I woke this morning to various messages on the street WhatsApp:

  • Who are the older or vulnerable people on the street who may need us? Who is checking in with whom?
  • An NHS worker offering others help, while he himself is being asked to work more
  • A lawyer offering advice
  • Parents offering books and DVDs
  • Neighbours asking the NHS worker how they could take a load off his shoulders
  • A techie neighbour who speaks all computer languages who will help with hardware issues to help us keep our new critical technology tools – and TVs! – in working order
  • Another techie neighbour who will help with social media, A/V software questions so we can stay connected with relatives
  • A neighbour with a car who is happy to run errands for those who otherwise would rely on public transport
  • Messages of generosity, gratitude, acknowledgement, kindness

How cool is it that one street contains such a diverse range of skills and talents. Generosity abounds in this moment. While we may not get to see each other physically, we get to see each other now.

We also get to see ourselves: in a short WhatsApp message, we articulate: this is who I am. This is what I have to offer in this moment.

My husband read the list of Key Workers to the kids last night. It’s a long, long list. I’m not on it. It made me really think about what holds society together. There are several ways to react to not seeing oneself on that list ranging from feeling humbled to left-out to indignant to rebellious. Personally, I noticed all these in my own head in just a fleeting moment:

  • I don’t count
  • I don’t have any helpful skills
  • I’m not good enough
  • What about me?
  • What have I been doing all my life?
  • I’m not relevant
  • I’m not business-critical
  • I’ll show them

Each of those responses is completely understandable – and only a sliver of the range of possible reactions. For a lot of people identity is tightly weaved together with professional occupation. I mean, that’s how I’ve always rolled.

So I looked at my husband and said – not without a good dose of snarky sarcasm in my voice – “Well, every job I’ve ever done is not key to maintaining society.” Then I stopped and looked at the three humans looking back at me. Parenting. Partnering. Those are critical support roles.

I woke up this morning realising that what I do – and what many of us do – is critical to someone. It’s something only I can do – only I can be. It is the glue. It feels almost liberating – another chance to define myself and my contribution to the world.

These are scary, unsettling times, yes, but we are powerful. Our networks are powerful. I’ll be looking to my Book Clubs (how cool is it that we have a therapist in one group), Triathlon Club, class parents, family sub-groups, our street. I’ll be thinking in a new way about what do I have? What can I offer? Generosity is additive. Share who you are. Give what you do. Constraint breeds creativity. Bring it on.