The following column is the opinion and analysis of the writers:
Last month I took the opportunity to enjoy the blazing summer sun in my front yard sitting masked and socially distanced in the Rillito Bend Neighborhood. From my front yard, I have a panoramic view of Cactus Boulevard, a bustling thoroughfare with bicyclists, pedestrians, runners, dog walkers and horseback riders. I noticed the countless passersby unmasked and not adhering to social distancing guidelines. Some coughed and sneezed into the open air with others nearby. Others smiled at me with defiance.
As the United States reached 200,000 deaths this past weekend due to COVID-19, this spectacle of nonadherence and denial of the extremely contagious virus is both disheartening and disappointing.
Since the World Health Organization declared the novel coronavirus disease COVID-19, a pandemic on March 11, I have been personally impacted. My great-aunt died in a group home because of complications from COVID-19, my healthy godparents in their 50s became severely ill after contracting it from my younger cousin β a health-care worker, and colleagues and neighbors of mine lost their parents, who were in their 60s and 70s. Regardless of the continuous differentiation of who is truly impacted by the virus, anyoneβs exposure to the virus can literally hurt or kill an unsuspecting person in their life.
It is baffling to me that so many deaths later, some people still believe COVID-19 is a hoax, while others think that exercising vigilance is overreacting. Some argue that following the recommended safeguards interferes with their personal civil liberties β that βwe canβt stop living our livesβ and βwe canβt let the virus control us.β What they fail to reckon with is that these personal sacrifices are necessary, urgent and temporary. This pandemic will end, and we will either be glad we were as safe as possible, or we will have massive regrets about being too relaxed, with irreversible and traumatic consequences.
As a natural extrovert, I wish I could be around the people I love β hug my family members, go to a concert with friends, or grab a drink with neighbors. However, I know that this moment is not about me. Having worked in health care extensively with Tucsonans who have preexisting conditions and/or who are over the age of 65, I know firsthand how detrimental exposure to the virus is to their survival.
Historically in times like these, fellow Americans would have shown great consideration for their neighbor, their elderly parent, the clerk at the grocery store. Fellow Americans would have seen others suffering and lent a helping hand or at least showed concern. This flagrant disregard of following safety protocols for the greater good of society is not who we are. We are not selfish nor ignorant to the facts. There should not be multiple realities in our response to COVID-19, there should be a resounding one response to stop this virus from killing us.
All Tucsonans should be taking steps to prevent contracting and spreading COVID-19 to protect themselves, their loved ones, community members, and people who are at increased risk of severe illness. With much that is still uncertain about the rest of 2020, we already know how human action can shape public health and societal outcomes. This pandemic has already been absolutely devastating, as we live with loss after loss. Grief is a familiar friend to many of us.
We must understand what this collective trauma is doing to us β let us respond to it together and protect one another. This virus has placed a magnifying glass on our American values and beliefs, which are manifested in our daily acts. It allows us to understand and process what personal sacrifice means for collective public health and safety.
We know that there is clear evidence of aerosol transmission of COVID-19, and that wearing a mask and social distancing are some of the most loving, kind and scientific things we can do right now. I look forward to the day when safe therapeutics and vaccines exist to reduce morbidity and mortality, but for now, I will sit in my front yard and wait with hope for our collective behavior to change.
