One Door Closes and Another Opens

So many positive things came to me as a result of the pandemic and my awakening, and to tell my story honestly, I must include the good with the bad.

In the beginning, completely unused to the idea that every health authority in the world might be lying, accepting the danger, accepting the lockdowns, accepting the masks. Only slowly, over a period of months, recognizing that the story, as presented to us, made no sense.

In the Spring semester of 2020, the school where I work (part of a larger arts institution) receives a government grant so that they can continue paying us, although the school is closed. The unexpected pleasure of having more time to work on my own films, without financial worries.

Pretty good unemployment benefits add to my feeling of financial security. Over the summer, I work as an assistant to my husband in his landscaping business, and I thoroughly enjoy doing this physical work with plants and the soil, working outdoors, and getting to spend so much time with him.

My school re-opens in the Fall, with a truly psychotic “safety” plan which not only requires masks, but literally controls every step every person can take, anywhere in the building, at all times and prescribes, to the inch, where you can sit and how to behave while briefly removing your mask to eat lunch. Going along with it because, despite everything, I still love the work that I do.

It’s when the vaccine mandates hit that everything shifts. I understand enough science that being injected with an experimental gene therapy for protection against a virus with a high survival rate is a hard no for me. Within the first week the shots are available a colleague tells me two members of his church died after getting vaccinated. My husband and I have been a close, loving couple for 36 years, but the stress between us now becomes considerable. He is not passionately pro or anti vaccine; he simply resents having to think about it or decide about it at all, and wants to find the simplest way to cope, which is to comply. I give him the freedom to make his own choices, but he knows me well enough to know that if he gets the shot, our marriage may not survive.

When the mayor makes it illegal for unvaccinated people to have a job in New York City, my husband is exempt, since he works for and by himself outdoors, and he remains unvaccinated. He has clients that require us to wipe every doorknob and every object we touch with a disinfectant wipe, while passing through the house on the way to their backyard. Very slowly, we work through the stress which the city’s vaccine mandate brings to our relationship and rebuild trust, coming back together as a couple. As we hear of more and more people we know who died from the shots or suffered serious vaccine injuries, and I share more of the scientific literature with him, his view of the vaccine shifts until it is closely aligned with my own. Enduring the official discrimination mandated by the city government together, we become closer than ever.

My only sister is two years older than me, and we’ve always been close. She tells me that her husband won’t let us enter their home because we’re unvaccinated, even though we all had Thanksgiving dinner together in their home in 2020. She agrees to meet me occasionally in her office, properly masked, but the stress that’s been created between us is toxic: bitter arguments, long periods of silence, resentment, fear, anger. (Today, my political perspective has completely transformed due to the pandemic, while hers has not. We have re-built our relationship, but at the price of having a large subset of topics which we cannot talk about with one another.)

My school forbids unvaccinated people from entering the building, even before the mayor mandates this for all jobs. I put together an elaborate document applying for a religious exemption, which they eventually “accept,” while also saying I still can’t enter the building. With a great deal of effort, I am able to negotiate a fully remote part-time position. It is very interesting work, utilizing my filmmaking skills, and I enjoy it, although it has fewer hours and a lower pay rate than what I had been doing. Unexpectedly, it opens doors. Tom and I now have a viable way of leaving the city and moving to Vermont, something we’ve been wanting for years.

At exactly this moment, I am awarded a Guggenheim Fellowship for my filmmaking. The fellowship comes with a lot of money, making our move to Vermont even more viable. I am very grateful to receive this support, and I look forward to participating in the official ceremony to receive the fellowship, but no unvaccinated people are allowed to attend. The Guggenheim Foundation told me they would have no problem with me attending, but the venue hosting the event refuses to make an exception. I celebrate privately, with a few friends.

October, 2021. Marching over the Brooklyn Bridge with a crowd of over 10,000 workers, mostly from the police and fire departments, to protest the vaccine mandates. Fully realizing that the scare stories about the dangerous pandemic are all lies, as I spend hours pressed together with this huge crowd of unmasked, unvaccinated people, all shouting and singing together the whole time, without it affecting my health in any way. A group of cops laughingly explain to me why they carry signs that say “Let’s Go Brandon.” After a few months though, all but a tiny handful of these folks have gotten the shot. They are working class people with families to support, and they have no choice.

We have a favorite restaurant in our Brooklyn neighborhood which we habitually went to once a week, and we are very friendly with the owners. Months pass, during which we can’t enter any restaurant, museum, movie theater, or other public place without a vaccine card. Seeing the restaurant owner on the street, and explaining that we’d love to celebrate Tom’s 70th birthday at the restaurant, but we don’t have vaccine cards. Feeling exceedingly grateful that he tells us this is no problem, and we just need to see him first when we come. Appreciating that quite a few restaurants have been shut down for violating the policy, and that he is taking a real risk on our behalf.

During Trump’s first presidency, I had absorbed the idea, common among Democrats like myself, that Republicans and conservatives are crazy, dangerous, racist, sexist and homophobic monsters. Participating in the anti-vaccine mandate movement, I meet many conservative Republicans, and realize that none of this is true. It’s New York City, so most of the Republicans are people of color. They aren’t racist. They’re intelligent, clear about the reasons for their beliefs, and compassionate and warmly accepting of me. They aren’t homophobic, except in one chilling incident, where one man rants against Ukrainian President Zelensky in vile, homophobic terms. I note with interest that the other population which shows up in numbers at the protests is graduate students in biology. It seems they know enough about science to be wary of the shot, but aren’t deep enough into their professions yet to be afraid of speaking out.

A native and lifelong New Yorker, I find myself increasingly alienated from the city. With the mayor ‘s decision to make it illegal for me to have a job or enter any public place, he does me the favor of permanently severing the last emotional ties I have to New York. My husband and I are both more than ready to move to Vermont, with no looking back and no regrets.

Starting our new life in a very remote, rural place of truly overwhelming beauty. Developing friendships with the wonderful people in our little village. The joy of digging my hands in the soil and growing my own food, and being able to preserve it so that it continues to nourish us through the long winters. Finding a vibrant community of musicians to make music with. Continuing to find opportunities to screen my films, both in Vermont and around the world. The stress of the Covid era, which at times was overwhelming, becomes a crucible that transforms us and makes possible a new and wonderful life.

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