What I will be doing in quarantine and how it can change the world.

The summer of 2019, previously known as “hot girl summer,” may go down in the history books as the last summer that humanity enjoyed as a collective. As the world comes to grips with the new situation that we see ourselves in, the main question is whether or not this summer will be as memorable as last. Perhaps, for many of us, it will be a quiet memory that we tuck away in our minds, hoping that one day when the sun shines on our skin once again, and it will, we will be free of this burden of worry and fear. But for others, possibly more so than the other group, there is a desire to go out (metaphorically of course) and seize the day so that you may not forget this time but rather keep it as a token of your experience and strength. Some people have deemed summer to be “canceled,” but in this time while you can cancel gatherings of people, what you can’t cancel is hope, freedom, and the will to continue to be greater than you were the day before. Here are some things that I plan on doing, from the comfort of my own couch, all while still keeping positivity flowing through my veins and unleashing it unto the world.

For starters, and perhaps the most obvious if you know me, is to write. I write every day of my life. While not every piece of content that I unleash is necessarily a New York Times Bestseller, it is raw, human, and undeniably mine. I keep a journal with me at all times, recording small details of my day that I find remarkable in the moment: the exact color of the leaves that are starting to fall upon my front lawn, the way my cat stretches out after sleeping for a prolonged amount of time in the small sunbeam patch on my carpet, the feeling I have of pure, unabridged joy when I get to talk to my friends, albeit through digital means. These moments, snippets of the daily slice of life, are oft forgotten in our day to day lives. I write these down and keep them with me, because there may come a day, as there have been before, where I need to call back upon these fond memories of mine. For they are all the hope I have in the world.

Another thing I plan on doing this summer is, despite my vain disinterest in capitalism and consumerism, try to watch as many movies as I can. I grew up in the digital age, the age where nearly everything I could ever wish upon is right at my fingertips, just waiting for my search query to be entered into Google. And yet, with everything that I have at my disposal, there are classics and great films that have yet to burn their way into my memory. I’m nearly 22 years old and I have never seen Dirty Dancing and while that may seem trivial to some, it seems outrageous to me. Watching this movie isn’t just watching a story unfold about a rich teen falling in love with a hunk of a dance instructor, it’s a connection to my mother. My mom has recounted on multiple occasions of going to see this film in the theatre upwards of five times, and she says it still makes her cry to this day. My mom was 18 when she first saw the movie, so I view myself as a little shy of 4 years too late on the jump to watch it myself. Sometimes the only way to continue into the future is to keep a reasonable respect for the past. I want to stay connected with my mother through one of her favorite things.

I’ve considered trying to take up art during this time. I consider myself an artist, a vacant one at times but an artist nonetheless. I write, which is one of the simplest art forms there is, but I wish for something more. I yearn for my emotions to be seen, interpreted as they may, and then be a fleeting memory of a passerby. Writing is good, yes, but it is so plain. I type what I wish to be known and then the reader reads it. Visual art, on the other hand, opens so many doors and avenues towards how the audience can see, use, interpret, and transform it. I want to make an impact in the world, it’s all I really have ever wanted, and sometimes that means creating things for the world to take and destroy. I desperately want to create art and to have it seen, not for the exposure, the money, the fame, but for the one person looking at it and feeling something inside of themselves for the first time. I create art to spark the next generation of artists, and hopefully in this quarantine I can truly create something worth looking at.

Between writing, watching films, reminiscing and connecting with the past, and unlocking the hidden doors to my own self-creativity, I hope to stay occupied during this time where I must stay occupied in my own house. The main take-away I want you to have from this is that there are three things that you must do in times that are uncertain like the ones we are in the midst of. For starters, you must create. Create something everyday if you can. Dig deep into yourself, find the deepest corners of yourself that have not been touched in ages, and pour yourself out into the world. Second, you must recognize your past. Whether this means appreciating and adoring the generations of brave, daring, and loving people who have come before you or vowing to yourself to be a better version of yourself, the past is there to remind you that time is moving forward. The future will be here before you know it, and only by looking back at the past, can you attempt to successfully move forward. And lastly, we must do all we can to change the world. This does not mean that every one of us has to be nurses, firefighters, soldiers, or politicians leading the new wave across the nation. Rather it means to leave the world with a little bit more light than it had before. I hope you all stay safe in this time and reflect on what I have said. In closing I leave you with this quote by Eduardo Galeano: “Many small people, in small places, doing small things can change the world”.