I live two doors down, and across the street, from residential homes for adults with intellectual disabilities. There is one staff person on-site at all times. Each resident has their own room, has to pick out their clothes and dress for the day, has to do their own laundry (though some need assistance) and has keep their own room tidy. Some also have a night when they are responsible for cooking the meal for the residents, with assistance, and some have jobs: dishwashing in a restaurant or picking up debris at a hotel with large grounds. And still others have a school or program at a nonprofit they attend most days of the week.
Two of the residents are deaf. One is legally blind. Most are over 50. At least one resident had cancer. I’m pretty sure each of them has some kind of medical condition, like diabetes or high blood pressure. Most battle with being overweight.
The residents tend to live most of their adult lives in these homes. Outside of work or a program, if they have such, they watch TV, walk around the neighborhood, take mass transit to go to Wal-mart or McDonald’s (favorite destinations of both), or sit on my front wall and watch traffic or watch me do yard work. Before COVID-19, two residents loved to put my garbage bins out on garbage day, or bring them in, or push my yard waste bin from one end of the yard to another as I mowed.
One resident loves all things Disney, especially Mickey Mouse. She’s always wearing a hat or t-shirt with something related to Disney on it. She also loves to get her nails done.
One resident has never left the house in the seven years I’ve lived in my home. She also is the person who always answers the front door and she has flashing Christmas lights in her bedroom, and has them on very late into the evening.
One resident wears pink. She will also stand out in the front yard chirping when she’s frustrated about something, like not being accompanied to the store for a soda (she’s the one resident who isn’t allowed to walk anywhere by herself).
One resident rides his bike everywhere, and since he’s not allowed to smoke on the grounds on the residence, sits on my wall under some bamboo to smoke.
One resident loves cars, trucks and motorcycles, and though he has no idea what mechanical terms mean, will ask you, “Is that a v-6 or a v-8? Fuel injection? I bet it gets great gas mileage.” When I ask him what’s up, he says, “Nuttin’”, and I get to respond, “Nut-n-honey?”
One resident has been my shadow for years, walking my dog with me every afternoon. For a couple of years, in Spring and Summer and Fall, we would ride our bikes together exactly 10 blocks most evenings. He loves cops shows. He loves going to church. He loves collecting bottles and returning them for money. He loves the cat that he’s not supposed to have (it stays outdoors). He loves being judgemental about people that do not pick up their dog’s poop.
All of these residents, and more, are my neighbors. They are my friends. I like them. But even if I didn’t like them, even if I didn’t know them, even if they didn’t enrich my life in various ways, I would never challenge the idea that they do not have lives worth living.
Yet, I hear people say that thousands upon thousands of deaths from COVID-19 are inevitable and that these people I have just profiled for you, and thousands like them, and all who are medically vulnerable to the disease, are expendable. These people should die so you can go to Chili’s. They should die so that your kids can play soccer. They should die so you can go to a bar. They should die so you can have steak made by someone else. They should die so you don’t have to wear a mask.
Donal Trump told reporters during a press conference that while the death toll is “bad,” and “the numbers are going to increase with time,” we’re “going to be opening our country up for business, because our country was meant to be open.”
In other words: people must die so that my hotels can stay open.
Texas Lieutenant Governor Dan Patrick told Tucker Carlson of Fox News, “No one reached out to me and said, ‘As a senior citizen, are you willing to take a chance on your survival in exchange for keeping the America that all America loves for your children and grandchildren?’” But if they had? “If that is the exchange, I’m all in,” Patrick said. He continued: “That doesn’t make me noble or brave or anything like that. I just think there are lots of grandparents out there in this country, like me, I have six grandchildren, that what we all care about and what we love more than anything are those children. And I want to live smart and see through this, but I don’t want the whole country to be sacrificed…I’ve talked to hundreds of people, Tucker, and just in the last week, making calls all the time, and everyone says pretty much the same thing. That we can’t lose our whole country, we’re having an economic collapse. I’m also a small businessman, I understand it. And I talk with business people all the time, Tucker. My heart is lifted tonight by what I heard the president say because we can do more than one thing at a time, we can do two things. So my message is let’s get back to work, let’s get back to living. Let’s be smart about it and those of us who are 70-plus, we’ll take care of ourselves. But don’t sacrifice the country, don’t do that, don’t ruin this great America.”
I am happy to sacrifice for my community – ALL of the community. I am happy to wear a mask, to socially-distance, to give up all sorts of conveniences, if that’s going to keep my neighbors alive.
But I am not happy – nor willing – to sacrifice neighbors because I am inconvenienced.
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