covid diary: day 100

Are there 100 clematis blooms right now? 
Probably, but I'm not counting them.

Every year, for the 100th day of school, at least one of the boys has had to take in 100 of something to help them visualize it. 100 cheerios. 100 legos. 100 paper clips or buttons or pieces of candy. And now here we are at 100 days of me keeping this pandemic times diary. How do I visualize it? As an eternity and also the blink of an eye. A series of very long and confusing days that blend together so much in my mind that without this record, I wouldn't be able to tell you what happened when, or even give an estimate of how long ago that was. Every day seems like a lifetime.

Governor Andrew Cuomo of New York gave his final daily coronavirus briefing today, because after 111 days (clearly New York started really paying attention a little before I did), the state is finally getting some relief. They're reporting their highest numbers of daily tests conducted, their lowest rate of new infections, and their lowest rate of weekly fatalities since the pandemic started. Great job, New Yorkers! But now it's time for the hard, almost impossible work of mourning the dead, digging out of individual and business and municipal and state debt, and—oh yeah—not letting the curve start to rise again.

Are there 111 strawberries in Henry's strawberry patch? 
Likely, but I doubt we can get Henry to count them either.

Meanwhile, 21 other states have case levels on the rise. Those states include Oklahoma, where D. Trump is holding his first rally since the pandemic started. The rally is scheduled for tomorrow, and there will be tens of thousands of people packed into an arena in Tulsa. Each attendee has been asked to sign a waiver stating that they will not sue Trump or the campaign if they catch any illness (gee, I wonder which illness they could be thinking of) while attending the rally. Let's see. Tens of thousands of people, all crammed in together, most of them likely not wearing masks (because FREEDOM, or something), all of them shouting and chanting and making America sick. What could possibly go wrong?

Today is also Juneteenth.

Now, I grew up in Indiana, so I guess a case can be made for why I didn't learn about Juneteenth in school. Except ... I did have a lot of years of American history, and Black American history IS American history. What I learned in school was that the Civil War was fought over "state's rights" more than over slavery. (Which is BF.) I learned that slavery was a Bad Thing, but also that some slaves were treated really well and had very good lives. (Which is also BF. What a crock.) I learned that America didn't "invent" slavery because Africans had been enslaving other Africans long before white people came along. (OK but that form of slavery was often not permanent, and definitely not generational, nor was it on such a horrific scale.)

So no, I didn't learn about Juneteenth in school. I learned about it where I learn about so many things: in a book. I don't have any idea what book, or when I read it, but I do remember at some point when I lived in Chicago reading the word and looking it up online, on my hand-me-down computer with the dial-up connection.

Anyway, Juneteenth. On September 22, 1862, Abraham Lincoln issued the Emancipation Proclamation. In it, he declared that effective January 1, 1863, all enslaved people "shall be then, thenceforward, and forever free." Here's how the National Museum of African American History and Culture describes what happened next:

On “Freedom’s Eve,” or the eve of January 1, 1863, the first Watch Night services took place. On that night, enslaved and free African Americans gathered in churches and private homes all across the country awaiting news that the Emancipation Proclamation had taken effect. At the stroke of midnight, prayers were answered as all enslaved people in Confederate States were declared legally free. Union soldiers, many of whom were black, marched onto plantations and across cities in the south reading small copies of the Emancipation Proclamation, spreading the news of freedom in Confederate States. Only through the Thirteenth Amendment did emancipation end slavery throughout the United States. 

But not everyone in Confederate territory would immediately be free. Even though the Emancipation Proclamation was made effective in 1863, it could not be implemented in places still under Confederate control. As a result, in the westernmost Confederate state of Texas, enslaved people would not be free until much later. Freedom finally came on June 19, 1865, when some 2,000 Union troops arrived in Galveston Bay, Texas. The army announced that the more than 250,000 enslaved black people in the state were free by executive decree. This day came to be known as "Juneteenth" by the newly freed people in Texas. 

Juneteenth is an Independence Day. People celebrate it with food and family, with picnics and songs and games, and also with reflections on the past and hopes and goals for the future. If you want a good primer, do head to the NMAAHC because they've got a good one, complete with recipes and activities. It's worth noting that the NMAAHC was established in 2003, and didn't open its doors until 2016. The path to equality is painfully slow. The museum wasn't open yet when we were in DC, but if we ever make it back there, I would very much like to go there and learn.

I'll leave you with today's statement from President Barack Obama:

On this day in 1865, more than two years after President Lincoln signed the Emancipation Proclamation and two months after the end of the Civil War, the slaves of Galveston, Texas finally received word that they were free at last.

We don't have to look far to see that racism and bigotry, hate, and intolerance, are still all too alive in our world. Just as the slaves of Galveston knew that emancipation was only the first step toward true freedom, just as those who crossed the Edmund Pettus Bridge in Selma knew their march was far from finished, or the protesters of today continue to fight for Black lives around the country––our work remains far from done. As long as people are treated differently based on nothing more than the color of their skin––we cannot honestly say that our country is living up to its highest ideals.

And that awareness isn’t unpatriotic. In fact, it’s patriotic to believe that we can make America better. We’re strong enough to be self-critical. We’re strong enough to look upon our imperfections and strive, together, to make this country we love more perfect. Juneteenth has never been a celebration of victory, or an acceptance of the way things are. Instead, it's a celebration of progress. It's an affirmation that despite the most painful parts of our history, change is possible. So no matter our color or our creed, no matter where we come from or who we love, today is a day to find joy in the face of sorrow and to hold the ones we love a little closer. And tomorrow is a day to keep marching.

Nationwide cases: 2,209,930. Deaths: 118,894.