W
hile all the arenas
of
our
lives
have
undergone
tremendous change in these last
few weeks as many
of us were forced to
pack up and head
home from school,
it’s imperative that
we
check
in
on
the
communities
impacted most by
the
coronavirus.
While
quarantine
and
stay-in-place
orders may provide
exciting or relaxing family
time for some, many in the
LGBTQ+
community
are
faced
with
difficult
home
situations. In a community
plagued by ostracization and
disproportionately high levels
of
mental
illness,
isolation
can be particularly lonely and
damaging as many of us have
established new identities and
support systems away from
home.
It’s
easy
to
sink
into
depressive episodes or feel
unsupported in isolation as
the
quick
departure
from
campus and a lack of stability
in educational routines has
left
many
without
closure.
While sitting in bed all day and
watching lectures or streaming
services seems to be the new
norm, it’s important to ensure
those in your support system
and friend groups are still
connected
and
functioning.
Many
of
the
symptoms
associated with depression and
depressive episodes consist of
feelings of hopelessness, loss of
interest in activities, irregular
eating patterns and persistence
of empty moods, all of which can
be compounded by the current
pandemic and isolation. All of
these feelings and symptoms
are all too familiar for LGBTQ+
individuals, 80 percent of whom
reported feelings of depression
in the last week.
Only one in four LGBTQ+
youth identify having families
that support them at home, while
78 percent cited not being out
to their families due to negative
comments surrounding their
identities. In a quarantined
environment,
LGBTQ+
individuals will likely find
unsupportive family systems
that can exacerbate feelings
of
isolation
and
loneliness.
Many
in
our
community
find
alternative
homes
when
they
move out for the
first time and can
pursue new avenues
to
express
their
identity.
Coming
home
to
histories
of
unsupportive
communities
or
family systems can be
extremely
difficult
for LGBTQ+ individuals, and
we rely on those in our support
systems,
schools
or
social
circles to uplift us in times of
isolation and discrimination.
The presence of depression
and
mental
illness
in
the
LGBTQ+
community
is
all
too common due to stigma
and discrimination, in both
youth and adult individuals.
31.5 percent of LGBTQ+ youth
cited being so hopeless or sad
they had stopped doing their
usual activities, which can
translate into our current day-
to-day uncertainties about the
COVID-19
pandemic.
With
higher rates of mental illness,
suicide
and
homelessness
than the general population,
the LGBTQ+ community is
uniquely at risk in times of
separation like these. Further,
the LGBTQ+ community is far
too familiar with stigmatization
and isolation in public health
emergencies — as we saw in the
HIV/AIDS epidemic.
Throughout
the
HIV/
AIDS epidemic, the federal
government
largely
ignored
the
LGBTQ+
community,
resulting
in
massive
losses
and distrust in many of the
institutions
intended
to
protect those at risk. With
an abysmal past in epidemic
conditions,
coupled
with
the current administration’s
war on LGBTQ+ rights, the
community can tend to feel lost
and reluctant to reach out for
support from institutions and
support groups.
In response to struggles at
home and stigmas surrounding
our identities, many LGBTQ+
individuals move to create
“chosen families.” The “chosen
family” stems from ballroom
culture in New York City but
has taken on a new form for
many
LGBTQ+
individuals.
A chosen family serves as a
support system separate from
the biological family or home.
Many
LGBTQ+-identifying
individuals
find
themselves
creating a family in college
when they are away and able
to build a system that supports
them and allows them to
explore their identities in a
loving
environment.
These
chosen
families
stand
in
for
the
reinforcement
and
direction that many lack at
home but, with online courses
and mandates to return home,
many have found themselves
separated from their families.
Many LGBTQ+ individuals
rely on their support systems
and chosen families for support
in times of uncertainty, so reach
out to your LGBTQ+ friends and
family. With so many symptoms
masking themselves in status-
quo quarantine behavior, go out
of your way to FaceTime and
check in with your friends who
might not have support systems
outside of those at school or
in their chosen communities.
The
same
goes
for
other
at-risk
communities
and
those without the resources
necessary to maintain a healthy
mindset in times of chaos and
uncertainty. It is imperative we
support our LGBTQ+ family,
especially as we find ourselves
in uncomfortable environments
without the institutional or
societal support that those with
mainstream identities benefit
T
he views at the top were
certainly beautiful — the blue
of Lake Michigan stretching
out
forever.
However,
nothing
compared to what was at the bottom
of the hill, which took my breath away.
Windows shattered, paint peeling, roof
caving in, doors flung open to rooms
with mattresses torn apart and water
dripping. I was looking at what used
to be the most popular ski destination
in the Midwest — Sugarloaf Mountain.
When the resort was at its prime it
attracted up to 4,000 skiers a day. This
past Wednesday, 20 years after its
closure, I was the only one there.
Within the resort, the atmosphere
only became more apocalyptic. It felt
like an ideal setting for a horror movie.
There was one picture hanging on the
wall that hadn’t been broken. The date
on the bottom of the frame read 1972.
The picture was of what looked like
an après-ski party — the outdoor patio
crowded with people in multicolored
retro snowsuits, laughing and holding
drinks. I then looked out at what was
left of the back patio, all of the chairs
broken and the wood deck rotting. It
felt surreal to see the photo of how
vibrant this place used to be and
compare that to the lifeless scene in
front of me.
The eeriness of this abandoned
resort gave me the same chills I felt
scrolling through photos by The New
York Times of deserted places around
the world during this pandemic. The
photos included the Eiffel Tower,
Times Square, the streets of Rome and
the Sydney Opera House — emptiness
spreading globally like the virus. This
is a virus that does not recognize
borders. Across the world, the most
popular destinations are completely
abandoned. There are public spaces,
places built for humans, but no
humans.
The
desolation
is
evident
on
campus. On March 10, I was weaving
around other students, trying to make
it on time to my morning lecture. Two
weeks later, the only signs of life on
the Diag are the squirrels fighting
over nuts, a sight all too reminiscent
of the shoppers I witnessed at Meijer
bickering over the last rolls of toilet
paper. Our lives changed abruptly
with no indication of when things will
get better.
COVID-19
has
rightfully
been
the only thing in the news recently.
I’ve heard “stay six feet apart” and
“wash your hands” hundreds of times.
We are reshaping our lives around
this virus. It feels as though this
is only the beginning of a timeless,
emotional, medical pandemic and
financial recession.
We
are
currently
a
part
of
something that will be known as an
infamous historical event. Twenty
years from now, previously lively
spaces like Sugarloaf in the 1970s,
could look very different. As a result
of the coronavirus, jobs will be lost,
businesses will close, buildings will
be boarded up and places will be
abandoned.
The eeriness of abandonment is
already evident in airports, national
parks, subways, wedding venues,
concert
halls,
schools,
churches,
travel destinations, stadiums, etc.
What is the cost of these places being
closed? The source of income that
previously circulated through these
places is all of a sudden inaccessible,
cooped up in their homes under
“shelter in place” orders.
Realistically, if businesses cannot
innovate and reinvent themselves
virtually many may not survive.
Wuhan, China, where the virus first
emerged, has been in lockdown for
almost two months. Many businesses
in the United States could have to
endure two months without income.
It is hard to believe that the economy
is “going to all bounce back and it’s
going to bounce back very big,” as
President
Donald
Trump
claims,
when so many people are risking
unemployment.
Within this pandemic we can still
find hope. The emptiness around the
world does not instill eeriness alone.
There are hints of aspiration and
realization. Aspirations for things
we often took for granted, like social
connection. When you are restricted
to FaceTime, the value of in-person
conversation becomes evident. There
is also a realization that places are
only worth the people in them. Many
of the currently abandoned spaces
around the world have beauty in
themselves, but the actual beauty is
the presence of others within these
spaces.
For right now we can empathize,
accept and look ahead. Empathize
with those most vulnerable during
this pandemic, accept that things are
not going to be normal and look ahead
to when places will be full of people,
instead of abandoned.
4 — Monday, March 30, 2020
Opinion
The Michigan Daily — michigandaily.com
Alanna Berger
Zack Blumberg
Brittany Bowman
Emily Considine
Jess D’Agostino
Jenny Gurung
Cheryn Hong
Krystal Hur
Ethan Kessler
Zoe Phillips
Mary Rolfes
Michael Russo
Timothy Spurlin
Miles Stephenson
Joel Weiner
Erin White
ERIN WHITE
Managing Editor
Stanford Lipsey Student Publications Building
420 Maynard St.
Ann Arbor, MI 48109
tothedaily@michigandaily.com
Edited and managed by students at the University of Michigan since 1890.
ELIZABETH LAWRENCE
Editor in Chief
EMILY CONSIDINE AND
MILES STEPHENSON
Editorial Page Editors
Unsigned editorials reflect the official position of The Daily’s Editorial Board.
All other signed articles and illustrations represent solely the views of their authors.
EDITORIAL BOARD MEMBERS
EMILY ULRICH | COLUMN
Abandoning life as we know it
Check up on your LGBTQ+ friends during the COVID-19 crisis
OWEN STECCO | COLUMN
Emily Ulrich can be reached at
emulrich@umich.edu.
Owen Stecco can be reached at
ostecco@umich.edu.
CONTRIBUTE TO THE CONVERSATION
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Send the writer’s full name and University affiliation to
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OWEN
STECCO
Coming home
to histories of
unsupportive
communities or
family systems
can be extremely
difficult.
SUBMIT TO SURVIVORS SPEAK
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