Because of the coronavirus pandemic, the weeks ahead will be difficult for all and unimaginable for some. But amid the hardship and heartbreak, there is reason for hope.
Alexis de Tocqueville hailed the strength of America’s communities as a hallmark of our exceptionalism. Two centuries later, we live in one of the most politically fractured times in recent history. Globalization, the rise of social media as the new town square, and pervasive ideological division have caused some in recent years to question whether the traits that once defined American communities of all types still exist. We’d begun to believe that we were merely a collection of self-absorbed individuals, “bowling alone” in geographic proximity to one another. And while some of those critiques may have resonance, the public’s response to the coronavirus pandemic over the past several days is evidence that the demise of the American community may have been vastly overstated.
The reactions of both individuals and institutions alike to the coronavirus threat have communicated a subtle but powerful message that shouldn’t be overlooked: Protecting the elderly, vulnerable, and adversity-stricken members of our communities is worth the sacrifice. The coronavirus can be lethal for the first two categories of our fellow citizens, and its secondary effects will impose a crushing economic burden upon the third. If we truly lived in a society of “individual bowlers,” one would expect most people to ignore the plight of those in adjacent lanes and focus solely on protecting their own win-loss records. But that hasn’t happened.
As Deborah Birx stated so articulately at Monday’s White House briefing, “We’re protecting the greatest generation and the children of the greatest generation.”
Across the country, in big cities, small towns, and the suburban sprawl in between, ordinary people have mobilized to help those affected by this crisis.
A professional runner in Oregon bought groceries for an elderly couple who were terrified to leave the grocery store parking lot and expose themselves to the virus. A local steakhouse in Washington, D.C., crowdsourced the addresses of homebound seniors on social media and delivered dozens of free meals to those in need. More than 400 “Texans helping Texans” signed up to coordinate grocery deliveries for seniors and those with preexisting conditions. Two teachers in Virginia launched a GoFundMe to feed low-income students who could no longer rely on free school lunches after the state’s public school system closed. New Orleans Hornets star Zion Williamson, all of 19 years old, stepped up to cover the salaries of game day employees after the NBA suspended its season.
Social media is awash with crowdfunding campaigns for bartenders whose wages dried up due to government-mandated closures or reminders to buy gift cards to affected businesses and tip extra to support hourly workers who are trying to cover 100% of their usual expenses while serving only 30% of their normal clientele. A patron forced to cancel an event in Houston called the owner and told him: “We know you guys are hurting, we want to help. Here’s a $10,000 deposit for next year’s event. We want you to make it.” These examples are barely a sliver of those reported by news outlets, and there are countless others happening around the nation that will play out far from the public eye.
Yes, we have also witnessed people crowding bars and spring break destinations with no regard for the hazards their actions pose to others, but no community is free of idiots. They are not representative of our response to the crisis — or, at the very least, they don’t have to be. Selfless behavior is contagious. We should highlight and applaud the sacrifices of our friends and neighbors and encourage others to follow their example. If the past week is any indication, more people will respond to the bell.
Every great tragedy brings stories of individuals who ignored their interests to protect others. The story of the coronavirus pandemic can be the strength of our communities. Social distancing doesn’t mean that we no longer live in a society — far from it. We’re all in this together.
James F. Hasson (@JamesHasson20) is a former Army officer, an Afghanistan veteran, and the author of Stand Down: How Social Justice Warriors Are Sabotaging America’s Military. He is an attorney and currently practices in Washington, D.C.
