How to Navigate Uncertainty in the Days of COVID-19
Asking myself tough questions, as a freelance writer in a time of global crisis.
I am a writer from Washington, DC, who’s passionate about amplifying underrepresented stories across TV, film, digital and print. In the age of COVID-19, I find myself at a crossroads in the midst of social distancing and self-quarantining. Having worked as a freelancer for over two years, I’m familiar with a degree of uncertainty. But now the rug has been pulled out from underneath all of us. Consequently, I’m trying to face the changing realities of a public health crisis while bracing myself for the impact of the virus on families, including mine. With fear mongering and misinformation running rampant, it’s easy to feel overwhelmed. Rather than panic, I’m taking pause for introspection and serious questions.
What do I want? What do I need? Those two are recurring themes.
The idea of desire is difficult enough. When prompted last month, during a panel discussion, led by Black Women Radicals, a feminist advocacy collective, I pretty much froze. The event featured other independent writers, gathering a small crowd, at The Outrage on 14th St, NW. We convened in celebration of the author, filmmaker and professor Toni Cade Bambara, who once said that, “The job of a writer is to make revolution irresistible.”
Prior to the event, I denied my own contributions. Though I’ve been writing for my entire life, the title has always eluded me. I was intimidated and felt undeserving of the responsibility. Despite wanting and needing to embrace it, I kept it at a distance for a long time, and assumed peripheral roles: documentary filmmaker, teaching artist, multimedia producer. Recently, I’ve slowly come around to claiming a writer’s life, but that evening I lost my way.
“What would you write about,” one woman asked, “if Black people were free?” My mind went blank suddenly. I felt the anxiety rising, and later, captured the moment in poetry.
The thought confounded me.
How was it that I could not imagine the possibilities,
another reality
beyond the burdens of this world?
Now, in addition to future possibilities, I must confront present necessities. Not only what I require to survive, but what I need, in order to sustain myself through the oncoming wave of unseen forces?
So far, I’ve seized a semblance of control by letting go of expectations and accepting the
new normal. What makes the process more bearable is that I know I’m not alone. Technically, maybe. But in spirit, nowhere close. There’s so much solidarity being shown around the world. People are organizing remotely, providing relief and signal boosting communities in need.
In my city, I’m one of fifteen creatives participating in the 202Creates residency, a three-month entrepreneurial program that offers in-kind resources for the development of individual projects and businesses. Goal-setting is mandatory. (This essay was, too.) Fellows have been asked to consider what we need and what we want to accomplish in the months ahead. But two weeks into the residency and the stakes are totally different.
Initially, I was planning to use the 202Creates office to write and manage pre-production for a multidisciplinary narrative, based on Bambara’s bold anthology The Black Woman (1970) and Toni Morrison’s iconic encyclopedia The Black Book (1974). Catalyzed by the canon of these two radical women, I wanted to collect works of poetry, prose, music and multimedia from across the African diaspora. I also wanted to use their studio in Northeast DC to conduct in-person interviews.
Of course, fate had other plans.
On March 12th, the same night as orientation, Mayor Muriel Bowser declared a state of emergency in DC. Shortly afterward, it was announced that, at least until April, the Spring 2020 cohort would be meeting remotely. I’m curious what will happen in the months to follow. Actually, I’m worried. However, sharpening my entrepreneurial skills feels strangely appropriate.
As a writer in isolation, I must submerge my practice in an undefined virtual space, exploring ways to integrate my voice and meet the moving landscape. The great migration online is also reminding me of meaningful experiences, like RED LINE DC, which now, fittingly, lives in a digital gallery hosted by Google Arts & Culture. Marking my directorial debut, the documentary was a visual examination of gentrification, graffiti and District identity, as seen through the lens of public transit. It began in 2010, as my graduate thesis for Georgetown University’s Communication, Culture and Technology program. Unfortunately, two years into my journey, I had amassed countless hours of footage, massive student loan debt, a Master’s degree and thesis distinction, but not a complete film. I had to pivot. I learned how to budget, multitask and video edit, through trial and error and baptism by fire. I raised funds via Indiegogo and got a grant from Humanities DC, which afforded me the chance to premiere the documentary in November 2014 at Angelika Pop-up at Union Market. I also held free screenings at a handful of public libraries. In honor of the project, the DC Office of Cable Television, Film, Music & Entertainment named me the January 2015 “Filmmaker of the Month.”
This time around, I’m grateful to have a global community and a local cohort navigating the same challenges as me, pursuing the same critical questions of survival and sustainability.
How do we get through this together and stay whole?
For my part, I’m discovering resources to help me withstand the current wave as well as the after effects. This means resisting the draw of dogma and maintaining my mental health by staying connected and remaining nimble, allowing for alternate routes and unexpected detours. (Which in my case, includes filming a Coronavirus webisode with a friend.)
In all honesty, I’m still scared. And I can’t help it. But while sequestered, I’m in good company, surrounded by the work of other writers, both past and contemporary, brave luminaries who light the way through the bleak days of doubt and make revolution so irresistibly sexy. I take solace in the resourcefulness, innovation and empathy emerging in response to these unforeseen circumstances. Creative, people-centered solutions are exactly what we need to see us through the din of desperation and tragedy, in 2020 and beyond.
It’s not just about social distancing. It’s about recalibrating, adapting and conquering. As we forge ahead #togetherathome, we’re all learning. As for me, I’m reimagining what it means to be a writer in a state of emergency.
Saaret E. Yoseph is a writer and multidisciplinary artist. Her work has been featured on HuffPost, The Rumpus, The Root, The Washington Post and The Ethiopian Reporter. Follow her on Twitter via @SaaretSays and Instagram via @SaaretDoes.
