National Mourning and Pandemic Grief
It’s been just about a year since the first Covid-19 death was reported in the United States. Over 400,000 people have died, but despite this massive loss of life, we’ve seen very little in the way of national mourning. Mourning is the outward expression of grief, a participatory ritual or rituals in which we integrate loss into our lives. While the rituals themselves vary depending upon cultural background, religion, and personal belief, mourning is a universal human expression.
Grief, conversely, isn’t an expression. It’s not something that “happens to us,” it’s something that happens within us. It’s an emotion. Unlike emotions that typically appear without prompting, such as happiness, excitement, or anger, however, grief is an emotion more akin to love. It comes on strong, nests inside, and can wax and wane with the years, yet never truly dissipates. How grief nests inside, how grief affects our psyche and our routines is personal—though loss that causes grief doesn’t have to be. We experience collective, or social grief, over the death of a public figure, the tragedy of natural disaster, and, yes, in the massive loss of life due to an unprecedented global pandemic. Even if we’re not acknowledging it.
It’s not solely the loss of life that is the source of our collective, if unrecognized, grief. The pandemic stripped away our way of life, our routines, our ability for unfettered socialization. This in and of itself is a profound loss. We’re grieving for the fact that we can no longer trust our neighbors to come into our homes, and for the wariness we didn’t formerly feel toward strangers on the street. We’re grieving for the small, annoying routines that formerly felt mundane and numbing. We’re grieving for what we didn’t even know could be lost.
For those among us who have lost businesses, livelihoods, and lifelong dreams during this pandemic, the grief perhaps as acute as bereavement.
Anyone who has gone through loss understands that grief can manifest in myriad ways: For some, grief induces a catatonic state, for some, a frenzy of activity. Some people may have trouble sleeping, others may never be able to get out of bed. I can’t help but draw parallels between the typical manifestations of grief, and folks’ response to the pandemic. Social media lit up with affirmations that “pandemic fatigue was real,” and that sleeping 14 hours a day was a legitimate, if unrealistic for most, form of self-care. On the other end of the spectrum we saw folks auditing college courses, learning new skills, mastering Tik-Tok dances, and making sourdough from scratch. (If I never hear about sourdough starter again, it’ll be too soon.)
So, we are grieving. But do we need to mourn?
EJ Dionne, a reporter for the Washington Post, told NPR in May, 2020, that, “We look to political leaders to help us confront the horrors we experience. We don't want the horror glossed over or explained away glibly. But we do want paths to hope and solidarity and fellowship and, at least, the possibility that we can emerge from tragedy better than we were before. That's how we keep living.” The segment outlined how leaders throughout history have provided opportunity for national mourning as a means of sculpting the nation’s narrative. In these fractured political times—as a year in the debate still rages over whether or not public safety is a matter of personal freedom or collective responsibility—we are perhaps more hungry than this than ever.
Here are some ways to creatively connect to an ethos of national mourning:
Volunteer. Mutual Aid organizations have been unsung heroes of the pandemic across the country. Get involved with your local chapter.
Sign up to be a contact-tracer in your neighborhood.
Write thank-you cards to healthcare workers and delivery drivers.
Attend virtual city council meetings (or in-person masked!) and stay up to date with local health initiatives.