The changes the epidemic has made to how people relate to each other have finely penetrated our days and nights (Illustration Fan Wei)
What are the long-lasting effects an epidemic can have on us? It could drive reforms in public **** health systems, improvements in social governance systems, or it could profoundly change the global economic climate. There's another impact that isn't as grand and intuitive, but which has permeated our days and nights in a subtle way, and that's the way an epidemic changes the way people relate to each other.
We have heard many stories in the past two months or so. After civil affairs bureaus across the country resumed accepting marriage and divorce registrations one by one, from Xi'an to Guangzhou, from metropolises like Shanghai to small cities like Dazhou in Sichuan province, you could see news of divorce appointments filling up and a sharp year-on-year increase in the divorce rate. On social networks, people are lamenting the fact that living habits, entertainment aesthetics, worldviews, values, and all-around disobedience between the two generations to each other. There was also some bad news outside the family. During the epidemic, some people were forced to live on the streets because of evictions and reports, and some built walls between their neighbors. As the outbreak subsided in the country, incidents of discrimination against recovering patients from New Crown began to appear in the press. These trivial, oppressive, one-dimensional daily routines will be a reality we will have to face for a long time.
How to make sense of these phenomena? A typically stressful event like an epidemic puts us in a collective state of stress. Stress permeates and expresses itself in various forms, affecting every aspect of daily life. First and foremost are our family relationships. We are forced to accept a long vacation and isolation packs us and our families under one space 24/7. Suddenly, we lose our jobs, our socialization, and only our family roles are dramatically amplified. For many, this was an unprecedented experience. At the same time, the pandemic has shattered the daily routine of the individual and the family: whereas once a neighbor was just a house number, now the maintenance and functioning of your life may be linked to the community, and your neighbor's whereabouts and health are directly related to your safety and well-being.
More fundamentally, the pandemic has forced each of us to face the weighty topic of the finiteness of life, and has made us face the fundamental anxiety and fear of death, which is the most fundamental part of being human, and has forced us to take action.
Is human emotion and connection incapable of withstanding catastrophe? The truth is not always pessimistic. We have documented the emotional experiences of many individuals during the outbreak: estranged fathers and daughters dramatically reconnecting with each other after nearly 20 years of slowing down; mothers and daughters whose relationships had been "strained to the breaking point" suddenly seeing each other's real needs and concerns and trying to get along in ways they never had before. In some communities, some people scramble for supplies, some people want to take advantage of the opportunity to make a profit from their neighbors, but there are also people who embrace the warmth of the group, help each other, and help each other in the same boat. When we bemoan the cowardice and selfishness of human nature, we shouldn't forget that human nature is far more complex and powerful than we think. According to existential psychology, it is beneficial to remain aware of death, which allows us to "live a truly worthwhile life, full of compassion for others and love for everything around us." "How do you really want to live?" "How else do you want to live?" The epidemic has brought about these soul-searching questions that would otherwise take place in a counseling room, or at certain moments in life.
In the interview, I asked Zhang Ya, an associate professor at the School of Psychology and Cognitive Science at East China Normal University, how we can overcome the fear of death, given its impact. "Fear is never overcome," Zhang Ya said, "one can only live with this fear, live more fully, live out your meaning and value, live out your joys and tears."
During the epidemic, Wu Shangzhe, a 26-year-old girl from Wuhan, got a new name -- "the girl who went to Vulcan Mountain to be with her grandmother". In the "square cabin" hospital, Wu Shangzhe received a phone call from her mother. Mom said that her grandmother was in a bad condition in Vulcan Mountain Hospital, and the doctor said that if she had a family member to accompany her, she might have a chance, but only diagnosed patients could enter Vulcan Mountain, and neither her mother nor her father were qualified. "I'll go!" Wu Shangzhe did not hesitate. She was once "very utilitarian" that the use of young life to save an old man, "so not cost-effective", but this question is really in front of her, she understands, "there is no measure of affection, there is no worth it! ".
On the Internet, many people feel that Wu Shangzhe is brave, strong and optimistic. On the day of her diagnosis, she announced her diagnosis in her circle of friends, with a picture of herself in her past swimsuit. Most of her records are heartwarming, touching and funny things between doctors, nurses and patients, such as the woman in the next bed who mended her gown, and the doctors and nurses with whom she posed for pictures, teasing them that they looked like Teletubbies in their protective suits.
But Wu told me she didn't think she was strong, and that she was afraid, and that she lost sleep at home on Feb. 10, crying as she envisioned that she would lose all her family. On the day she went to Vulcan, she did everything she could to protect herself for fear of being infected by other viruses and bacteria. "Wear a hat and cover up wherever you can. There were no extra gloves, so I scrunched my hands in my sleeves. If there was a spot of broken skin on your face, you put on a layer of toothpaste."
At Vulcan Mountain, she accompanied her grandmother through the final stages of her life, witnessing and sharing her fears and insecurities.
On the last night of February, her grandmother suddenly lost her eyesight and kept crying and shaking her head. Wu Shangzhe climbed into her bed, curled up with her and held her hand. Grandma rubbed her thumb against her finger repeatedly. Grandma's death came at 3 a.m. on March 6, and Oh Sang-cheol stayed in the hospital hallway to break down alone. "I felt alone in that moment, as if there was no one around me, an empty space."
In fact, in the "square cabin," Wu Shangzhe hears people crying every day. "Everyone is sick and has a torn family behind them." She handed tissues to a crying mother whose husband was also in isolation and whose 7-year-old child was left unattended, and several patients sat down with ideas to comfort her. The next bed lived in a deteriorating sister, the first day the two people are still in a heart-to-heart chat, the next morning Wu Shangzhe opened her eyes, there is already an empty bed. But she was filming the "square dance", and the people in the camera were very happy. She was crying while filming, "This group of people who have experienced so much grief, and still dance so positively."
Wu Shangzhe didn't realize that many writers had contacted her after she came out of Vulcan Mountain, wanting to write her story. Some high school students left messages online saying they wanted to be like her. What makes Wu Shangzhe's story so moving? Is it just about filial piety, or optimism?
I think that in the midst of an epidemic, we are all victims, no matter where we are or whether we are in close combat with the disease. In the face of death, we are forced into isolation, forced to press the pause button on our lives, and faced with great uncertainty, everything seems to be out of our control. This is our **** same situation. What Wu Shangzhe sees, hears, experiences and records reminds us that no matter how fear and pain rage, people can still hold on to and sublimate those emotions we cherish, and can still reach out to each other in times of trouble, which is precisely our most powerful counterattack. This kind of fightback can happen in every ordinary person and ordinary home. As Romain Rolland said, there is only one kind of heroism in the world, which is to see the truth of life, but still love life.