisions. Don’t get me wrong- it’s hard as hell. It’s hard as hell to have difficult conversations with one another, especially when the stakes are SO HIGH and when our emotions are running rampant from stress. It’s excruciatingly challenging to not get defensive with someone else’s words, and it’s also equally demanding to find a way to critique someone without being too judgmental and harsh. These conversations are difficult in the best of times, and during a pandemic, they can be downright debilitating.

But we HAVE to do them. We HAVE to practice them. We must practice being less defensive, we must practice compassionate tone and articulation when offering suggestions, and we must practice these discussions. It’s the only way that we will grow as individuals, and it’s the only way that we will grow in our ability to construct effective public policy. We have to listen to the diverse number of stories and ideas, and we have to fine tune them so that we attempt to alleviate the myriad of suffering people are experiencing with this pandemic.

Here’s one example of the benefits that occur from difficult conversations. As I briefly touched on earlier, the universal basic income has received more attention in recent months because of the vast unemployment rates across the country. Like most ideas, this one has its merits along with its drawbacks. Some of the drawbacks include the fact that it could cause inflation, it could decrease incentive to work, and it could reduce funding for other social services. Potentially legitimate critiques, right? Well, someone else fine-tuned the idea, and they said that maybe universal basic income shouldn’t always exist, but there should be “triggers” that set whether or not it is in action. For example, if the national unemployment rate was at a certain level, THEN it would be enacted. Or, like if a state had declared a state of emergency, then it would be enacted. 

I’m not saying that the final version of the idea is one that should be proposed or that it is free of flaws. I’m merely pointing out that we are in a world of hurt right now, and unless we are willing to have difficult conversations where we both LISTEN to someone else’s context and opinion AND are open to PROVIDING compassionate feedback, we are NOT going to be able to come up with creative solutions to minimize the suffering from the sickness, unemployment, isolation, etc.

Moreover, on a more personal level, unless we are willing to listen to each other and offer feedback, we are missing out on an opportunity to deepen our connections. If we judge without listening, or if we accept without conversing, then we are losing our ability to connect and engage on a intimate level. And this, my friends, means that we run the risk of only connecting on the surface level with one another. We hinder our ability to foster that intimacy and understanding that only come when you risk vulnerability with one another.

In summary, ethics are complicated. Don’t make blanket assumptions about someone or something’s morality without better understanding the context, and even then, have some humility. However, don’t also blindly accept decisions because we all need our perspectives challenged so that we can grow and enhance our worldview. Listen, engage, and advocate. Hear one another, provide feedback, and promote new creative solutions so that we can cultivate human flourishing.

Be a Goddamn Cheetah

Then she’d look back at the cage, the only home she’s every known. She’d look at the smiling zookeepers, the bored spectators, and her panting, bouncing, begging best friend, the Lab. She’d sigh and say, “I should be grateful. I have a good enough life here. It’s crazy to long for what doesn’t even exist.”

            I’d say:

Tabitha. You are not crazy.

You are a goddamn cheetah.- Excerpt from Glennon Doyle's book Untamed

The first memory I have of being “tamed” begins the summer of my 2^nd grade year. I grew up in a small town where the only thing to do on a hot summer day was to head to the pool to swim and then get a snow cone at Tropical Sno afterward. My best friend and I at the time would wake up super early and spend our days waiting until the clock hit 12:50 PM because that meant we could hop on our bikes and ride them to the Denison Aquatic Center just in time for the doors to open at 1:00 PM.

Prior to the pool season, I remember extensively debating with myself, as well as my best friend, as to whether or not I should get a two piece or a one piece swimsuit that summer. The little girl in me knew I would be more comfortable in a one piece, as I still had baby fat, and wasn’t sure if I was ready to expose that part of myself to the world yet, and yet, the unstill part of me wanted a two piece because even at age SEVEN that was the appropriate and cool thing to do as a girl. You can probably guess what part of myself I listened to, otherwise I wouldn’t be writing this blogpost right now.

I ended up going with a two piece. The top landed a little above my belly button while the bottoms fell a couple inches shy of it. I was everything (insecure, uncomfortable, hungry, scared, annoyed) but confident in that swimsuit. I would spend an hour or so in front of the mirror in the swimsuit, prior to heading to the pool with my best friend, and just stare. I would pinch the fat on my stomach just to see how much I could grab and think thoughts like “Why can’t you have a smaller build? Why aren’t you skinnier? You shouldn’t be wearing this.”

I remember limiting my food intake specifically on pool days. If I was going to the pool, I wasn’t going to eat beforehand with the hopes that I may look a little skinnier at the pool. I also may want to be like a normal kid, and get a snack at the concession stand after swimming, so I wouldn’t want to “overdo” it beforehand. In case you’ve gotten engulfed in the story and need a reminder, I want to restate to everyone that I was SEVEN years old. At age SEVEN, I was already being told how I should look, what I should eat, what I should wear and how I should be. I was SEVEN experiencing firsthand society’s powerful encouragement of what was deemed sweet, normal, appropriate, cute, soft and tranquil for a little girl. I was listening to those voices. When I had barely just learned how to read, how to tie my shoes, how to ride a bike and other activities, I was being told that the body and brain that allowed me to excel at those activities were not quite enough.

Being “tamed” can be defined as making one less powerful or easier to control. As women, we spend our entire lives either forcing ourselves to live inside the cage which traps and suspends our possibilities and power, or we spend our entire life living outside of that cage to receive criticism and judgement for being “too bold, too direct, too wild, too daring, too much.” When we live outside of the cage, we often question whether or not what we’re doing is “normal,” and we often times might want to gravitate back towards that cage where it was extremely miserable and boring, but a little safer and a little more certain.

I’ve always been a pretty strong and bold woman from an outsider’s perspective, although I do have my insecurities (trust me). Needless to say, being “untamed” does not come without fear and questioning, and I am far from reaching a true state of wild. I am authentic and genuine, and yet the little voices in the back of my head always question whether or not I’m “womanly” enough or rather whether or not I’m “tame” enough. Similar to my seven year old swimsuit story, there have been several other instances in which society has “tamed” me and I have let them. I will name a few:

1)    Being told that I couldn’t try out for flag football in 6^th grade because it was a “boy’s sport”

2)    Being told that I couldn’t cut my hair short because it wasn’t a “girl’s hairstyle”

3)    Having sex with men after telling them “no” because it was just easier to succumb than to persist and hold firm a boundary

4)    Making myself consistently puke after every.single.meal for a solid year in college because I wanted to silence the physical and emotional hunger, yet didn’t want to experience the repercussions of eating “bad” food

5)    Being told I’m not girly enough because I prefer kicking a soccer ball to painting my nails

6)    Being asked if I’m a lesbian because I can cuss just as loud and shoot the shit just as well as the guys in the military

7)    Being told I was too sexual, yet not sexual enough, and shutting out the voice that encouraged the exploration of my sexuality

Those are just to name a few times society has “tamed” me. I am not sure that being “untamed” is a constant state, but rather a fluid one we are all working on and fighting to reach one day. A journey in which we listen to our inner voice and follow it so we can be true to ourselves and become the very best version of that true self. Some of us will never flirt with the idea of leaving our cage because we are too comfortable with what we know or too scared of the unknown. Others of us will leave the cage to return after a short period of time because we let the critics and skeptics take away our voice and power; the wild was fun for a while but the predators within the wild were just a little too much to handle. And a rare few of us, yet I wish it was all, will leave the cage, release our claws, run with our hair in the wind, our backs to the cage to never return, and to face the scary, overwhelming jungle where we were born to be. All of us were born to be cheetahs; let's be goddamn cheetahs.

Watch the Sunset Disappear...and Drink a Beer.

I’m happy to be back with the blog! I love this thing I share with my sisters and we do for ourselves. That said, I want to set expectations for my post today. This is not an insightful blog about the pandemic or what I’ve learned since COVID-19. There is not a wise, overarching purpose in this post. The purpose is that I need to write it…for myself and for someone I love.

One year ago, this week(end), I had the privilege of going to my dear friend Jeff’s celebration of life. And one year ago, on June 8, one of the most mirthful souls I’ve met departed from this world as I know it. I have kept a lot of it inside of me – death is weird. I know my sister, Anne, who is trained in grief and the grieving process, would say things much more eloquently and accurately. But it’s me writing this blog so I guess you’re going to get words like weird. Death is weird. It’s a lot of other things, too. Painful is one word that comes to mind. But it’s definitely weird.

I remember in November 2018, when Jeff told me he had stage four lung and spine cancer – HE was consoling ME. When I called him, I had no idea he was going to tell me he had stage four, metastasized cancer. I was right in the middle of a large pity party I’d thrown myself. I burst into tears and tried to ask “normal” questions and he consoled me. He told me he was moving back to the Des Moines area for treatment and that made me feel better – I’d get to see him more. I immediately texted my sister, Anne, because I knew I was probably fucking up handling death. Death is weird.

Because of Jeff’s diagnosis and move to Waukee, my RAGBRAI friend group got together a lot more (he was the heart and soul of our team). We all made it a priority to be present for Jeff and each other during those months. In a way, that experience gave us a lot more of each other. His diagnosis and death bonded a lot of people in ways that I don’t think would have happened if it weren’t for Jeff.

I guess I’ve been remiss in not telling you about Jeff…I don’t think I can adequately describe him in words. The first time I met Jeff was on RAGBRAI – at one of the towns we stopped in, one of our friends paid $20 at a bar for one of the bras hanging there – Jeff put it on with a pair of bunny ears and proceeded to pole dance (of course they had one in that small town bar) to LMFAO’s “Sexy and I Know It.” The entire bar – RAGBRAI riders and regulars alike, was laughing and smiling. Oh, I forgot to mention – he borrowed an unlit cigarette to have hanging out of his mouth for effect. And he definitely had the moves for that pole.

That’s one of my first memories of Jeff. Jeff could literally get an entire bar standing on their chairs, singing “The Boxer” by Simon and Garfunkel…this is how it went…on the part where they sing the chorus (“Lie la lie, lie la la lie lie lie, Lie la lie, lie la la la la lie la la lie) he had everyone clinking their drink at the end of ever “lie la lie”…listen to the song – you’ll know where the drinks clink (and have a drink and do a cheers – that’s what I’m doing right now). That was his personality – it was infectious, and he was so free to be, he let you free to be.

There are few people in life who I feel get to see or deserve to see your whole self – Jeff made me feel I could show and be that with him. Jeff also had opinions – sometimes outrageously hilarious and outrageously maddening opinions – and he was never shy about sharing them. I loved him for that. And he was kind. He would argue with you about politics or give you shit about being a vegetarian or a man-hater and the next minute he’d be fixing your bike tire or buying the entire bar a round of drinks.

That’s why his celebration of life took place in a huge hotel conference room, attended by people who went to grade school with him and people who had only met him a few years before. He made people feel a part of something and his energy was irresistible. I only got to know Jeff for four years and he had a lifechanging impact on me. The loss of his soul left an empty part of me, on my RAGBRAI team, on countless numbers of people who still post memories on Facebook, give blood, run, and commemorate him. I was on a bike ride this past Saturday and ran into friends – they had stopped where our RABRAI team spread some of Jeff’s ashes and found four four-leaf clovers. He is still present in so many of our lives. There are so many “Jeff stories”.

Death is weird. I have wanted to write this for a year, and I haven’t been able to – it’s still hard for me to speak about. Jeff was a doctor – and like I said, had outrageous opinions (sometimes only to shock and awe people). I catch myself wanting to hear what hilarious spin he would put on COVID-19…because that’s what he did. He was able to take a serious situation and get his friends laughing (or, on occasion, super pissed…lol). That’s what he did when he told me about his diagnosis…he took this blubbering lady and made her laugh. And he was the one who was sick.

Death is weird. There are times when suddenly I will be overcome by emotion thinking of him and tears will stream down my face…so unexpectedly that I have to analyze the moment and try to make sense of it. Death is weird – there is no making sense of it or how we react to it or when it hits us.

What I have been thinking about is that each person that touches us and touches other people – each person has their own story to tell about that person, their own experience. Even when the experiences are shared, we remember different parts, different things meant something to us, we needed different things, we gave different things, we received different things. And it’s so much to convey – we have to rely on a story here and a story there and it’s never adequate enough to express the impact and import a soul had on your life.

That’s why I’m writing this blog and why I said in the beginning there is no larger point, no objective to my post – other than to express heartbreak and remember a dear friend. Death is weird. It comes in an almost unbearable cloak of pain that doesn’t ever really leave. And it also leaves behind a trail of beauty and gratitude and love.

On the day Jeff died, on the kissing bridge (the green one near Principal Park, for those who know Des Moines), my partner and I took a moment at sunset. We played the following song by Luke Bryant while looking out over the beauty of Des Moines. This is how I feel when I think about Jeff. Thank you for reading – and being with me. I will never be able to truly convey Jeff or what he meant to me and the so many people he touched. So…let’s sit right here…and drink a beer.

“When I got the news today
I didn't know what to say.
So I just hung up the phone.
I took a walk to clear my head,
This is where the walking lead
Can't believe you're really gone
Don't feel like going home

So I'm gonna sit right here
On the edge of this pier
Watch the sunset disappear
And drink a beer

Funny how the good ones go
Too soon, but the good lord knows
The reasons why it gets
Sometimes the greater plan is kinda hard to understand
Right now it don't make sense
I can't make it all make sense

So I'm gonna sit right here
On the edge of this pier
Watch the sunset disappear
And drink a beer

So long my friend, until we meet again
I'll remember you
And all the times we used to
Sit right here on the edge of this pier
Watch the sunset disappear
And drink a beer
Drink a beer, drink a beer.”

So long my friend. Until I see you again – you will always be in my heart.

Random Pandemic Thoughts

Hello, Everyone- It’s my first post since we restarted the Blog and instead of being excited, I feel like crying. I just do not feel like I have anything profound to say these days. I think part of my sadness stems from the fact that just a few months ago last December, I was hundo P excited to slough off the carnage of what was the year of 2019.  Sadly enough, this was the second year in a row where I looked back on the year and thought to myself, “Good riddance-don’t let the door hit you on the way out.” But after paying for all my bad Karma over two straight years, I was hopeful. I HAD to have paid my debts to mankind, I thought. So ultimately I believed  2020 was going to be an epic year - I was going to be living my best life. All of a sudden it’s almost May and I find myself feeling like I am further from living my best life than ever before. I can’t blame it all on the pandemic, but it did not help that my new favorite past time involves fast food and take out or that my kids are so needy I can’t seem to get farther than one block of a run in before they call me demanding my return.

But, I think what has really got me in a funk, is that I am exhausted from hearing all of the arguments for and against the shelter in place orders.  Listen, I am not an infectious disease expert. I am not a medical doctor either. I’m an attorney-a profession even my own father has made known he despises. So I have no authority in this arena admittedly. I can’t say that I understand COVID-19 from a biological perspective. But I’ve done my research and what I do understand, however, is numbers. 

Let’s start with the last pandemic-The swine flu also known as H1N1. I remember this time as it happened in 2009. I remember people wearing masks for a time, mostly in airports. I do remember hearing it on the news. But nothing like we are experiencing right now.  There are a couple of distinctions between the two viruses. H1N1 resulted in 12,469 deaths in the United States from April 2009 to April 2010. That stat is taken directly from the CDC website here: https://www.cdc.gov/flu/pandemic-resources/2009-h1n1-pandemic.html. The primary differences between COVID-19 and H1N1 were the death rate (COVID-19 had a higher estimated death rate) and it appeared that older people had some herd immunity built up since H1N1 was more deadly to young adults and children. Symptoms appeared in 1-4 days so the number of potential exposure before symptoms appeared was minimal. Similarly, the regular seasonal  flu is estimated to have killed 24,000 to 62,000 people in the United States during the 2019 -2020 flu season. Note the flu season spans 6 months from October 2019 to April 2020. This information also comes from the CDC. https://www.cdc.gov/flu/about/burden/preliminary-in-season-estimates.htm.  Again, the death rate for COVID-19 was estimated to be higher and medical researchers understand the flu and have a vaccine for the most common strains. Contrast this with COVID-19. The reason it is sometimes referred as being “novel,” is because no one had herd immunity to the virus as it was a virus that had not been seen before in the world. Stated differently, humans had no pre-existing defenses to the virus. In addition, people could not have symptoms for up to two weeks, thereby exposing three times the people to the virus as H1N1 before a carrier realized the need to self-quarantine. From the first identified case in the US through April 25, 2020, the CDC has reported 52,459 deaths caused by COVID-19. https://www.cdc.gov/coronavirus/2019-ncov/cases-updates/cases-in-us.html. The numbers from the CDC indicate it took H1N1 one year to kill 12,500 people in the US. It takes the regular flu six months to kill between 24,000 to 62,000 people in the US. COVID-19 has killed 52,459 people in two months. Those are the numbers that are reported.

As the COVID-19 deaths mount, people have begun to question these numbers. I don’t mind questioning things but I think it is important to understand what is implied when these stats are called into question. The primary theory I have heard postulated is the numbers are inflated. For this to be true, it would mean that (1) the CDC is manufacturing data; (2) doctors are misclassifying deaths or (3) the CDC provides guidance that errs on the side of over classifying the cause of death as being due to COVID-19. I have no way of disproving (1). I can say I have never heard people in the past accusing the CDC in this fashion. However, people will point out that it is an election year so perhaps the CDC is politically motivated. The problem with that is that the head of the CDC is appointed by the President. Yes, in March of 2018, President Trump appointed Dr. Robert Redfield as director of the CDC. I’m not sure why Dr. Redfield would bite the hand that feeds him but it is possible. However, if he was doing something President Trump disagreed with, I have no doubt the President would ask for his resignation. Without offering my opinion, I simply have no evidence to support that (1) is actually occurring.

With respect to (2)-that doctors are missclassifying deaths- for this theory to be true, it means that we should have been routinely questioning doctors’ opinions because they are either untrustworthy by choosing to promote a political agenda over the Hippocratic oath, or they are simply unintelligent. On two different occasions in my life, I can say I have strongly questioned a doctor’s determination about cause of death. Therefore, I think I have some credibility in questioning their abilities now because it is not the first time I have done so. But I truly do not think most people have ever thought twice about a doctor’s opinion regarding the cause of death and may not have ever seen a death certificate. Even so, I think people should know that they are implying an ethics violation or ignorance of medical professionals when this argument is raised. I don’t have a problem with this, I just want people to be clear about the implications and be comfortable with them if they are going to make this suggestion. I personally realize that the guy or gal who graduated last in their medical school program is still called Doctor. Point being, in general, I do not think Doctors are infallible by any means.  However, it does seem slightly illogical for physicians to inflate death counts. Hospitals are actually losing money because they cannot see patients or conduct elective surgeries. Physicians have been laid off. Why? Because a podiatrist cannot treat a COVID patient. His malpractice insurance likely would not cover activities out of his specialized area. Yes, as my dad pointed out, a podiatrist still went to medical school. However, that podiatrist may not have ever taken more than one class on infectious diseases and would not and should not treat a patient with severe respiratory failure. Without elective surgeries, that podiatrist may not currently be needed. And given the money hospitals are hemorrhaging, it makes sense that a hospital would not want to pay $600K/year to a doctor that has no patients to see at the moment. So while I think doctors can and do make many mistakes, I’m not sure I see an upside to their profession and employers by extending the pandemic unnecessarily.

Finally, that brings us to (3)-that the CDC guidance errs in over counting COVID-19 deaths. The CDC guidance is available for everyone to read here: https://www.cdc.gov/nchs/data/nvss/vsrg/vsrg03-508.pdf. In short, it is true that the guidance may tend to err on classifying a cause of death as being due to COVID-19 because it provides that if the certifier suspects COVID-19 or determines it was likely, they can report COVID-19 as “probable” or “presumed” in the death certificate.  However, it is important to understand that “probable” and “presumed” have a specific meaning wherein the circumstances must be compelling within a reasonable degree of certainty. There also needs to be a basic understanding of certain terms on a death certificate. Part I is where the doctor lists the Underlying Cause of Death (UCOD). Part II is where the doctor lists other underlying conditions that contributed to the death. According to the CDC guidance, medical examiners should list COVID-19 as the UCOD in instances wherein victims have had other conditions (hypertension or COPD, for example) which make them more susceptible to COVID-19 complications. This guidance appears to be fueling the concern that COVID-19 deaths are being inflated. The question, however, is NOT what guidance has the CDC provided because that is available for everyone to read. The real question is whether the CDC guidance departs from typical guidance on determining the UCOD-that would be what some might call evidence of a political motivation. Here is where having questioned a death certificate comes in handy.  As an asshole who has done that before (yes, I still plan to call myself an asshole in every blog I write as I used to do) I am familiar with the Physicians’ Handbook on Medical Certification of Death. You can access it here: https://www.cdc.gov/nchs/data/misc/hb_cod.pdf. I refer to pages 9-10 which discusses UCOD. It is defined as “the disease or injury that initiated the train of morbid events leading directly to death or the circumstances of the accident or violence that produced the fatal injury. On page 12 it also provides, “The cause-of-death information should be the physician’s best medical opinion. Report each disease, abnormality, injury, or poisoning that the physician believes adversely affected the decedent. A condition can be listed as ‘probable’ it is has not been definitively diagnosed.” The CDC’s guidance on COVID-19 does not appear to differ from standard published guidance. So going back to (3), if we have heartburn with this, the heartburn should extend beyond COVID-19. I am not saying the guidance should not be refined or injecting my opinion on this topic in general. However, my research does show the guidance from the CDC to be relatively consistent. Is it overclassifying the death count? I’ll leave that up to you to decide but if so, then the CDC is overestimating many other UCODs for different illnesses as well. Part of the reason for the inclination to over classify as opposed to under classify is because the numbers drive research money and from a public safety standpoint it is better to over estimate a threat than under estimate it. Again, I’m not saying this is right or wrong. You can decide that in your own. 

I have stated all of this research in a very pragmatic tone, with only calling myself a name during the process. However, in Facebook or even the news, I have seen people get ugly over their opinions. This is what has contributed to my sense of despair. People are repeating half-information in both sides based on the media’s spin of the situation. We are being ugly without realizing what we are truly implying and without even asking the right questions. I’m sad by how polarizing a deadly situation has become. We can disagree about how deadly-but people have died and will continue to die for some time-and I don’t think that is really debatable. The scope and magnitude, absolutely, but not the mere existence of the virus. Why have we not allowed this to bring us closer together? Or to have productive discussions regarding what might need to change in order to better capture numbers and causes of death? People can have opinions-however, I have seen some downright nasty exchanges simply because we don’t do our own research and instead, let the media manipulate us and play on our emotions. Don’t be a pawn of whatever media organization you support. To quote from the X-Files, the truth is out there. Go find it-we should all have the time since there is nothing else to do! Hope you enjoyed my return to the blog. I’ll try to not be so serious next time! Until then, Cheers!

Poopy Diapers and Silver Linings

We are on Day 37, THIRTY SEVEN, of being socially isolated. For the first couple of weeks with our daycare closed, it was just me working at home with the kids. Working at home for me was not your typical job – it involved standing up an Army National Guard Battalion for an activation. This was anything but easy. I would physically go in on the weekends and as much as I could while my mother-in-law could help with the kids. But the rest of the time involved me juggling conference calls with screaming kids, responding to emails and monitoring the situation with a kid or two on my lap, and texting furiously while putting the kids down for a nap or while getting them the exact right spoon, cup, and food item for a meal.

On one particular day, I had a conference call at 1pm, which I did while nursing Adeline and putting her down for her nap. Immediately after, I put LJ down and thought I would have a couple of hours in silence to catch up on emails before my next conference call at 3pm. Of course, that was wishful thinking. At around 2pm, I heard a loud bang and I thought that either Adeline had fallen out of her crib or that LJ had knocked over a book case or something in his room (he no longer naps but does quiet time and plays alone in his room). I raced upstairs into LJ’s room first to find that he was okay although he also said, “What was THAT NOISE?” I did not even answer him because I was still worried that Adeline had fallen out of her crib so I started down the hallway. Before I reached Adeline, I heard LJ yell, “Oh, Mama, it was a big truck!” I looked out the window and noticed a dump truck in the neighbors’ driveway that had dropped off dirt. The noise had been the tail gate slamming.

I was thankful that neither kid was hurt but also annoyed that I did not get time to work undisturbed that afternoon. After all the rushing around, I returned to all five of my senses and noticed it was actually quite putrid smelling. Although LJ has been potty trained since he was two, he had crapped in his pants. When I asked him why, he said it was because I didn’t come when he called me. Since he is now almost 4, I haven’t changed a poopy pants on him in forever and knew that I would just have to throw him into the tub. However, first, I had to attend to Adeline who was now in hysterics. Upon entering into her room, it was also rancid. She had also crapped while napping, though it was less disturbing because she is not yet potty trained. Knowing I had the other conference call at 3pm, I had to rush both of their smeared, poopy pants off and throw them into the tub. I finished cleaning them up on time and took my conference call with water from the tub still splashed all over me and two kids (at least they were clean) trying to type on my keyboard and take my ID card out of my computer. I simultaneously chuckled and cried inside thinking of how the other individuals that were also on both of the conference calls that day probably checked emails or developed PowerPoints in between. I was 99.9% sure that I was the only person that had to change two poopy diapers and throw two kids into the tub in a scramble in between those calls.

All this to say, this pandemic has not been easy for anyone. And yes, I fully realize that I am still very blessed and privileged and that people have it much more difficult than us right now.  Further, in my limited time, I am also reflecting and realizing that there are a lot of silver linings for us each and every day during this chaos. I have been keeping a mental note of all the small little things for which I am thankful that I have noticed my kids doing or that we have been able to do with them during this time. A couple of them are:

*Baking cookies and making way more crafts than I would have with the kids

*Seeing who can hear the owl first on our almost daily walks

*Walking by the neighbors’ daffodils and noticing how many are coming up. Talking about the difference between the daffodils and dandelions (which LJ sometimes calls buffalos and makes me laugh)

*Using the running stroller with the kids more regularly and while on a recent run when I was going up a hill, having LJ tell me, “Mama, you just have to keep trying.” This was in response to me telling him I was tired from the big hill. He then said, “Like when I am on my bike and I have to keep trying.”

*Witnessing LJ telling Adeline during a tantrum, “I know, it’s frustrating.” This one especially makes me proud because I am trying to raise them to acknowledge and express feelings.

*Talking at dinner each night asking everyone how their day was, what their favorite part was, and if there were any bad/sad parts. Last night LJ’s “bad” part of the day was that there was no snow. I think we are doing alright.

This is by no means to make us seem like a perfect family. I have had at least two breakdowns resulting in me crying in front of the kids, we have both yelled at them way more than we have before, Larry and I have argued more with each other, our house is a disaster, the laundry is piled up, and a couple of nights we have had sugary cereal for dinner. Larry and I are both anxious and although we both agree that we just want the kids to feel safe, I have worried if we are doing the “right” things with them during this time. I’ve questioned if we have let LJ watch too many movies and if I should be doing more “educational” things with him. However, today someone shared what follows after this paragraph below on social media and I felt relieved, hopeful, and happy. I hope reading my personal anecdote shared above may be something our readers can connect with and I hope reading what follows below may be a potential reframe for others. Keep believing that everyone is trying their best during this time and when you don’t know what to do, just do the next right thing whether that is changing a poopy diaper, throwing a kid in a tub, or making your next conference call. Love to all.


A Superintendent in Illinois shared the following:


“BUT WHAT IF…


What if instead of falling “behind”, this group of kids are ADVANCED because of this? Hear me out.

What if they have more empathy, they enjoy family connection, they can be more creative and entertain themselves, they love to read, they love to express themselves in writing?

What if they enjoy the simple things, like their own backyard and sitting near a window in the quiet?

What if they notice the birds and the dates the different flowers emerge, and the calming renewal of a gentle rain shower?

What if this generation are the ones to learn to cook, organize their space, do their laundry, and keep a well run home?

What if they learn to stretch a dollar and to live with less?

What if they learn to plan shopping trips and meals at home?

What if they learn the value of eating together as a family and finding the good to share in the delights of the everyday?

What if they learn to place great value on our teachers and educational professionals, librarians, public servants and the previously invisible essential support workers like truck drivers, grocers, cashiers, custodians, logistics, and health care workers and their supporting staff, just to name a few of the millions taking care of us right now while we are sheltered in place?

What if among these children, a great leader emerges who had the benefit of a slower pace and a simpler life to truly learn what matters in this life?

What if they are AHEAD?”

Good Grief! (And this Pandemic)

Hi Everyone. Dissident Daughter Anne here. I've worked in the grief field for over 6 years now; I'm a full-time bereavement counselor for UnityPoint Hospcie in Des Moines. 

Grief has been the entirety of my professional life; and now, I am inundated by grief as the entire world grieves the death, changes, and anxiety from COVID-19. I have to say that it is....familiar, intense, fascinating, and sorrowful to witness the world experience on a global level the phenomenon to which I have dedicated my life. I've noticed the usual signs in myself and others- the forgetfulness, apathy, appetite changes, temperament changes, etc. Our world is grieving, and slowly, we are naming and recognizing that it is grief that we experience.

I could discuss this collective grief experience from many different angles, but otday, I want to explore some of the cognitive structures we use to cope with it. I understand that we do whatever mental gymnastic we need to do in order to cope at the time; however, there are more fulfilling ways of acknowledging our realities and discovering ways to live with them. Sometimes the coping methods we utilize with ourselves AND with supporting others are shaming, dismissive, and ultimately, not sustainable. 

First, let's talk about some of the strategies that aren't particularly helpful:

1) Minimizing Pain
This happens when we downplay experiences of suffering. Some examples with the pandemic might be, “Well, Anne, just be grateful that you still have a job.” Or, “It could be worse. You could be living in New York City right now.”

Yes, technically, it can certainly always be worse. For every situation that someone describes as painful, we can always, always imagine one in which greater suffering is inflicted.  But here’s the thing. Pain is pain, and that feeling of hurt is REAL. And everyone has different experiences that cause them pain, and this is due to a variety of factors (context, life experience, triggers, temperament, etc). If someone is honestly struggling with some of the losses of the pandemic, it’s real loss, even if we are seemingly witnessing other people experiencing significant loss on a grander scale at the same time. It’s just not fair or helpful to compare pain, because it hurts, nonetheless. (For example, comparing the pain of missing prom to having a loved one die from COVID-19). Additionally, for many people, this is one of the first times in their lives that they are experiencing the phenomenon where the universe takes something precious from you and doesn’t give it back. This is incredibly jarring the first time we experience this as humans, and it’s what I refer to as our “losing our innocence moment.”

The other important wisdom to remember is that our pain always goes deeper than the initial item, per se. For example, if someone is bemoaning the fact that they no longer are able to go into the office for work, underneath that seemingly benign hindrance is a loss of security in routine. We have lost a sense of predictability in how the world is run, and that, my friends, is undeniably a significant loss. What may seem minor is usually quite monumental when you look at the underlying feelings it evokes.

2) Reframing and Pushing the Positive

This happens when we try to force ourselves or others to see the positive in a situation. Here are some phrases that I have heard recently, “Count your blessings. You are fortunate to be able to stay at home.” Or, I have also seen this, “This too shall pass.” Plus, let’s not forget this one, “Don’t worry. It’s in God’s hands.”

Okay, hear me clearly. Gratitude and reframing are both great and wonderful philosophies, and I’ll get to that more in a minute. However, we cannot be so eager to arrive at gratitude that we forget to name the very real losses and pain we have experienced.  When we try to push ourselves to gratitude, we are trying to skip over the uncomfortable feelings and thoughts that we are having. And this is a massive disservice to our selves because it denies us the opportunity to reflect on what hurt us and what scares us. And not only are we losing an opportunity for self-insight, but more importantly, we then lack the information to properly reconstruct our sense of selves and worldviews after loss because we are not even sure what it was that was broken in the first place. If I don’t spend time reflecting on the fact that my future dreams were the items that were destroyed by the pandemic, I’m not going to be intentional about recreating those when I’m in the mental space to do so. When we push others and ourselves to reframe/think positive before we are ready, it’s incredibly damaging because it misses this opportunity for reflection and more sustainable growth.

Moreover, the implicit assumption behind this push for positivity seems to be that gratitude can cancel out pain. If we have sophisticated enough reframing mechanisms, and if we think just enough positive thoughts, then we don’t have to sit with the dark realization that shitty things really do happen in the world. Sometimes, really devastating and terrible things happen in the world, and no, there isn’t some sort of preordained divine reason for them to happen. That’s not to say that humans and the divine cannot create beauty FROM the chaos, but it’s incredibly unsettling for us to have to realize that sometimes, really bad and dark stuff simply.just.happens because that’s how the world works. Don’t force yourself or others to jump to positivity or reframing simply because you are uncomfortable with pain and darkness.

Let me emphasize it again: Gratitude does not cancel out pain.

So, where does that leave us?

   1) Validate and Name

Well, first, for the love of God- validate your feelings and name your losses. When I teach my “Journey through Grief” class, I literally have the participants write down every single thing they have lost in addition to their loved one. When the participants first begin this exercise, they are a little dubious. It’s like I can see a thought bubble above their heads that says, “Well, duh, Anne. My loved one is dead, so that’s what I ‘lost.’” But then as I encourage them to think deeper, they start to realize that it isn’t merely that they lost the physical body of their loved one; they lost so much more than that. They lost future dreams…they lost companionship…they lost security…they lost faith…etc. You can keep going, and going, with the layers of loss.

So, for both yourself and others, think about what YOU have all lost in the pandemic. Loss of routine, loss of socialization, loss of faith in government, loss of physical activity, loss of sanity, etc. List these losses, name them, and freakin’ HONOR THEM by spending time with them. Because they are real, and they are difficult, even if “it can be worse,” and even if “there are silver linings in the midst of them.” Name your losses, validate your feelings, and be honest with their existence.

And when you hear someone else complain or state one of their losses, don’t immediately try to make it better for them. Simply say, “Yes, Phyllis. It really sucks that you can’t go to the office anymore. I know that you loved your lunch dates with your coworker Jackie.”

       2) Gratitude and Silver Linings
Remember how I went on that diatribe a couple of paragraphs ago about gratitude not cancelling out sadness? Well, I meant it, AND I also want to say that gratitude is important. What I want us to do with gratitude is to realize that it can coexist ALONGSIDE of loss. It doesn’t cancel out loss, and we cannot turn to it as a weapon to eliminate our sorrow. We can, however, uphold gratitude and let it live in all of its profundity alongside our grief.

       An exercise that I traditionally have clients do around Thanksgiving is that I have them draw a line down the middle of a piece of paper. And just like some other exercises, they wonder what it is that I have them doing and how it can be helpful. Nevertheless, I instruct them to write on the left hand side all of the losses that they have experienced with their loved one, and then on the right hand side, I have them list everything that fills them with gratitude.

       The idea behind the exercise is simple, and yet, it is one that most of us struggle with simultaneously upholding. And that idea is yet again that we can feel sadness/anger at the exact same time that we feel gratitude and appreciation. So, if you would humor me, I encourage you to do the same. Think about what you have all lost during the pandemic, and then, also think about everything that you appreciate.

       So, for me, one of the biggest losses that I’m acknowledging is that I can’t go to TGR, my gym. As you see in my “About Me,” TGR is my second home, and I’m desperately missing the people and activities there. And at the same time, an item on my gratitude list is that I’m finally able to run outside again. I wasn’t able to do this in the last year due to some inflammation issues, but just before the pandemic, a physical therapist was able to get me back on track. And if there was ever a time that I needed to be able to run, right now is definitely it.

       I feel significant loss at not being able to see my friends and pursue my hobbies, and at the exact same time, I also feel gratitude that I’m able to run outside again. Both of these items are true, and there does not have to be a relationship between the two. I don’t have to say, “I shouldn’t feel sad about TGR because I can run again.” I also don’t have to say, “The only way I could run again was to lose TGR.” As humans, we seem to be driven to find causal relationships, and often we do so because we want so badly to see the bad thing wiped away. We want to say that the bad thing was necessary for the good thing, or we want to say that we can’t feel sad about the bad thing because we have the good thing. But before I start to delve into matters of theodicy (future post!), let’s just say that a bad thing can exist on its own merit, and a good thing can coexist alongside it. Good certainly can come from bad, but the bad wasn’t necessarily needed for the good to happen. It’s simply that light is always, always able to find a way to shine through darkness.

       When you hear of someone else lamenting their situation from the pandemic, don’t rush them to gratitude. Don’t try to encourage them to think of everything they are grateful for as a means of attempting to cancel out their sadness. If they name something positive, you can help them name that as a blessing and share in their joy of having it with them, but don’t push them to go there when that’s not the space they are in.

       Anyhow, I know that this has turned into a lengthy blog post, and it’s because I’m so incredibly passionate about this topic. I have so many other posts that I want to write about with the pandemic (theodicy being one of them), and one of MY pieces of gratitude from all of this is that it is spurring a rejuvenation in intellectual and creative thought. (It sure isn’t inspiring an increase in personal hygiene.)

      Thanks, everyone, and until next time-

      Anne

Dear Self

Dear Self,

Tomorrow you will turn 27. Approximately six months ago you were lying awake in bed wondering what this day meant. It is not so much the actual number that makes you anxious, but rather the passing of time I suppose. The passing of time is a little bit unnerving because if time is passing for you, it also means that it is passing for others. You reflect on whether or not you've spent that time spending it with the people you love and doing the things that make you feel most alive. You then wonder, "Do I even truly know what makes me come alive?"

This was 26- Birthday on the Vegas strip, in the clubs and at a pool party!

People say that your birthdays become less significant after the ages of "21" and "25," but I have found that to be uncredible. I feel each year you have slowly learnt a little bit more about yourself, about other people. You've spent a lot of time questioning what it means to be "normal." What a "normal" woman? What's a "normal" twenty something year old doing and striving for? What's a "normal" relationship. What's "normal" for someone like me? You've felt self conscious about where you fit in within the standard. Truth is, you've been asking yourself all the wrong questions, Kristen. This year, spend your time wondering, "What makes Kristen Alesch feel alive" and go fucking do it.

You feel most alive when you feel small. When you are surrounded by beauty and greatness in every shape, feeling and essence of the words. You feel alive when you are in nature. Go climb more mountains. You feel alive when you are surrounded by those you love. Go, and be more often. You feel alive when you are challenged. Embrace those experiences and people that make you feel so. You feel alive when you are in front of an audience. Perform in front of a group of two, or 20.

You've been working on your ability to be vulnerable, when it counts. I hope you continue to try and look vulnerability in the eye and feel every bittersweet emotion that comes with it. I encourage you to continue to build connection and figure out what to be truly connected means. I want you to experience great joy and great sadness, and I hope you feel the two sentiments with every fiber of your being. I hope you find the voice and ambition of the little girl that once said she wanted to be an actress in Maine. I hope you reconnect with her, see what she's been up to and then go with her. I hope amazing people continue to enter your life and teach you many things. Some will leave while others will stay, and that's okay. Allow yourself to teach them something and learn something from them in return, and be better from it.

Be okay with the uncertainty of life and quit trying to find answers that may not yet be ready to be found. They'll come to you when both they and you are ready. Continue to love your freakin' heart out. You can never have too much of it. Continue to know you are worthy. Worthy of love, opportunity and life. Never question the gifts you have to offer; you have oh so many, Kristen. You are truly an amazing woman. Each day you love and know yourself a little more. Continue to sit with the silence and your thoughts and question what this life means. You won't ever fully figure it out, but maybe you'll learn a little more about yourself and human life in the process.

Dream, and continue dreaming, even when your dreams seem a little too distant. Remember where you come from and keep your eyes on where you're going. Admit when you fail without immediate justification and admit when you make a mistake, damnit. It's okay to apologize and feel the awkwardness. Ask questions but don't forget to reveal a little bit about yourself too. You have a lot to contribute to a conversation and person. Play, laugh and be silly. Never lose that part of yourself. Tell those you love that you love them without always knowing whether or not the feeling is reciprocated, and quit hiding behind the characteristics that simultaneously make you you, yet also prohibit others from truly seeing you.

This is almost 27- Walking home from my morning walk.
I stopped at my favorite coffee shop on the way back.
These morning walks bring me peace during this pandemic.
If you look closely, you can see that I have a few fine lines underneath my eye balls.
Can't believe I'm saying this, but I think they're beautiful; I'm beautiful.

May this year be a year of love, opportunity and life. Reflect often and allow yourself to feel. Travel, save and travel some more. Feel small, but never make yourself be small. Embrace womanhood and feel beautiful doing so. Wear a dress or wear athletic apparel; both are beautiful and womanly. Learn and get to know yourself a little bit better than the year before, and keep defining what makes Kristen Alesch come alive. Don't chase it, go do it. Lastly, trust the universe, trust your soul and be genuine.

Xoxo,
Kristen