csmonitor--2020-12-23--Destination 2021: What we’ll do differently next year

For some writers , it comes down to habitual pleasures denied , to friendships and family ties put on hold .
For others , the pandemic has forced a deeper rethink of what is and isn ’ t important , from communal gatherings to ritual greetings .
Whether these individual aspirations and insights are profound or poignant , all are deeply human impulses grounded in the sense of disruption that an unusual year in world history has wrought .
We share them with you as glimpses of what , we hope , will be a brighter future .
– Simon @ @ @ @ @ @ @ to an end , many of us will be eager to move on , hoping that 2021 shows a path out of a pandemic that has upended our way of life .
In that spirit , we asked Monitor writers and editors , near and far , to reflect on what COVID-19 has taken away and what , paradoxically , it has given us .
It ’ s a journey into what we yearn to experience again and what we have come to appreciate most , to the point where we may no @ @ @ @ @ @ @ old ways when the risk recedes .
As 2020 shudders to an end , many of us will be eager to move on , hoping that 2021 shows a path out of a pandemic that has upended our way of life .
In that spirit , we asked Monitor writers and editors , near and far , to reflect on what COVID-19 has taken away and what , paradoxically , it has given us .
It ’ s a journey into what we yearn to experience again and what we have come to @ @ @ @ @ @ @ we may no longer feel the urge to revert to old ways when the risk recedes .
For some writers , it comes down to habitual pleasures denied , to friendships and family ties put on hold .
For others , the pandemic has forced a deeper rethink of what is and isn ’ t important , from communal gatherings to ritual greetings .
Whether these individual aspirations and insights are profound or poignant , all are deeply human impulses grounded in the sense of disruption that an unusual year in world history @ @ @ @ @ @ @ you as glimpses of what , we hope , will be a brighter future .
I look forward to significantly lowering my standards when it comes to parenting .
Actually , I plan to toss out the verb “ parenting ” altogether – that anxiety-laden transformation of a noun into an activity that comes with ideologies , debates , comparisons , success markers .
During the pandemic , intensive “ family-ing ” has pushed intensive parenting out the window at our house .
Intensive parents know – because we have read all about @ @ @ @ @ @ @ the best caregivers possible – that pouring unprecedented time , resources , and attention into our children may not have been doing them ( or us ) many favors .
It is relentless , exhausting , and , according to many experts , ill prepares children for realities ranging from boredom to adulthood to laundry .
The pandemic has shifted my focus .
My girls do more chores , and they know that I must actually work – and occasionally zone out to “ The Home Edit.
” They know they can amuse @ @ @ @ @ @ @ of a family and that means responsibility as well as security .
They know they are loved beyond words .
After the pandemic I want to keep this approach , with no stressing about extracurriculars , play dates , missing a school day , or “ preparing for the future.
” I want to stay committed to family-ing .
It turns out the activity that I loved the most in Toronto is probably the worst thing you should do in a pandemic – crowd together in a windowless room at the back of @ @ @ @ @ @ @ David Bowie to the Beatles .
Choir !
Choir !
Choir !
, a weekly drop-in choral group started by two Canadians in 2011 , drew me in from the first session I attended in the summer of 2018 .
It was probably my weakness for “ Get Lucky ” by Daft Punk .
I hardly ever socialized – I came and sang and took the subway home – but the sense of community , of creating harmony with perfect strangers , left me feeling more connected to Toronto than any banter on @ @ @ @ @ @ @ return , it will be with a keener sense of what that experience really means .
Heck , I might even try to strike up a conversation with an alto .
Maybe you ’ re not a car person .
The crunch of tires on a gravel drive ?
The harmonics of an aftermarket tailpipe ?
Nah , you sputter .
Driving ’ s a drag , conveyance by appliance .
Let me drop you off right here .
First of all , what ’ s a car but a pod of imperturbability @ @ @ @ @ @ @ love the driving that I can still sneak in during the coronavirus : the quick spin – top down , heat on , mask up , scattering leaves through the twisties close to home .
There ’ s driving I miss : the road trip , planned or serendipitous , not worrying about whether the rest stops are quarantine clean .
Then there ’ s the driving I did pre-pandemic : stuck in a ruby river of brake lights , grateful – not smug – in a hybrid , but still grinding through @ @ @ @ @ @ @ and break out the same laptop I ’ d been using to do the same work at home .
( Thanks , Zoom .
You even sound like a word for proper driving . )
Regular road-roving is an act of privilege .
Trains can be better .
Bikes work .
Car guy here ; just get me started .
The best days of driving are just around the bend .
The hardwood counter at Chez Mémé is always cluttered .
Emptied coffee cups pile up .
Croissant crumbs litter plates .
Neighbors-turned-friends @ @ @ @ @ @ @ the latest political gaffe or the incessantly cloudy Parisian skies .
I was starting to finally feel a part of France ’ s cafe culture .
Marie , the owner , knew my name .
She knew I ’ d order a café allongé and eventually cave for a flaky pain au chocolat , my laptop open , pretending to look like I was working on something important .
Then the pandemic hit .
Cafes and restaurants closed .
Now , the four white walls of my living room – my de facto @ @ @ @ @ @ @ eyes bleed .
The silence is deafening .
I miss the clanking dishes as Marie rushes around the cafe and the assortment of characters I meet – Richard with his belly laughs , Laetitia always lounging against the counter , George studiously reading the free copy of Le Parisien .
It ’ s hard to find community in a city of 2 million people .
Sometimes , now , I ’ ll see Marie out for a walk in the neighborhood , both of us calling out “ bonjour , ” with knowing @ @ @ @ @ @ @ .
I live at the end of a street where you can pass the salt between houses .
We watch out for each other , take newcomers to dinner , share garden vegetables .
Some of us used to hit the movies together – but then theaters closed .
So we built our own – and laid the foundation for a deeper connection in our already closely woven neighborhood .
On the surface , it looks like this : We go to Peter and Kathy ’ s driveway , where PVC pipe and @ @ @ @ @ @ @ door .
We bring our own popcorn and seating .
Atmospherics include a full moon , neighbors strolling by , the occasional coyote howl .
But look deeper .
Movie selections are chosen by a democratic vote .
After the showing , we discuss what we saw – the influence , likely , of the teachers in the neighborhood .
As the final credits roll , we smile , bid each other warm good nights , and lug our chairs home , utterly satisfied .
It ’ s pandemic-driven viewing .
I hope @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Like Disneyland ’ s old Adventure Thru Inner Space , in which riders shrunk to less than the size of an atom while their surroundings exploded in size , my reduced pandemic orbit has somehow expanded my experience .
I don ’ t feel reduced .
I feel enabled .
And I like it .
My planned weekslong trip to Asia in 2021 has evaporated – a 20-hour flight cozied up with hundreds of passengers is now unappetizingly inconceivable .
In my new pandemic horizons , I ’ ve put 10,000 miles on @ @ @ @ @ @ @ otherwise have missed : permission and time granted to follow unexpected byways and stop and stare at the neon font on an abandoned midcentury motel .
My perfect – triple-movie – weekend is over .
But I ’ ve doubled my viewing pleasure , streaming in the comfort of a chair that isn ’ t a public health menace .
Jaw-clenching places-to-go-and-people-to-meet schedules and commutes ... gone .
And with no other place – or pace – to go , I ’ m hiking .
Averaging 30 miles of deep thought a week @ @ @ @ @ @ @ California sunsets , exquisite blooms , and the fleeting gleam in the eye of a roadrunner crossing my path .
I have led a peripatetic life as a foreign correspondent , and the coronavirus pandemic , because of the travel restrictions it imposed , was always going to cramp my style .
But when COVID-19 put me in the hospital last March , and nearly took my life , I was truly grounded .
As soon as I was well enough to travel , we left Paris and sought refuge in my wife @ @ @ @ @ @ @ been here ever since , in a secluded Burgundy village ( decimated by plague in 1751 but untouched by COVID-19 ) , learning to appreciate the unexpected pleasures of a long pause and the value of a sense of place .
The house has been in Edith ’ s family for many generations .
Each has lent the home its patina of furniture and decoration ; now we are doing the same .
It is imbued with the rhythms of continuity and security that I had shunned for most of my career , @ @ @ @ @ @ @ had feared I would feel trapped in my rural retreat .
Instead I am restored , ready to roam again when the opportunity returns .
For people of faith like myself , the pandemic initially seemed to threaten our sense of church .
After all , what ’ s a congregation that can ’ t congregate ?
But going online to worship and minister to one another has actually expanded and enhanced who we are .
Being together online enables sharing of faith stories and growing alongside people from places and cultures we @ @ @ @ @ @ @ not only draws more people now .
It ’ s also more interesting , exciting , and challenging than it used to be .
We will never go back to gathering as “ just us.
” After in-person gatherings resume , we ’ ll keep allowing people to engage remotely by feeling loved , making meaningful commitments , and taking risks that are the grist of spiritual transformation .
Talking heads on screens will be a lasting presence not only in worship but also in small groups and mission activities .
Powered by @ @ @ @ @ @ @ we see the ancient vision of a church universal materializing .
It seemed a poor substitute , but it was the only option : The memorial service for a longtime friend would have to be held via teleconference rather than in person in Portland , Maine .
But when we logged in , it soon became obvious that something unexpected and special was happening .
You can attend a Zoom meeting from anywhere , and our friend had a wide circle of friends , many of whom were now encountering one another for @ @ @ @ @ @ @ far away as Honolulu and London were present .
On Zoom , you look directly into the eyes of every speaker .
You ’ re virtually seated right across from everyone attending .
We were all equals : no in-person vs. on-video guests .
Some expressed surprise to discover the breadth of our friend ’ s network .
The experience changed my mind : At first , a Zoom memorial seemed too easy , even undignified .
Now I ’ m persuaded that the reach and very nature of such a service ( @ @ @ @ @ @ @ the medium ) can provide remarkable intimacy , connection , and solace – even discovery .
A smaller , in-person group would have been good .
But as it was , many more of us met face-to-face and heart-to-heart over the internet .
Going with the crowd Remember crowds ?
I do .
I remember them more fondly than I might have guessed if you ’ d asked me a year ago .
And I don ’ t mean just intentional crowds , like inside the arena where I last saw that spectacular @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Celtics game .
I mean ad hoc crowds , accidental crowds , inevitable but unorganized crowds on subway platforms , in department stores during the holidays , among the human tides that swamp the streets after big events – all of us talking , knocking shoulders , window-shopping for an available restaurant table .
And , sure , I know life won ’ t be re-crowded this winter .
But come fall , say ?
Come next Thanksgiving ?
Crowds just might be back .
And when they are , well , you @ @ @ @ @ @ @ to find me .
I ’ ll be adding to their number .
As spring burst forth this year , my wife and I dearly missed celebrating our wedding anniversary with a jaunt to New York City , something we try to do annually .
With careful planning we can jam three Broadway shows , an intriguing museum exhibition , and a morning pilgrimage to Central Park to spot migrating birds into three days ( and two expensive hotel nights ) .
We ’ re looking forward to when we ’ ll again @ @ @ @ @ @ @ train , emerge into the pandemonium of Grand Central Terminal , transfer to a packed subway car , and huddle together in a crowded cafe for an afternoon treat .
We ’ ll cap the day by wading through the waves of humanity at Times Square , marveling at their sheer enormity and diversity .
We may be just two more anonymous out-of-towners , but for a short while we belong to the city .
We breathe its air and become part of its throng , the thousands of individuals who en masse @ @ @ @ @ @ @ As a child , I was a voracious reader .
At a certain age , my parents bought a lamp to clip onto my bed frame and said I could read as late as I liked , but they were soon forced to set a reading curfew .
With that memory in mind , I made a New Year ’ s resolution for 2020 : read 12 fiction books , one per month .
I consume political news articles for hours each day , but I ’ ve stopped reading for fun over @ @ @ @ @ @ @ s because as a 27-year-old in a big city , I never considered reading to be an ideal way to spend my Friday nights .
Instead , when a friend would text me to get dinner , or suggest that we stop by another friend ’ s apartment , I ’ d always say yes .
By the end of March , I was 0 for 3 in my book resolution .
But then COVID-19 upended our lives .
Soon I had no choice but to spend my Friday evenings chipping away at @ @ @ @ @ @ @ my nightstand .
I remembered how wonderful it was to resist turning out the lights as a book ’ s plot unfolded .
After working out for months in my living room and then the kitchen when the local pool closed , something had to change .
I needed to create a space for myself instead of exercising in shared spaces .
So I turned a dark corner of the basement into my private gym on a DIY budget .
I painted the drywall bright yellow , bought interlocking floor mats , strung @ @ @ @ @ @ @ smart TV to stream workouts .
My family calls it “ Studio K. ” I also convinced four friends who live across the country to sign up for the same workout program so we could train “ together.
” I used to get up at 5 a.m. , head to the pool , hustle home to change , and then rush to catch an 8 a.m. train .
But now I have no commute and can work out with friends virtually anytime .
I love Studio K so much it will take effort @ @ @ @ @ @ @ it reopens .
Round the corner and up the hill toward the water tower sits a German pub that has been owned by the same family for more than a century .
Opened the year before World War I began , amid a landscape still populated with windmills , the pub now nestles inside one of Berlin ’ s most densely packed neighborhoods .
I often wonder , parked inside its wood-paneled walls , how its pork knuckle has evolved since 1913 .
I ’ d like to think it ’ s the @ @ @ @ @ @ @ s few drinks on tap all pair perfectly with the Wiener schnitzel , its breaded crust fried golden-brown .
My wallet is only €8 lighter for the experience , and it ’ s the tastiest I ’ ve had in Germany .
Usually weak-kneed for greasy pub fries , I always opt for the fried sliced-potato version .
Tables are nearly impossible to reserve after sundown – regulars are given top priority – but the coronavirus delivered both a blessing ( for us ) and a curse ( for them ) in their @ @ @ @ @ @ @ nearly always empty , and open to walk-ins like me .
Pre-pandemic , I ’ d been wishing my way toward a spot at the regulars ’ table , perched by the main window .
Realistically , I am a couple of decades away from being shown to that coveted spot .
Tea for two , and two for tea When I was growing up , my parents regularly invited people to tea on Sunday afternoons .
Nothing fancy , just a nice pot of Earl Grey with a homemade spice cake and @ @ @ @ @ @ @ to our garden in suburban Washington , D.C .
It was usually one or two guests , rarely more than that , since my parents wanted a meaningful visit .
The sessions were a chance to get to know newcomers at church , reconnect with old friends , or have a neighbor over .
I remember these afternoons as wonderfully intimate and relaxed , and carried them into my adult life .
My husband and I planned to start these up when we moved to the Los Angeles area in 2019 .
But @ @ @ @ @ @ @ the tea and make new friends , the pandemic hit .
For a short while , a neighbor organized regular “ check-ins ” in the middle of the street , and so we at least recognize people and give a friendly wave on our walks .
But it is as if we are frozen in time , not fully moved in , not really connected .
It ’ s nothing that a little spice cake won ’ t fix , with views to our birds of paradise instead of cherry blossoms .
I @ @ @ @ @ @ @ look forward to riding the Metro again .
Yes , Washington ’ s subway system has its shortcomings .
Before the pandemic , breakdowns could strand riders for an hour or more .
And forget 6 feet of distancing .
In rush hour , 6 inches felt like a luxury .
Working at home truly has had its advantages .
Yet cities promise to remain vital seedbeds of culture , politics , and business – and mass transit is a functional mainstay .
All the more so in an era of global warming @ @ @ @ @ @ @ eviscerated ridership and forced steep cuts in big-city transit budgets .
Longer term , Zoom chats will have their enduring place in a low-emission future .
But I ’ m eager to ride those rails again – to be part of the varied masses on board , to struggle to keep my balance amid the hum of the electric acceleration .
A black-bean tlacoyo , smothered in slimy nopales , sour cotija cheese , spicy green salsa , raw onions , and cilantro : This was my go-to order when I craved street @ @ @ @ @ @ @ around the corner to two umbrella-shaded women working a steaming griddle with precision and speed .
I ’ d call out my order over a scrum of other hungry customers , and if my timing was right , I ’ d score a dining spot on an upside-down bucket , where I ’ d devour this blue-corn delicacy off a plastic-wrapped plate .
It ’ s a ritual I ’ ve missed terribly during the pandemic .
I was just getting to the point where I felt comfortable navigating the unspoken rules of @ @ @ @ @ @ @ there ’ s no clear line , no menus , and half of the ingredients have names in Nahuatl , a pre-Hispanic language .
Dining curbside was such an important part of integrating into my adopted home .
So much of life is lived outside and among neighbors in Mexico City , and losing that , even temporarily , has made me feel untethered from my community .
I ’ m eager to get back to shared meals with strangers and a feeling of connection .
When I see a friend , there @ @ @ @ @ @ @ hello : I clasp his right hand , pull in for a one-armed hug around the back , lean my right cheek next to his , and air kiss .
I then switch sides and lean onto his left cheek and plant another two kisses .
If I really miss him ?
An extra three or four .
This is the greeting between male friends and relatives in my adopted home in Jordan and many parts of the Arab world .
It is a sign of brotherly love , respect , friendship , @ @ @ @ @ @ @ led me to embrace it .
In societies where body language is more important than words , much is said in a kiss-greet .
I can squeeze a little harder on the hug , press my cheek to show how much I value our friendship .
If his cheek does not touch mine ?
Then it ’ s probably not genuine .
Since COVID-19 hit the region , we now greet each other as instructed by government televised public service announcements : We place our hand over our chest and bow in respect @ @ @ @ @ @ @ physical affection and connection is lost .
Yet in an era when we ’ re trying to care for those around us , that is in its own way a gesture of love .
A language school had a discount – and I had time – so I signed up for online Arabic classes .
Every Thursday night since June , I follow along in pencil as my Arabic script flows right to left .
The learning is slow , but our teacher is patient ; someday I hope to report in Arabic @ @ @ @ @ @ @ toddler ’ s ( “ He is a tall baker ” ) , but it ’ s already unlocked simple joys beyond my laptop screen .
I live in New York City near “ Little Egypt , ” an area I ’ ve recently rediscovered with fresh eyes .
As I walk the strip of hookah bars and halal eateries , the mystery of storefront signs has begun to melt away .
Starved for connection behind a mask , I introduce myself with my favorite new word : tasharrafna ( nice to meet @ @ @ @ @ @ @ which grocers have copies of free Arabic-language newspapers , and I visit a store that sells me kindergarten texts .
“ Come again when you finish , ” says Sahar , an amused shopkeeper , as I exit with an alphabet workbook .
I ’ ll be back soon .
What I am appreciating more than I did before is light .
Being forced to stay in one place for months has taught me to be a connoisseur of light , and I ’ m learning to savor all its permutations .
With @ @ @ @ @ @ @ to notice the way the sun moves across the sky outside my home office windows – high and fierce in the summer and low and slanting in the winter .
I walk the same route almost every day , and I can appreciate the nuances of the sunlight hitting the bark on the trees , the filtering of morning light through the leaves , the subtle changes of the seasons .
I understand better why painters return again and again to the same location , trying to capture the quality of the light @ @ @ @ @ @ @ moving too quickly to notice how light changes everything about the day , and my mood .
I expect this awareness to last beyond the months of quarantine .
The other thing I have realized : My windows desperately need cleaning !
When this is over , I ’ d like to have the house to myself .
I ’ ll bid my wife and two young children a wonderful time at their grandparents , the museum , or wherever they want to go as long as it ’ s elsewhere , and @ @ @ @ @ @ @ sight , I ’ ll open a family-size bag of Tostitos .
Then , at long last , there will be silence .
Except for the crunching .
I ’ ll put on a film whose title is a single word and a Roman numeral .
Something like “ Stab II ” or “ Snakecano VI.
” Definitely not “ Caillou ’ s Holiday Movie.
” After that , I ’ ll think long thoughts , the kind of profound , uninterrupted cogitation available to Hobbes , Spinoza , Kant , and all @ @ @ @ @ @ @ or had kids .
After a few hours , I ’ ll feel something I haven ’ t felt in ages : I ’ ll miss my family .
When they return , we ’ ll embrace , and I ’ ll ask how their day was without already knowing the answer .
Then I ’ ll tell them about all the philosophical problems I solved , and how I have no idea what happened to the Tostitos .
Oh how I miss my Saturday ritual , watching my beloved Arsenal Football Club @ @ @ @ @ @ @ s more plush seating in the stadium these days , with the bleachers gone , but the sentiment remains . )
It ’ s not quite seeing your immediate family , but it is just as profound , magical , and full of community .
I look forward to reinstating my weekend pilgrimage that involves wrapping myself in a red-and-white scarf , walking through the packed streets of North London , smelling the scent of burgers you wouldn ’ t dare touch , and hearing the cacophony of 60,000 people as kickoff approaches @ @ @ @ @ @ @ t quite the same .
Football has been an empty shell without its crowds .
I ’ ll be doing what I usually do , but with more zest than before : screaming , shouting , and chanting in unison with thousands displaying the same colors .
We become one , speaking a common language of desperation in loss or utter joy in victory , holding a stranger in our arms when a goal is scored , and embracing the unscripted drama that unfolds on a patch of grass under the floodlights .
@ @ @ @ @ @ @ way the darkness tiptoes into the corners of a room .
We wouldn ’ t be celebrating our 20th wedding anniversary in Puerto Rico , after all .
It could have been disappointing .
Instead it just – was .
Here we were .
Together .
And that would be OK. As our expectations narrowed , something magical happened .
We started to see our home and our neighborhood through new eyes .
Isolated from many of the people we care about , we got to know our avian neighbors , not just @ @ @ @ @ @ @ We discovered a hidden pond and a tiny meadow , both just a 10-minute stroll away .
The irony of course is that these adventures had been waiting for us all along .
We ’ d simply never looked because we ’ d always been on our way somewhere else .
Our surprise at just how much we ’ ve overlooked in our own neighborhood has recently given way to a new resolve to focus on the present , the here , the now .
And , of course , each other .
@ @ @ @ @ @ @ re able to gather and travel freely once again , that ’ s something we ’ d do well to remember .
Like many urban millennials , I ’ d made it through most of my 20s eschewing car ownership in favor of public transit , ride-sharing apps , and carpooling with friends .
Relying on shared resources meant I saved money and occasionally could splurge on long-distance travel – flights , hotels , and rental cars .
But with the world changing in perhaps irrevocable ways , I reassessed .
A car @ @ @ @ @ @ @ So in May , I bought a used Toyota RAV4 – in purple , my favorite color .
It ’ s the first car I ’ ve ever owned , but it ’ s much more than that .
It ’ s a refuge , a mobile home-away-from-home .
With the help of plywood , a saw , and some screws , I transformed my car into a bedroom and kitchen on wheels .
Stored beneath a memory foam bed , camping and hiking gear makes it a veritable adventure mobile .
During @ @ @ @ @ @ @ helped me connect with loved ones from a safe distance .
I ’ ve slept in my parents ’ yard and made hot drinks for friends at trailheads .
But it also expands my possibilities for adventure after the pandemic .
Perhaps I can satisfy my wanderlust as a car owner , no flights or hotels necessary .
That first day of kindergarten Parenting is full of firsts – first smile , first step , first word – and parenting during a global pandemic is no different .
It ’ s brought us @ @ @ @ @ @ @ of them less celebratory : first remote school day , first masked foray .
But recent months have also kindled deep gratitude for the parenting adventures we ’ ve already had and a heartfelt expectation for those long overdue .
When the masks come off and social distancing ceases , I ’ ll be excitedly waving as my daughter boards the school bus with her neighborhood friends for her first day of kindergarten , proudly smiling as she snakes down the waterslide at the community pool , and enthusiastically cheering her on during @ @ @ @ @ @ @ even coach it !
The arrival of these milestones will be all the more joyous , though , because of the mountains we have climbed to get there – and they ’ ll be all the more special because of the grace , fortitude , and compassion we ’ ve learned along the way .
I have been living away from home since I was 17 , when I left to study abroad and , later , to work .
But it wasn ’ t until the pandemic that I realized how much @ @ @ @ @ @ @ , or what it really meant to be living thousands of miles away .
I used to try to make it back to Brunei at least once a year .
It ’ s now been over a year since I ’ ve seen my parents in person .
I miss being able to travel freely without worrying about health and quarantine .
I miss sunsets on the plane – the brilliant vermilion rays casting shadows on the clouds to form otherworldly landscapes in the sky .
And I miss my husband , who @ @ @ @ @ @ @ .
We ’ ve adjusted to seeing each other through a screen for now .
I call my parents more often .
I am also more intentional about staying connected with friends in Asia .
It is hard not knowing when I can be with my loved ones again .
But I ’ m also reminded home isn ’ t where I am ; it is where my heart is .

Monitor staffers weigh in on lessons from a year in isolation – and what they yearn to do most coming out of the pandemic.
For some writers, it comes down to habitual pleasures denied, to friendships and family ties put on hold. For others, the pandemic has forced a deeper rethink of what is and isn’t important, from communal gatherings to ritual greetings. Whether these individual aspirations and insights are profound or poignant, all are deeply human impulses grounded in the sense of disruption that an unusual year in world history has wrought. We share them with you as glimpses of what, we hope, will be a brighter future. – Simon Montlake / Staff writer
As 2020 shudders to an end, many of us will be eager to move on, hoping that 2021 shows a path out of a pandemic that has upended our way of life. In that spirit, we asked Monitor writers and editors, near and far, to reflect on what COVID-19 has taken away and what, paradoxically, it has given us. It’s a journey into what we yearn to experience again and what we have come to appreciate most, to the point where we may no longer feel the urge to revert to old ways when the risk recedes.
As 2020 shudders to an end, many of us will be eager to move on, hoping that 2021 shows a path out of a pandemic that has upended our way of life. In that spirit, we asked Monitor writers and editors, near and far, to reflect on what COVID-19 has taken away and what, paradoxically, it has given us. It’s a journey into what we yearn to experience again and what we have come to appreciate most, to the point where we may no longer feel the urge to revert to old ways when the risk recedes.
For some writers, it comes down to habitual pleasures denied, to friendships and family ties put on hold. For others, the pandemic has forced a deeper rethink of what is and isn’t important, from communal gatherings to ritual greetings. Whether these individual aspirations and insights are profound or poignant, all are deeply human impulses grounded in the sense of disruption that an unusual year in world history has wrought. We share them with you as glimpses of what, we hope, will be a brighter future.
– Simon Montlake / Staff writer
Why We Wrote This Monitor staffers weigh in on lessons from a year in isolation – and what they yearn to do most coming out of the pandemic.
Parental nonguidance suggested
Northampton, Mass.
I look forward to significantly lowering my standards when it comes to parenting. Actually, I plan to toss out the verb “parenting” altogether – that anxiety-laden transformation of a noun into an activity that comes with ideologies, debates, comparisons, success markers. During the pandemic, intensive “family-ing” has pushed intensive parenting out the window at our house.
And I think that’s good.
Intensive parents know – because we have read all about it, in our quest to be the best caregivers possible – that pouring unprecedented time, resources, and attention into our children may not have been doing them (or us) many favors. It is relentless, exhausting, and, according to many experts, ill prepares children for realities ranging from boredom to adulthood to laundry.
The pandemic has shifted my focus. My girls do more chores, and they know that I must actually work – and occasionally zone out to “The Home Edit.” They know they can amuse themselves. They know they are part of a family and that means responsibility as well as security. They know they are loved beyond words. After the pandemic I want to keep this approach, with no stressing about extracurriculars, play dates, missing a school day, or “preparing for the future.” I want to stay committed to family-ing.
– Stephanie Hanes / Correspondent
Harmonic convergence
Toronto
It turns out the activity that I loved the most in Toronto is probably the worst thing you should do in a pandemic – crowd together in a windowless room at the back of a pub, belting out everything from David Bowie to the Beatles. Choir!Choir!Choir!, a weekly drop-in choral group started by two Canadians in 2011, drew me in from the first session I attended in the summer of 2018. It was probably my weakness for “Get Lucky” by Daft Punk.
I hardly ever socialized – I came and sang and took the subway home – but the sense of community, of creating harmony with perfect strangers, left me feeling more connected to Toronto than any banter on the street ever did. When I return, it will be with a keener sense of what that experience really means. Heck, I might even try to strike up a conversation with an alto.
– Sara Llana Miller / Staff writer
Driving Mr. Collins
Hamilton, Mass.
Maybe you’re not a car person. The crunch of tires on a gravel drive? The harmonics of an aftermarket tailpipe? Nah, you sputter. Driving’s a drag, conveyance by appliance.
Joy ride? That’s just a guilt trip with a combustion engine.
Let me drop you off right here.
First of all, what’s a car but a pod of imperturbability, pandemic isolation in motion?
I love the driving that I can still sneak in during the coronavirus: the quick spin – top down, heat on, mask up, scattering leaves through the twisties close to home. There’s driving I miss: the road trip, planned or serendipitous, not worrying about whether the rest stops are quarantine clean.
Then there’s the driving I did pre-pandemic: stuck in a ruby river of brake lights, grateful – not smug – in a hybrid, but still grinding through a commute to get to an office and break out the same laptop I’d been using to do the same work at home. (Thanks, Zoom. You even sound like a word for proper driving.)
Regular road-roving is an act of privilege. Trains can be better. Bikes work. Car guy here; just get me started. The best days of driving are just around the bend.
– Clay Collins / Director of editorial innovation
Jacob Turcotte/Staff
Croissants and conversation
Paris
The hardwood counter at Chez Mémé is always cluttered. Emptied coffee cups pile up. Croissant crumbs litter plates. Neighbors-turned-friends stand elbow to elbow, chatting about the latest political gaffe or the incessantly cloudy Parisian skies.
I was starting to finally feel a part of France’s cafe culture. Marie, the owner, knew my name. She knew I’d order a café allongé and eventually cave for a flaky pain au chocolat, my laptop open, pretending to look like I was working on something important.
Then the pandemic hit. Cafes and restaurants closed. Now, the four white walls of my living room – my de facto workspace – are enough to make my eyes bleed. The silence is deafening. I miss the clanking dishes as Marie rushes around the cafe and the assortment of characters I meet – Richard with his belly laughs, Laetitia always lounging against the counter, George studiously reading the free copy of Le Parisien.
It’s hard to find community in a city of 2 million people. Sometimes, now, I’ll see Marie out for a walk in the neighborhood, both of us calling out “bonjour,” with knowing smiles of what we’re missing.
– Colette Davidson / Correspondent
Hollywood in the driveway
Hingham, Mass.
I live at the end of a street where you can pass the salt between houses. We watch out for each other, take newcomers to dinner, share garden vegetables. Some of us used to hit the movies together – but then theaters closed. So we built our own – and laid the foundation for a deeper connection in our already closely woven neighborhood.
On the surface, it looks like this: We go to Peter and Kathy’s driveway, where PVC pipe and fabric form a screen over the garage door. We bring our own popcorn and seating. Atmospherics include a full moon, neighbors strolling by, the occasional coyote howl.
But look deeper. Movie selections are chosen by a democratic vote. After the showing, we discuss what we saw – the influence, likely, of the teachers in the neighborhood. As the final credits roll, we smile, bid each other warm good nights, and lug our chairs home, utterly satisfied.
It’s pandemic-driven viewing. I hope it lasts long beyond this moment.
– Amelia Newcomb / Managing editor
Neon fonts and hiking jaunts
Laguna Beach, Calif.
Like Disneyland’s old Adventure Thru Inner Space, in which riders shrunk to less than the size of an atom while their surroundings exploded in size, my reduced pandemic orbit has somehow expanded my experience. I don’t feel reduced. I feel enabled. And I like it.
My planned weekslong trip to Asia in 2021 has evaporated – a 20-hour flight cozied up with hundreds of passengers is now unappetizingly inconceivable. In my new pandemic horizons, I’ve put 10,000 miles on my car in cross-country trips I might otherwise have missed: permission and time granted to follow unexpected byways and stop and stare at the neon font on an abandoned midcentury motel.
My perfect – triple-movie – weekend is over. But I’ve doubled my viewing pleasure, streaming in the comfort of a chair that isn’t a public health menace.
Jaw-clenching places-to-go-and-people-to-meet schedules and commutes ... gone. And with no other place – or pace – to go, I’m hiking. Averaging 30 miles of deep thought a week, I regularly choke up at rosy California sunsets, exquisite blooms, and the fleeting gleam in the eye of a roadrunner crossing my path.
– Clara Germani / Staff editor
A globe-trotter revels in nesting
Remigny, France
I have led a peripatetic life as a foreign correspondent, and the coronavirus pandemic, because of the travel restrictions it imposed, was always going to cramp my style. But when COVID-19 put me in the hospital last March, and nearly took my life, I was truly grounded.
As soon as I was well enough to travel, we left Paris and sought refuge in my wife’s family home. I have been here ever since, in a secluded Burgundy village (decimated by plague in 1751 but untouched by COVID-19), learning to appreciate the unexpected pleasures of a long pause and the value of a sense of place.
The house has been in Edith’s family for many generations. Each has lent the home its patina of furniture and decoration; now we are doing the same. It is imbued with the rhythms of continuity and security that I had shunned for most of my career, but now find deeply reassuring.
I had feared I would feel trapped in my rural retreat. Instead I am restored, ready to roam again when the opportunity returns.
– Peter Ford / International news editor
The church universal
Swampscott, Mass.
For people of faith like myself, the pandemic initially seemed to threaten our sense of church. After all, what’s a congregation that can’t congregate? But going online to worship and minister to one another has actually expanded and enhanced who we are.
Being together online enables sharing of faith stories and growing alongside people from places and cultures we’d never engage otherwise. Church not only draws more people now. It’s also more interesting, exciting, and challenging than it used to be. We will never go back to gathering as “just us.” After in-person gatherings resume, we’ll keep allowing people to engage remotely by feeling loved, making meaningful commitments, and taking risks that are the grist of spiritual transformation. Talking heads on screens will be a lasting presence not only in worship but also in small groups and mission activities. Powered by technology and the tireless Holy Spirit, we see the ancient vision of a church universal materializing.
– G. Jeffrey MacDonald / Religion correspondent
Intimacy at a great distance
Ipswich, Mass.
It seemed a poor substitute, but it was the only option: The memorial service for a longtime friend would have to be held via teleconference rather than in person in Portland, Maine. But when we logged in, it soon became obvious that something unexpected and special was happening. You can attend a Zoom meeting from anywhere, and our friend had a wide circle of friends, many of whom were now encountering one another for the first time. Participants from as far away as Honolulu and London were present.
On Zoom, you look directly into the eyes of every speaker. You’re virtually seated right across from everyone attending. We were all equals: no in-person vs. on-video guests. Some expressed surprise to discover the breadth of our friend’s network.
The experience changed my mind: At first, a Zoom memorial seemed too easy, even undignified. Now I’m persuaded that the reach and very nature of such a service (and everyone’s increasing familiarity with the medium) can provide remarkable intimacy, connection, and solace – even discovery. A smaller, in-person group would have been good. But as it was, many more of us met face-to-face and heart-to-heart over the internet.
– Owen Thomas / The Home Forum editor
Jacob Turcotte/Staff
Going with the crowd
Hingham, Mass.
Remember crowds? I do. I remember them more fondly than I might have guessed if you’d asked me a year ago. And I don’t mean just intentional crowds, like inside the arena where I last saw that spectacular Radiohead show, or that incredible Boston Celtics game. I mean ad hoc crowds, accidental crowds, inevitable but unorganized crowds on subway platforms, in department stores during the holidays, among the human tides that swamp the streets after big events – all of us talking, knocking shoulders, window-shopping for an available restaurant table.
I remember how crowds sounded. I remember how crowds felt.
And, sure, I know life won’t be re-crowded this winter. But come fall, say? Come next Thanksgiving? Crowds just might be back. And when they are, well, you won’t need to wonder where to find me.
I’ll be adding to their number.
– Michael S. Hopkins / Correspondent
A wedding anniversary among the masses
Holliston, Mass.
As spring burst forth this year, my wife and I dearly missed celebrating our wedding anniversary with a jaunt to New York City, something we try to do annually. With careful planning we can jam three Broadway shows, an intriguing museum exhibition, and a morning pilgrimage to Central Park to spot migrating birds into three days (and two expensive hotel nights).
We’re looking forward to when we’ll again be able to cram onto an Amtrak train, emerge into the pandemonium of Grand Central Terminal, transfer to a packed subway car, and huddle together in a crowded cafe for an afternoon treat. We’ll cap the day by wading through the waves of humanity at Times Square, marveling at their sheer enormity and diversity.
We may be just two more anonymous out-of-towners, but for a short while we belong to the city. We breathe its air and become part of its throng, the thousands of individuals who en masse tell a vast and varied story.
– Greg Lamb / Correspondent
Book marked
Washington
As a child, I was a voracious reader. At a certain age, my parents bought a lamp to clip onto my bed frame and said I could read as late as I liked, but they were soon forced to set a reading curfew. With that memory in mind, I made a New Year’s resolution for 2020: read 12 fiction books, one per month. I consume political news articles for hours each day, but I’ve stopped reading for fun over the past few years.
That’s because as a 27-year-old in a big city, I never considered reading to be an ideal way to spend my Friday nights. Instead, when a friend would text me to get dinner, or suggest that we stop by another friend’s apartment, I’d always say yes. By the end of March, I was 0 for 3 in my book resolution.
But then COVID-19 upended our lives. Soon I had no choice but to spend my Friday evenings chipping away at the stack of overdue library books on my nightstand. I remembered how wonderful it was to resist turning out the lights as a book’s plot unfolded.
One recent Friday, I finished book No. 13.
– Story Hinckley / Staff writer
Opening Studio K
Milton, Mass.
After working out for months in my living room and then the kitchen when the local pool closed, something had to change. I needed to create a space for myself instead of exercising in shared spaces. So I turned a dark corner of the basement into my private gym on a DIY budget. I painted the drywall bright yellow, bought interlocking floor mats, strung up fairy lights, and mounted a smart TV to stream workouts. My family calls it “Studio K.”
I also convinced four friends who live across the country to sign up for the same workout program so we could train “together.” I used to get up at 5 a.m., head to the pool, hustle home to change, and then rush to catch an 8 a.m. train. But now I have no commute and can work out with friends virtually anytime. I love Studio K so much it will take effort to get back to the pool when it reopens.
– Kendra Nordin Beato / Staff writer
The pub as a community hearth
Berlin
Round the corner and up the hill toward the water tower sits a German pub that has been owned by the same family for more than a century. Opened the year before World War I began, amid a landscape still populated with windmills, the pub now nestles inside one of Berlin’s most densely packed neighborhoods.
I often wonder, parked inside its wood-paneled walls, how its pork knuckle has evolved since 1913. I’d like to think it’s the same dish today. The pub’s few drinks on tap all pair perfectly with the Wiener schnitzel, its breaded crust fried golden-brown. My wallet is only €8 lighter for the experience, and it’s the tastiest I’ve had in Germany. Usually weak-kneed for greasy pub fries, I always opt for the fried sliced-potato version.
Tables are nearly impossible to reserve after sundown – regulars are given top priority – but the coronavirus delivered both a blessing (for us) and a curse (for them) in their hastily arranged sidewalk tent. It was nearly always empty, and open to walk-ins like me. Pre-pandemic, I’d been wishing my way toward a spot at the regulars’ table, perched by the main window. Realistically, I am a couple of decades away from being shown to that coveted spot.
– Lenora Chu / Special correspondent
Tea for two, and two for tea
Pasadena, Calif.
When I was growing up, my parents regularly invited people to tea on Sunday afternoons. Nothing fancy, just a nice pot of Earl Grey with a homemade spice cake and a view out the sliding glass doors to our garden in suburban Washington, D.C.
It was usually one or two guests, rarely more than that, since my parents wanted a meaningful visit. The sessions were a chance to get to know newcomers at church, reconnect with old friends, or have a neighbor over. I remember these afternoons as wonderfully intimate and relaxed, and carried them into my adult life.
My husband and I planned to start these up when we moved to the Los Angeles area in 2019. But just when we were ready to brew the tea and make new friends, the pandemic hit. For a short while, a neighbor organized regular “check-ins” in the middle of the street, and so we at least recognize people and give a friendly wave on our walks.
But it is as if we are frozen in time, not fully moved in, not really connected. It’s nothing that a little spice cake won’t fix, with views to our birds of paradise instead of cherry blossoms.
– Francine Kiefer / Staff writer
Virtues of subway straps
Washington
I may be crazy, but I actually look forward to riding the Metro again. Yes, Washington’s subway system has its shortcomings. Before the pandemic, breakdowns could strand riders for an hour or more. And forget 6 feet of distancing. In rush hour, 6 inches felt like a luxury. Working at home truly has had its advantages.
Yet cities promise to remain vital seedbeds of culture, politics, and business – and mass transit is a functional mainstay. All the more so in an era of global warming.
For now, the pandemic has eviscerated ridership and forced steep cuts in big-city transit budgets. Longer term, Zoom chats will have their enduring place in a low-emission future. But I’m eager to ride those rails again – to be part of the varied masses on board, to struggle to keep my balance amid the hum of the electric acceleration.
– Mark Trumbull / Economics editor
Street food with street cred
Mexico City
A black-bean tlacoyo, smothered in slimy nopales, sour cotija cheese, spicy green salsa, raw onions, and cilantro: This was my go-to order when I craved street food pre-pandemic. I’d walk around the corner to two umbrella-shaded women working a steaming griddle with precision and speed. I’d call out my order over a scrum of other hungry customers, and if my timing was right, I’d score a dining spot on an upside-down bucket, where I’d devour this blue-corn delicacy off a plastic-wrapped plate.
It’s a ritual I’ve missed terribly during the pandemic. I was just getting to the point where I felt comfortable navigating the unspoken rules of ordering street food – after all, there’s no clear line, no menus, and half of the ingredients have names in Nahuatl, a pre-Hispanic language. Dining curbside was such an important part of integrating into my adopted home. So much of life is lived outside and among neighbors in Mexico City, and losing that, even temporarily, has made me feel untethered from my community. I’m eager to get back to shared meals with strangers and a feeling of connection.
– Whitney Eulich / Special correspondent
Vanishing greetings
Amman, Jordan
When I see a friend, there is only one true way to say hello: I clasp his right hand, pull in for a one-armed hug around the back, lean my right cheek next to his, and air kiss. I then switch sides and lean onto his left cheek and plant another two kisses. If I really miss him? An extra three or four.
This is the greeting between male friends and relatives in my adopted home in Jordan and many parts of the Arab world. It is a sign of brotherly love, respect, friendship, a bond that spoke to me and led me to embrace it. In societies where body language is more important than words, much is said in a kiss-greet. I can squeeze a little harder on the hug, press my cheek to show how much I value our friendship. If his cheek does not touch mine? Then it’s probably not genuine.
Since COVID-19 hit the region, we now greet each other as instructed by government televised public service announcements: We place our hand over our chest and bow in respect from afar. For me, the physical affection and connection is lost. Yet in an era when we’re trying to care for those around us, that is in its own way a gesture of love.
– Taylor Luck / Special correspondent
Learning a new language in isolation
New York
A language school had a discount – and I had time – so I signed up for online Arabic classes. Every Thursday night since June, I follow along in pencil as my Arabic script flows right to left. The learning is slow, but our teacher is patient; someday I hope to report in Arabic. My current vocabulary may resemble a toddler’s (“He is a tall baker”), but it’s already unlocked simple joys beyond my laptop screen.
I live in New York City near “Little Egypt,” an area I’ve recently rediscovered with fresh eyes. As I walk the strip of hookah bars and halal eateries, the mystery of storefront signs has begun to melt away. Starved for connection behind a mask, I introduce myself with my favorite new word: tasharrafna (nice to meet you). I’ve learned which grocers have copies of free Arabic-language newspapers, and I visit a store that sells me kindergarten texts. “Come again when you finish,” says Sahar, an amused shopkeeper, as I exit with an alphabet workbook. I’ll be back soon.
– Sarah Matusek / Staff writer
A new slant on light
Lexington, Mass.
What I am appreciating more than I did before is light. Being forced to stay in one place for months has taught me to be a connoisseur of light, and I’m learning to savor all its permutations. With no commute, I now have time to notice the way the sun moves across the sky outside my home office windows – high and fierce in the summer and low and slanting in the winter.
I walk the same route almost every day, and I can appreciate the nuances of the sunlight hitting the bark on the trees, the filtering of morning light through the leaves, the subtle changes of the seasons. I understand better why painters return again and again to the same location, trying to capture the quality of the light. Before the pandemic, I was moving too quickly to notice how light changes everything about the day, and my mood. I expect this awareness to last beyond the months of quarantine. The other thing I have realized: My windows desperately need cleaning!
– April Austin / Weekly deputy editor and books editor
Crunch time
Amherst, Mass.
When this is over, I’d like to have the house to myself. I’ll bid my wife and two young children a wonderful time at their grandparents, the museum, or wherever they want to go as long as it’s elsewhere, and the moment they’re out of sight, I’ll open a family-size bag of Tostitos.
Then, at long last, there will be silence. Except for the crunching.
I’ll put on a film whose title is a single word and a Roman numeral. Something like “Stab II” or “Snakecano VI.” Definitely not “Caillou’s Holiday Movie.” After that, I’ll think long thoughts, the kind of profound, uninterrupted cogitation available to Hobbes, Spinoza, Kant, and all those other eminent thinkers who never married or had kids.
After a few hours, I’ll feel something I haven’t felt in ages: I’ll miss my family. When they return, we’ll embrace, and I’ll ask how their day was without already knowing the answer. Then I’ll tell them about all the philosophical problems I solved, and how I have no idea what happened to the Tostitos.
– Eoin O’Carroll / Science writer
Jacob Turcotte/Staff
The sounds of soccer
London
Oh how I miss my Saturday ritual, watching my beloved Arsenal Football Club from the stands. (It’s more plush seating in the stadium these days, with the bleachers gone, but the sentiment remains.) It’s not quite seeing your immediate family, but it is just as profound, magical, and full of community. I look forward to reinstating my weekend pilgrimage that involves wrapping myself in a red-and-white scarf, walking through the packed streets of North London, smelling the scent of burgers you wouldn’t dare touch, and hearing the cacophony of 60,000 people as kickoff approaches.
Watching football on television isn’t quite the same. Football has been an empty shell without its crowds. I’ll be doing what I usually do, but with more zest than before: screaming, shouting, and chanting in unison with thousands displaying the same colors. We become one, speaking a common language of desperation in loss or utter joy in victory, holding a stranger in our arms when a goal is scored, and embracing the unscripted drama that unfolds on a patch of grass under the floodlights.
– Shafi Musaddique / Correspondent
Discovering what’s already there
Brighton, Mass.
The realization set in slowly, the way the darkness tiptoes into the corners of a room. We wouldn’t be celebrating our 20th wedding anniversary in Puerto Rico, after all.
It could have been disappointing. Instead it just – was.
Here we were. Together. And that would be OK.
As our expectations narrowed, something magical happened. We started to see our home and our neighborhood through new eyes. Isolated from many of the people we care about, we got to know our avian neighbors, not just by species, but as individuals. We discovered a hidden pond and a tiny meadow, both just a 10-minute stroll away.
The irony of course is that these adventures had been waiting for us all along. We’d simply never looked because we’d always been on our way somewhere else.
Our surprise at just how much we’ve overlooked in our own neighborhood has recently given way to a new resolve to focus on the present, the here, the now. And, of course, each other.
When the post-pandemic comes and we’re able to gather and travel freely once again, that’s something we’d do well to remember.
– Noelle Swan / Weekly edition editor
My homemade mobile home
Boston
I didn’t plan on buying a car.
Like many urban millennials, I’d made it through most of my 20s eschewing car ownership in favor of public transit, ride-sharing apps, and carpooling with friends. Relying on shared resources meant I saved money and occasionally could splurge on long-distance travel – flights, hotels, and rental cars.
But with the world changing in perhaps irrevocable ways, I reassessed. A car of my own offered enticing freedom. So in May, I bought a used Toyota RAV4 – in purple, my favorite color. It’s the first car I’ve ever owned, but it’s much more than that. It’s a refuge, a mobile home-away-from-home.
With the help of plywood, a saw, and some screws, I transformed my car into a bedroom and kitchen on wheels. Stored beneath a memory foam bed, camping and hiking gear makes it a veritable adventure mobile.
During the pandemic, my car camper has helped me connect with loved ones from a safe distance. I’ve slept in my parents’ yard and made hot drinks for friends at trailheads. But it also expands my possibilities for adventure after the pandemic. Perhaps I can satisfy my wanderlust as a car owner, no flights or hotels necessary.
– Eva Botkin-Kowacki / Science writer
That first day of kindergarten
Needham, Mass.
Parenting is full of firsts – first smile, first step, first word – and parenting during a global pandemic is no different. It’s brought us another set of firsts, albeit many of them less celebratory: first remote school day, first masked foray.
But recent months have also kindled deep gratitude for the parenting adventures we’ve already had and a heartfelt expectation for those long overdue. When the masks come off and social distancing ceases, I’ll be excitedly waving as my daughter boards the school bus with her neighborhood friends for her first day of kindergarten, proudly smiling as she snakes down the waterslide at the community pool, and enthusiastically cheering her on during her first soccer game. I may even coach it!
The arrival of these milestones will be all the more joyous, though, because of the mountains we have climbed to get there – and they’ll be all the more special because of the grace, fortitude, and compassion we’ve learned along the way.
– Casey Fedde / Chief copy editor
Jacob Turcotte/Staff
Oceans away
New York
I have been living away from home since I was 17, when I left to study abroad and, later, to work. But it wasn’t until the pandemic that I realized how much I had taken air travel for granted, or what it really meant to be living thousands of miles away.
I used to try to make it back to Brunei at least once a year. It’s now been over a year since I’ve seen my parents in person. I miss being able to travel freely without worrying about health and quarantine. I miss sunsets on the plane – the brilliant vermilion rays casting shadows on the clouds to form otherworldly landscapes in the sky. And I miss my husband, who is in London, an ocean away.
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We’ve adjusted to seeing each other through a screen for now. I call my parents more often. I am also more intentional about staying connected with friends in Asia. It is hard not knowing when I can be with my loved ones again. But I’m also reminded home isn’t where I am; it is where my heart is.
– Connie Foong / Staff writer


csmonitor--2020-12-24--When is the proof in the pudding, anyway?

When interviewed in November about efforts to reform the Baltimore Police Department , a resident responded : “ The proof is in the pudding .
You ’ ve checked all the boxes .
Now the work has to begin , and are you really in earnest going to do the work ?
” In other words , he will believe in the efforts when he sees some reforms .
The strange phrase – the clue is in the custard ?
– is just one of many odd and interesting food idioms in English .
The contemporary iteration of the phrase @ @ @ @ @ @ @ proof and pudding .
But the original proverb , “ the proof of the pudding is in the eating , ” doesn ’ t use these words as most Americans or British people understand them today .
Pudding is a boiled meat-fruit-bread “ cannonball ” ( as we saw last week ) , and proof is “ test.
” The proverb thus means , according to Merriam-Webster , that “ the real worth , success , or effectiveness of something can only be determined by putting it to the test by trying or @ @ @ @ @ @ @ test of a pudding is to eat it.
” As proof and pudding changed meanings over the centuries , English speakers remembered what the proverb was supposed to signify , but forgot exactly why .
It got garbled into “ The proof is in the pudding , ” which bothers many language mavens because , as one bemoans , “ it makes no sense.
” It does make some kind of sense , though , when proof means “ evidence ” and not “ test.
” If the proof isn ’ t in @ @ @ @ @ @ @ be required .
“ Humble pie ” sounds like a metaphor but it was a real dish .
Numbles , or umbles , was a 14th-century word for “ offal , ” usually the entrails of a deer .
In the Middle Ages , the consumption of venison was regulated by a strict class hierarchy .
Noblemen took the best parts of the fattest deer for themselves , the forester and the best hunter got the shoulders , and so on , down the social scale .
Where the numbles fit in , @ @ @ @ @ @ @ .
According to some sources , numbles should be given to the hunting dogs and to any area peasants ; in others , they are described as some of “ the choicest parts of the stag ” and given to “ the lord of the hunt.
” “ Umble pie ” was thus a humble food , with connotations of poverty and social inferiority , or the exact opposite , a dish worthy of a nobleman ’ s table .
“ To eat humble pie ” is a 19th-century expression , however , @ @ @ @ @ @ @ umbles were decidedly “ the food of inferiors , ” as one lexicographer put it in 1830 .
Humble as in “ modest ” and umble as in “ offal ” sound the same in h-dropping dialects of English as well , so whichever way you slice it “ eating humble pie ” signifies “ making a humble apology and accepting humiliation.
” Next , we ’ ll try to figure out what apple pies have to do with neatness , and why people strive to bring home the bacon .

When interviewed in November about efforts to reform the Baltimore Police Department, a resident responded: “The proof is in the pudding. You’ve checked all the boxes. Now the work has to begin, and are you really in earnest going to do the work?” In other words, he will believe in the efforts when he sees some reforms. The strange phrase – the clue is in the custard? – is just one of many odd and interesting food idioms in English.
The contemporary iteration of the phrase likely brings to mind modern interpretations of proof and pudding. But the original proverb, “the proof of the pudding is in the eating,” doesn’t use these words as most Americans or British people understand them today. Pudding is a boiled meat-fruit-bread “cannonball” (as we saw last week), and proof is “test.” The proverb thus means, according to Merriam-Webster, that “the real worth, success, or effectiveness of something can only be determined by putting it to the test by trying or using it ... just as the best test of a pudding is to eat it.”
As proof and pudding changed meanings over the centuries, English speakers remembered what the proverb was supposed to signify, but forgot exactly why. It got garbled into “The proof is in the pudding,” which bothers many language mavens because, as one bemoans, “it makes no sense.” It does make some kind of sense, though, when proof means “evidence” and not “test.”
If the proof isn’t in the pudding, eating humble pie might be required. “Humble pie” sounds like a metaphor but it was a real dish. Numbles, or umbles, was a 14th-century word for “offal,” usually the entrails of a deer. In the Middle Ages, the consumption of venison was regulated by a strict class hierarchy. Noblemen took the best parts of the fattest deer for themselves, the forester and the best hunter got the shoulders, and so on, down the social scale. Where the numbles fit in, though, was a point of contention. According to some sources, numbles should be given to the hunting dogs and to any area peasants; in others, they are described as some of “the choicest parts of the stag” and given to “the lord of the hunt.” “Umble pie” was thus a humble food, with connotations of poverty and social inferiority, or the exact opposite, a dish worthy of a nobleman’s table.
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empower and uplift daily. By signing up, you agree to our Privacy Policy Already a subscriber? Log in to hide ads.
“To eat humble pie” is a 19th-century expression, however, and at that point in history the umbles were decidedly “the food of inferiors,” as one lexicographer put it in 1830. Humble as in “modest” and umble as in “offal” sound the same in h-dropping dialects of English as well, so whichever way you slice it “eating humble pie” signifies “making a humble apology and accepting humiliation.”
Next, we’ll try to figure out what apple pies have to do with neatness, and why people strive to bring home the bacon.


csmonitor--2020-12-24--‘Parting is such sweet sorrow’: EU and UK clinch narrow Brexit accord

Britain clinched a narrow Brexit trade deal with the European Union on Thursday , just seven days before it exits one of the world ’ s biggest trading blocs in its most significant global shift since the loss of empire .
The deal , agreed more than four years after Britain voted to leave the bloc by a slim margin , offers a way out of a chaotic finale to a divorce that has shaken the 70-year project to forge European unity from the ruins of World War II .
It will preserve Britain ’ s zero-tariff and zero-quota access @ @ @ @ @ @ @ of 450 million consumers , but will not prevent economic pain and disruption for the United Kingdom or for EU member states .
Many aspects of Britain ’ s future relationship with the EU remain to be hammered out , possibly over years .
“ We have taken back control of our destiny , ” British Prime Minister Boris Johnson told reporters after tweeting a picture of himself raising both arms in a thumbs-up gesture of triumph .
“ People said it was impossible , but we have taken back control.
” The @ @ @ @ @ @ @ 31 but has since been in a transition period under which rules on trade , travel and business remained unchanged until the end of this year .
Mr. Johnson , the face of the pro-Brexit campaign , had said that since 52 % had voted to leave the EU , he did not want to accept the rules of its single market or its customs union after Jan. 1 .
The EU did not want to give unfettered privileges to a freewheeling , deregulated British economy outside the bloc , and so potentially @ @ @ @ @ @ @ a tortuous negotiation .
“ It was a long and winding road , ” European Commission President Ursula von der Leyen told reporters , quoting the Paul McCartney song .
“ But we have got a good deal to show for it .
...
Finally we can leave Brexit behind us and look to the future .
Europe is now moving on.
” Mr. Johnson described the last-minute agreement as a “ jumbo ” free trade deal along the lines of that done between the European Union and Canada , and urged Britain @ @ @ @ @ @ @ by the 2016 Brexit referendum .
The deal will also support the peace in Northern Ireland - a priority for U.S. President-elect Joe Biden , who had warned Mr. Johnson that he must uphold the 1998 Good Friday Agreement .
EU member Ireland said the deal , which the Commission website said would be published soon , protected its interests as well as could possibly have been hoped .
But it left much of the detail still to be worked out .
The trade pact will not cover services , which make up @ @ @ @ @ @ @ including a banking industry that positions London as the only financial capital to rival New York .
Access to the EU market for U.K.-based banks , insurers and asset managers will become patchy at best .
Mr. Johnson said the deal did not contain as much as he would have liked on regulatory equivalence for financial services , but still contained some “ good language.
” JPMorgan said the EU had secured a deal that allowed it retain nearly all of its advantages from trade with the U.K. but with the ability to @ @ @ @ @ @ @ among sectors where the U.K. had advantages – such as services .
“ The unity and strength of Europe paid off , ” French President Emmanuel Macron said .
“ The agreement with the United Kingdom is essential to protect our citizens , our fishermen , our producers .
We will make sure that this is the case.
” Brexit campaigner Nigel Farage said the deal would keep the U.K. far too closely aligned with the EU , adding that he hoped this would be the beginning of the end of the bloc @ @ @ @ @ @ @ trade will have more rules , more red tape and more cost .
There will be some disruption at ports .
Everything from food safety regulation and exporting rules to product certification will change .
Much of the detail has yet to worked out .
A U.S. State Department official welcomed the agreement and said Washington wanted good relations with Britain and the EU , while adding : “ We leave it to the U.K. and EU to negotiate a post-Brexit trade deal that is mutually agreeable and beneficial to both parties.
” @ @ @ @ @ @ @ voting to leave the EU , many in Europe hoped that it could stay closely aligned .
Dr .
Von der Leyen , quoting Shakespeare , said that “ parting is such sweet sorrow.
” The EU loses its principal military and intelligence power , 15 % of GDP , one of the world ’ s top two financial capitals , and a champion of free markets that had acted as an important check on the ambitions of Germany and France .
Without the collective might of the EU , the United Kingdom @ @ @ @ @ @ @ more reliant on the United States – when negotiating with China , Russia , and India .
It will have more autonomy but be poorer , at least in the short term .
Sterling was up just 0.3 % on the day by 1630 GMT , having earlier risen to $ 1.3618 – just shy of last week ’ s 2-1/2-year high on news of the deal , as investors turned to the detail .
The Bank of England has said that , even with a trade deal , Britain ’ s gross @ @ @ @ @ @ @ 1 % hit from Brexit in the first quarter of 2021 .
And Britain ’ s budget forecasters have said the economy will be 4 % smaller over 15 years than it would have been if Britain had stayed in the bloc .
British businesses , among the world ’ s worst hit by the coronavirus , were downbeat .
“ After four long years of uncertainty and upheaval , and just days before the end of transition , businesses will be able to muster little more than a muted and weary cheer @ @ @ @ @ @ @ of the British Chambers of Commerce , said .
The U.K. , which imports about $ 107 billion more a year from the EU than it exports there , had bickered until the end over fish – a totemic issue , but worth less than 0.1 % of GDP .
Tony Danker , director-general of the Confederation of British Industry , said time was now critically short .
“ Coming so late in the day , it is vital that both sides take instant steps to keep trade moving and services flowing.
” @ @ @ @ @ @ @ approval of both European Parliament and the EU ’ s 27 member states .
Ambassadors from EU countries will meet on Dec. 25 to start reviewing the deal .
The European Parliament said on Thursday it would analyze the deal in detail before deciding whether to approve the agreement in the new year .
The British parliament , as divided as the country over Brexit , will debate and vote on the deal on Dec. 30 , just one day before the transition period lapses .
This story was reported by Reuters .

Guy Faulconbridge, Elizabeth Piper, and John Chalmers

Britain clinched a narrow Brexit trade deal with the European Union on Thursday, just seven days before it exits one of the world’s biggest trading blocs in its most significant global shift since the loss of empire.
The deal, agreed more than four years after Britain voted to leave the bloc by a slim margin, offers a way out of a chaotic finale to a divorce that has shaken the 70-year project to forge European unity from the ruins of World War II.
It will preserve Britain’s zero-tariff and zero-quota access to the bloc’s single market of 450 million consumers, but will not prevent economic pain and disruption for the United Kingdom or for EU member states.
Many aspects of Britain’s future relationship with the EU remain to be hammered out, possibly over years.
“We have taken back control of our destiny,” British Prime Minister Boris Johnson told reporters after tweeting a picture of himself raising both arms in a thumbs-up gesture of triumph.
“People said it was impossible, but we have taken back control.”
The U.K. formally left the EU on Jan. 31 but has since been in a transition period under which rules on trade, travel and business remained unchanged until the end of this year.
Mr. Johnson, the face of the pro-Brexit campaign, had said that since 52% had voted to leave the EU, he did not want to accept the rules of its single market or its customs union after Jan. 1.
The EU did not want to give unfettered privileges to a freewheeling, deregulated British economy outside the bloc, and so potentially encourage others to leave – resulting in a tortuous negotiation.
“It was a long and winding road,” European Commission President Ursula von der Leyen told reporters, quoting the Paul McCartney song. “But we have got a good deal to show for it. ... Finally we can leave Brexit behind us and look to the future. Europe is now moving on.”
‘Jumbo’ deal
Mr. Johnson described the last-minute agreement as a “jumbo” free trade deal along the lines of that done between the European Union and Canada, and urged Britain to move on from the divisions caused by the 2016 Brexit referendum.
The deal will also support the peace in Northern Ireland - a priority for U.S. President-elect Joe Biden, who had warned Mr. Johnson that he must uphold the 1998 Good Friday Agreement.
EU member Ireland said the deal, which the Commission website said would be published soon, protected its interests as well as could possibly have been hoped.
But it left much of the detail still to be worked out.
The trade pact will not cover services, which make up 80% of the British economy, including a banking industry that positions London as the only financial capital to rival New York.
Access to the EU market for U.K.-based banks, insurers and asset managers will become patchy at best.
Mr. Johnson said the deal did not contain as much as he would have liked on regulatory equivalence for financial services, but still contained some “good language.”
JPMorgan said the EU had secured a deal that allowed it retain nearly all of its advantages from trade with the U.K. but with the ability to use regulations to “cherry pick” among sectors where the U.K. had advantages – such as services.
“The unity and strength of Europe paid off,” French President Emmanuel Macron said. “The agreement with the United Kingdom is essential to protect our citizens, our fishermen, our producers. We will make sure that this is the case.”
Brexit campaigner Nigel Farage said the deal would keep the U.K. far too closely aligned with the EU, adding that he hoped this would be the beginning of the end of the bloc.
Even with a deal, goods trade will have more rules, more red tape and more cost. There will be some disruption at ports. Everything from food safety regulation and exporting rules to product certification will change.
Detail to come
Much of the detail has yet to worked out. A U.S. State Department official welcomed the agreement and said Washington wanted good relations with Britain and the EU, while adding:
“We leave it to the U.K. and EU to negotiate a post-Brexit trade deal that is mutually agreeable and beneficial to both parties.”
When the U.K. shocked the world by voting to leave the EU, many in Europe hoped that it could stay closely aligned. Dr. Von der Leyen, quoting Shakespeare, said that “parting is such sweet sorrow.”
The EU loses its principal military and intelligence power, 15% of GDP, one of the world’s top two financial capitals, and a champion of free markets that had acted as an important check on the ambitions of Germany and France.
Without the collective might of the EU, the United Kingdom will stand largely alone – and much more reliant on the United States – when negotiating with China, Russia, and India. It will have more autonomy but be poorer, at least in the short term.
Sterling was up just 0.3% on the day by 1630 GMT, having earlier risen to $1.3618 – just shy of last week’s 2-1/2-year high on news of the deal, as investors turned to the detail.
The Bank of England has said that, even with a trade deal, Britain’s gross domestic product is likely to suffer a 1% hit from Brexit in the first quarter of 2021. And Britain’s budget forecasters have said the economy will be 4% smaller over 15 years than it would have been if Britain had stayed in the bloc.
British businesses, among the world’s worst hit by the coronavirus, were downbeat.
“After four long years of uncertainty and upheaval, and just days before the end of transition, businesses will be able to muster little more than a muted and weary cheer,” Adam Marshall, director general of the British Chambers of Commerce, said.
The U.K., which imports about $107 billion more a year from the EU than it exports there, had bickered until the end over fish – a totemic issue, but worth less than 0.1% of GDP.
Tony Danker, director-general of the Confederation of British Industry, said time was now critically short.
“Coming so late in the day, it is vital that both sides take instant steps to keep trade moving and services flowing.”
The deal governing post-Brexit trade needs the approval of both European Parliament and the EU’s 27 member states. Ambassadors from EU countries will meet on Dec. 25 to start reviewing the deal. The European Parliament said on Thursday it would analyze the deal in detail before deciding whether to approve the agreement in the new year.
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The British parliament, as divided as the country over Brexit, will debate and vote on the deal on Dec. 30, just one day before the transition period lapses.
This story was reported by Reuters.


csmonitor--2020-12-25--Trump throws COVID relief bill into disarray, shutdown looms

President Donald Trump ’ s sudden demand for $ 2,000 checks for most Americans was swiftly rejected by House Republicans Thursday , throwing a massive COVID relief and government funding bill into disarray .
A rare Christmas Eve session of the House of Representatives lasted just minutes and ended in stalemate .
House leaders are now scrambling to find a solution before lawmakers return to Washington for a new vote Monday .
The crisis arises after the relief and government funding bill won sweeping bipartisan approval this week in the House and Senate .
The relief bill includes unemployment benefits @ @ @ @ @ @ @ aid , including $ 600 checks .
The White House assured Republican leaders that Mr. Trump supported it .
But Mr. Trump is now calling the package a “ disgrace ” and calling for $ 2,000 checks .
Because the relief bill is linked to the government funding bill , Mr. Trump ’ s refusal to sign it could spark a federal shutdown at midnight Monday .
Mr. Trump ’ s decision to attack the bill has been seen , at least in part , as political punishment for what he considers insufficient @ @ @ @ @ @ @ to overturn the results of the Nov. 3 election with unfounded claims of voter fraud .
“ At a meeting in Florida today , everyone was asking why aren ’ t the Republicans up in arms & fighting over the fact that the Democrats stole the rigged presidential election ?
” Mr. Trump tweeted Thursday .
“ I will NEVER FORGET !
” he later added .
The president spent his Christmas golfing in Florida at his Mar-a-Lago club .
The year-end package is the product of months of bipartisan work .
It @ @ @ @ @ @ @ week supplemental jobless benefit , along with a new round of subsidies for hard-hit businesses , restaurants and theaters , and money for schools .
Money is included for health care providers and to help with COVID vaccine distribution .
Treasury Secretary Steven Mnuchin boasted that the $ 600 checks would be in the mail in a week .
Congressional Republican leaders have been left almost speechless by Trump ’ s year-end scorching of their work .
The president ’ s push to increase direct payments for most Americans from $ 600 to @ @ @ @ @ @ @ for couples splits Republicans .
Many have opposed the larger checks as too costly and poorly targeted .
“ The best way out of this is for the president to sign the bill , ” Republican Senator Roy Blunt of Missouri said Thursday .
“ And I still hope that ’ s what he decides.
” Racing to salvage the year-end legislation , House Speaker Nancy Pelosi and Mr. Mnuchin are in talks on options .
Democrats will recall House lawmakers to Washington for a vote Monday on Trump ’ s proposal .
@ @ @ @ @ @ @ on record as supporting or rejecting the $ 2,000 checks , though a vote to approve could be rejected by the Senate .
Another option is a Monday vote on a stop-gap measure to at least avert a federal shutdown .
It would keep the government running until President-elect Joe Biden is inaugurated Jan. 20 .
Lawmakers will also be asked to override Mr. Trump ’ s veto of a must-pass bill to fund the Defense Department .
Associated Press writer Jill Colvin in West Palm Beach contributed to this report .
This @ @ @ @ @ @ @ .

President Donald Trump’s sudden demand for $2,000 checks for most Americans was swiftly rejected by House Republicans Thursday, throwing a massive COVID relief and government funding bill into disarray.
A rare Christmas Eve session of the House of Representatives lasted just minutes and ended in stalemate. House leaders are now scrambling to find a solution before lawmakers return to Washington for a new vote Monday.
The crisis arises after the relief and government funding bill won sweeping bipartisan approval this week in the House and Senate. The relief bill includes unemployment benefits, eviction protections, and other emergency aid, including $600 checks. The White House assured Republican leaders that Mr. Trump supported it.
But Mr. Trump is now calling the package a “disgrace” and calling for $2,000 checks. Because the relief bill is linked to the government funding bill, Mr. Trump’s refusal to sign it could spark a federal shutdown at midnight Monday.
Mr. Trump’s decision to attack the bill has been seen, at least in part, as political punishment for what he considers insufficient backing by congressional Republicans of his campaign to overturn the results of the Nov. 3 election with unfounded claims of voter fraud.
“At a meeting in Florida today, everyone was asking why aren’t the Republicans up in arms & fighting over the fact that the Democrats stole the rigged presidential election?” Mr. Trump tweeted Thursday.
“I will NEVER FORGET!” he later added.
The president spent his Christmas golfing in Florida at his Mar-a-Lago club.
The year-end package is the product of months of bipartisan work. It would establish a temporary $300 per week supplemental jobless benefit, along with a new round of subsidies for hard-hit businesses, restaurants and theaters, and money for schools. Money is included for health care providers and to help with COVID vaccine distribution. Treasury Secretary Steven Mnuchin boasted that the $600 checks would be in the mail in a week.
Congressional Republican leaders have been left almost speechless by Trump’s year-end scorching of their work.
The president’s push to increase direct payments for most Americans from $600 to $2,000 for individuals and $4,000 for couples splits Republicans. Many have opposed the larger checks as too costly and poorly targeted.
“The best way out of this is for the president to sign the bill,” Republican Senator Roy Blunt of Missouri said Thursday. “And I still hope that’s what he decides.”
Racing to salvage the year-end legislation, House Speaker Nancy Pelosi and Mr. Mnuchin are in talks on options.
Democrats will recall House lawmakers to Washington for a vote Monday on Trump’s proposal. A roll call would put all members on record as supporting or rejecting the $2,000 checks, though a vote to approve could be rejected by the Senate.
Another option is a Monday vote on a stop-gap measure to at least avert a federal shutdown. It would keep the government running until President-elect Joe Biden is inaugurated Jan. 20. Lawmakers will also be asked to override Mr. Trump’s veto of a must-pass bill to fund the Defense Department.
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Associated Press writer Jill Colvin in West Palm Beach contributed to this report.
This story was reported by The Associated Press.


csmonitor--2020-12-26--Readers write: Contempt and empathy, mobile citizens, and more

I read the Monitor faithfully and am grateful for the mostly balanced and well-written articles .
Regarding “ A tale of two Janets – and the nation ” in the Nov. 2 Monitor Weekly : I have a “ Janet ” in my life , and reading this cover story deepened my understanding of the legitimacy of her ideas .
Yet I am astounded that immigration was mentioned as an issue in the story , but COVID-19 was not .
I trust neither Janet has lost anyone to the coronavirus , and I hope that continues to be the case @ @ @ @ @ @ @ and have taken care of COVID-19 patients .
It is deadly .
In the aftermath of the election , what better food for thought could there be than Noelle Swan ’ s column in the Oct. 5 Monitor Weekly , “ Is there room for empathy in politics ?
” By sharing examples of compassion shown by earlier politicians , she highlights its absence in the present political discourse .
Sympathizers of President Donald Trump stress their horror at the criticism that Mr. Trump endures .
I believe they see themselves in him @ @ @ @ @ @ @ They deeply feel the sting of being not only ignored , but also belittled by college- educated voters and professional elites like the press .
It ’ s one thing to disagree with someone ’ s opinions , and another to show contempt for that person .
I think that a strong reason why Mr. Trump has attracted so many voters is the disdain shown by liberal figures toward him and his cohort .
Empathy requires the ability to accept and respect those who are not like us .
That ’ s something @ @ @ @ @ @ @ the “ In a Word ” column “ Go ... Nimrods ?
The odd origins of team names ” in the Nov. 16 Monitor Weekly : Melissa Mohr left out the Minnesota Vikings , so named because descendants of real-life Vikings arrived from Norway and populated the state .
Tough people !
Regarding “ What does ‘ follow the science ’ mean ?
” in the Sept. 14 Monitor Weekly : I believe this article did a disservice to readers for two reasons .
Firstly , in contorting the narrative into pretzels in @ @ @ @ @ @ @ ” the writers inflated the conservative talking points about “ freedom ” and “ cost.
” Secondly , the article lacks a full discussion of consequences .
In all decisions , one of the questions should be “ What happens if we get it wrong ?
” Yet the writers didn ’ t ask that basic question of any of the “ doubters.
” The COVID-19 virus is literally a matter of life and death ; it must not be treated as an abstract discussion .
The cover story by Stephanie Hanes , @ @ @ @ @ @ @ in the Nov. 16 Monitor Weekly brought up a couple of questions and concerns for me .
Of what community is the digital nomad a member ?
Where does he vote ?
Does he know enough about local issues to be an informed citizen in local elections ?
Presumably he ’ ll never be called for jury duty .
Citizen involvement – or rather the lack of it – is already a civic problem .
Finally , what is the environmental impact of a 40-foot RV ?

The other side
I read the Monitor faithfully and am grateful for the mostly balanced and well-written articles. Regarding “A tale of two Janets – and the nation” in the Nov. 2 Monitor Weekly: I have a “Janet” in my life, and reading this cover story deepened my understanding of the legitimacy of her ideas.
Yet I am astounded that immigration was mentioned as an issue in the story, but COVID-19 was not. I trust neither Janet has lost anyone to the coronavirus, and I hope that continues to be the case. I’m a registered nurse and have taken care of COVID-19 patients. It is deadly.
Joanna Stull
Waltham, Massachusetts
Contempt and empathy
In the aftermath of the election, what better food for thought could there be than Noelle Swan’s column in the Oct. 5 Monitor Weekly, “Is there room for empathy in politics?” By sharing examples of compassion shown by earlier politicians, she highlights its absence in the present political discourse.
Sympathizers of President Donald Trump stress their horror at the criticism that Mr. Trump endures. I believe they see themselves in him. His humiliation is their own: They deeply feel the sting of being not only ignored, but also belittled by college-
educated voters and professional elites like the press.
It’s one thing to disagree with someone’s opinions, and another to show contempt for that person. I think that a strong reason why Mr. Trump has attracted so many voters is the disdain shown by liberal figures toward him and his cohort.
Empathy requires the ability to accept and respect those who are not like us. That’s something we all need to learn.
Inger Hellstrom
Greenwich, Connecticut
League labels
Regarding the “In a Word” column “Go ... Nimrods? The odd origins of team names” in the Nov. 16 Monitor Weekly: Melissa Mohr left out the Minnesota Vikings, so named because descendants of real-life Vikings arrived from Norway and populated the state. Tough people!
Helen Harold
West Salem, Wisconsin
Science and belief
Regarding “What does ‘follow the science’ mean?” in the Sept. 14 Monitor Weekly: I believe this article did a disservice to readers for two reasons. Firstly, in contorting the narrative into pretzels in an attempt to preserve “balance,” the writers inflated the conservative talking points about “freedom” and “cost.”
Secondly, the article lacks a full discussion of consequences. In all decisions, one of the questions should be “What happens if we get it wrong?” Yet the writers didn’t ask that basic question of any of the “doubters.” The COVID-19 virus is literally a matter of life and death; it must not be treated as an abstract discussion.
Rusty Wyrick
Ghivizzano, Italy
Mobile citizens
The cover story by Stephanie Hanes, “The new digital nomads,” in the Nov. 16 Monitor Weekly brought up a couple of questions and concerns for me. Of what community is the digital nomad a member? Where does he vote? Does he know enough about local issues to be an informed citizen in local elections? Presumably he’ll never be called for jury duty. Citizen involvement – or rather the lack of it – is already a civic problem. Finally, what is the environmental impact of a 40-foot RV?
Howard Hansen
Forest Park, Illinois