By Karen

New York City began to open up last week. So far, only a few changes in how we live. But hopefully some big changes in how we think.

My daily routine is more or less what it has been since March. Wake. Exercise in the den, catch up on the news. Do some work. Listen to Governor Cuomo’s update. Probably good news that it is ending soon. Go for a long walk and maybe some food shopping. (Thanks to those who kept our building operable, supplied our stores with food, and delivered packages and mail all these weeks. It was not easy for you.) Cooking. Cleaning. Working on the devilish puzzle my daughter started, then abandoned. Trying to read.

Pot banging at 7 pm for the health workers seems to have ended. Family dinner is a high point. My children graduated remotely from college and finally came home. A great joy for me but a little stifling for them, especially during our mutual quarantine, now happily over.

The warming weather is lovely—though it makes wearing a mask even more unpleasant! And I was so heartened by the emerging green shoots of normality. Restaurants began serving for pickup, and people clustered in groups of two or three, within a few yards of a newly opened bar, enjoying their drinks on the street--just like a London pub, only very lightly populated. Sometimes musicians played nearby. Evenings were sultry and calm and it was fun to walk around after dark.

Then, of course, came the shocking video of the murder of George Floyd, and the Black Lives Matter protests, which immediately and drastically—and rightly—changed everyone’s perspective. Many protests were nearby--coming from or going to Foley Square or the Brooklyn Bridge or Union Square. All were peaceful and fierce, emblematic of the strength and joy of this city at its best. The family wanted very much to join, but respect for the virus dictated that we support in other ways. 

Two nights of looting were nightmarish. Helicopters hovered loudly all night, sirens rang out constantly, yet gangs controlled the streets, especially in SoHo. The curfew ultimately quieted the looting, but at a price—it was used against peaceful protest as well. Glad when it was lifted.

Afterward, SoHo looked awful, windows and doors covered in ugly boards. But then the artists took over. They painted the boards with stunning images dedicated to Black Lives Matter. SoHo was revived, teeming with artists, young and old, black and white, women and men. They all added to the collection, and animated visitors took photographs of history.

It feels as if the world has shifted on its axis. I hope we are bending the arc.