Our lockdown
For Digital Takeover Day, we’ve granted collections volunteer Abbie access to the COVID-19 Diary Project. Here are her thoughts on lockdown so far…
Recently Dr Jenner’s House had the brilliant idea of asking people to keep a diary of their thoughts and experiences during this COVID-19 pandemic in order to create a bank of records for future researchers. Historians can piece together valuable information about epidemics through the lens of those who were living through it at the time. At the museum we are lucky to have so many resources, including letters and journals that allow us to paint a picture of the life of Dr Edward Jenner and his pioneering breakthroughs.
As part of Digital Takeover Day, I have been granted access to the COVID-19 Diary Project entries and I thought I would write a post to talk about what I found, what the general feelings were towards this unusual time, and how people’s lives have been impacted. It was so interesting to be able to get an insight into what life has been like since the world was turned upside down by COVID-19.
There was a novelty in the starting up of Zoom meetings and introducing relatives to the world of technology in order to be able to contact friends and family during this time
The first thing I noted when looking through some of the earlier entries were how quickly everyone’s lives were shifted once lockdown was announced; with some changes blending in seamlessly and others less so, there were two standout feelings – relief and anxiety. GCSEs were being cancelled, schools were closing, and plans were being crossed out in calendars as the UK prepared to go into a lockdown for the foreseeable future. There was a novelty in the starting up of Zoom meetings and introducing relatives to the world of technology in order to be able to contact friends and family during this time, it almost seemed like a welcome change as described by one writer: “the first morning I went into my garden, how quiet it was, how blue the sky was, how green the buds on the trees were. The world didn’t need humans to be beautiful, we were being given a wakeup call, would we listen?” There were a wide range of immediate impacts: from the museum itself not being able to open as usual and volunteers attending their much loved work, to me myself having to cut travelling 5 weeks short and navigate flying halfway across the world in order to get home before March 23rd. Feeling far removed from the anxiety of the virus, landing back in the chaos and panic of the UK was quite a shock; data and figures were flying about all over the place in a desperate attempt to rationalize the exponential deaths. A few writers touched on the lives of people they know that have been lost due to COVID-19, how it now feels so close to home yet so unnatural to then have to attend a funeral by a video link. Times were changing and there was a general consensus of uncertainty from the entries with many valuable questions being asked. How will others manage? How long can I keep myself occupied? Will I be one to not survive the pandemic?
I went through each diary entry with a fine-tooth comb and thought it would be nice to share some general thoughts and experiences that people have been having during quarantine, virus related or not. I realised that a lot of people are finding similarities to this pandemic in literature and in history, likening the current situation to VE Day or WW2 yet with the killer being invisible this time – so is it really true that history repeats itself? Another writer found a summary of the 1666 plague taken from Samuel Pepys’ Diary and noted some uncanny similarities, stating that London took around 18 months to get back to normal. Some more general thoughts that people had included: appreciating our elderly citizens who although out of sight are still contributing to society, that in fact home can be a lovely place to be, the pink clouds that skim a clear spring night, that routine is actually quite important, that March seems unseasonably hot like so many other things that feel out of place. Yet one thought that I seemed to read over and over again was the overarching feeling of suspense, that the “air feels thick with waiting like an imminent storm is coming”. One writer noted that “Words like Lockdown, R0, pandemic etc. were the stuff of B list disaster movies, but entered every day conversations”. As well as “an angry edge appeared to be forming, it didn’t feel safe to be outdoors anymore. People stopped looking each other in the eye, as if by not seeing someone, they weren’t there and then they couldn’t transmit this horrible disease to you”. I think people, myself included, started to see the pandemic as a populist nightmare and a dystopian novel waiting to be written when we started going out for our state approved form of exercise or having to convince the person on the checkout that one carton of milk was in fact for the neighbour. What was really interesting to note was that it is as if the roles have been reversed, those now essential to the fights against COVID-19 were once people considered as ordinary or average in every single way whilst others of power, money and glory have been brought to their knees. The clap for key workers and the NHS was a lovely way to connect with neighbours and the camaraderie of appreciation for something so valued was great for the community spirit. Yet still there’s a feeling of distance but also silent unity between everyone as I find myself walking home from the shop, hearing people out in their gardens, and sometimes also from my window in the evenings. But I never see them.
There seemed to be a wavering progression of moods as we reach our third month of lockdown. People began to start having virus-related dreams, social distancing becoming rooted in our subconscious, alongside feelings of anxiety over what lockdown may bring. It seemed as though some were grateful to still be working which provided a welcome distraction, whilst for others with less routine, the week became a bit of a blur – I know that I myself found a way to feel overwhelmed at the tasks that in normal life would’ve seemed like nothing. I think one thing everyone will be able to relate to from what I read was the notion that our moods seem to have become a lot more turbulent. A lot of people recorded feeling angry over things they normally wouldn’t or find themselves hitting that afternoon brick wall where you would literally… end up staring at the wall. Writers recorded feelings of happy contentment but then a deep foreboding realisation of living through world changing horrors and the instantaneous changing of the calmness of breathing space, but then perpetual sadness. Sleep patterns seemed to start getting disrupted whilst dreams revealed the psyche hard at work, trying to understand something that wasn’t fully comprehended in the day. One writer interrupted their entry with “I’m totally aware that this entry isn’t making a whole lot of sense and that’s in keeping with the state of the world”, which I thought was very apt, I think people are starting to get fed up, fed up of living life digitally, of going so long without speaking to someone that you forget the sound of your own voice. A feeling that I read from one writer that I think many of us would be too embarrassed to admit, was that loss of empathy, the detachment from what is going on. When someone breaks a piece of bad news whatever it may be, that all you can do is acknowledge it and not feel much more than that – you feel guilty that you know you should be feeling sad or concerned but that nothing else comes out. I think it’s important to recognise that these are okay and normal to feel, COVID-19 is a strange time and one that not many of us will have experienced before, so navigating through it is going to be confusing and unsettling at times.
People seem to be slowing down in our crazy consumerist world to appreciate the blue skies and the birds singing
Now I could talk about all the negatives that have resulted from this pandemic as with much sadness there are rather a lot, but I think we are all bombarded with those on a daily basis, so I thought it may be nice to share some of the positives that have come about. People now have more time for hobbies; one writer explained how they’d really delved into their family history and managed to find old family records, whilst another signed up for the NHS volunteering programme and provided some company for a 90 year old lady who otherwise had little interaction with others. Social media, although arguably negative, has allowed families and communities to come together, news to reach wider circles and for important causes to not get lost in the storm of COVID-19. It’s been lovely to read about new skills people have developed during this time such as growing your own vegetables, learning a new language and perfecting the art of a lockdown haircut. There has been more appreciation for others, with some writers providing thousands of meals for more vulnerable citizens and the simplicity of still being able to bring some normality and light to people’s lives through radio stations and choir singing. The outdated practice of letter writing has made a reappearance, injecting fleeting moments of romance and hope; and there were countless mentions of the importance of nature. People seem to be slowing down in our crazy consumerist world to appreciate the blue skies and the birds singing, and there is hope that post-pandemic people will still carry on to care in the same way.
Things have been changing in our world, some good, some bad but I think from reading these diary entries, it’s clear to see that so far this has been a very humbling experience. At the time of writing, we have currently moved down to level 3 of lockdown so we are beginning to see a tiny glimmer of the light at the end of the tunnel and are left with the question, what will another year bring? The diary project has been an amazing insight into the experiences, both the mundane and profound of those living during lockdown, and I’d like to end with a short poem written by a contributor to this project:
“I looked up at the sky last week
Instead of looking down
There I saw a face appear
With a smile and not a frown
An aeronautical creation
Ephemeral and benign
Maybe things are looking up
Perhaps this is a sign?”