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

Readers are encouraged to submit letters to the 

editor and op-eds. Letters should be fewer than 300 
words while op-eds should be 550 to 850 words. 

Send the writer’s full name and University affiliation to 

tothedaily@michigandaily.com.

OWEN
STECCO

Coming home 
to histories of 
unsupportive 
communities or 
family systems 
can be extremely 

difficult.

SUBMIT TO SURVIVORS SPEAK

The Opinion section has created a space in The 
Michigan Daily for first-person accounts of sexual 

assault and its corresponding personal, academic and 

legal implications. Submission information can be 
found at https://tinyurl.com/survivorsspeak2020.

