We’ve Been In Lockdown (Pt. 1)

We’ve Been In Lockdown (Pt. 1)

An exploration of lockdowns as a survival strategy in Black and Brown communities—before the global pandemic.

This think piece was originally published for World Wide Wing, The Wing’s global newsletter, in May 2020. The piece below has been lightly revised for my website.

According to CNN, extroverts, and protestors in Ohio (and Michigan and Florida…), I should have caught a case of cabin fever about four weeks ago.

Instead, it’s the question that I’ve asked myself—"Why haven’t you gone crazy yet?”—that’s annoyed me more than being confined to the four walls of my Brooklyn apartment over the last nine weeks. As an introvert with some anti-social tendencies, I already don’t do clubs, large gatherings, or crowded trains. But that’s only half the story. This quarantine, thus far, has felt incredibly familiar, in my body and in my life.

Growing up in the ghetto, home was where the windows were barred. Rebelling against your parents, roaming the streets with the homies, or being at the wrong place at the wrong time could have irreversible consequences: expulsion, teenage pregnancy, prison, even death. I watched others fall into each of those traps before the conclusion of my childhood. Because of the high risks, my mother made the executive order, implementing and enforcing the first social distancing protocol I lived through.

“Because of the high risks, my mother made the executive order, implementing and enforcing the first social distancing protocol I lived through. ”

No playing outside.

No hanging out with the neighborhood kids (any potential friends were subject to intense parental screening).

No taking elevators with strangers.

No video games for extended periods of time.

Exceptions: School (essential), annual school festivities (pending grades and behavior).

Who else cared about my Black life at that time except my mother?—about a young Black child with no status, family legacy—and at one point the academic prowess to be deemed as essential, worthy enough to protect.

For some, home is a base they can leave and then return to, freely and frequently, in pursuit of new adventures and growth. For me, and millions of Black and Brown people like me, home is protection from the the world. Staying in the house and on the block has been a strategy for Black preservation, sometimes to our own detriment. For some, this is the first time their freedom has been contracted by forces beyond them; an introduction to a trending Black Twitter conspiracy theory that maybe the world isn’t that safe.

“For some, home is a base they can leave and then return to, freely and frequently, in pursuit of new adventures and growth. For me, and millions of Black and Brown people like me, home is protection from the the world.”

After strictly adhering to protocol for 18 years, the lockdown was lifted and I went away to college—only to revert to deeply rooted patterns upon my return to NYC. Old habits die hard. Home has long been a sheltered space for me, in more ways than one. Lately, I’ve been thinking about how that protective place can create limitations, ones that perhaps prevented me living my fullest life. How do I break up with these patterns once this is all over?

But that’s a post-quarantine question. For now, I’m relying on the survival skills I learned growing up to get me through this while the rest of the world figures out how to adapt.