Spring will come again

On March 8, 2021, Justin Trudeau declared March 11, 2021 as “a National Day of Observance to commemorate the people who lost their lives and the significant impacts we have all felt because of COVID-19”. Trudeau’s response to the pandemic, however, is evidently a major factor in the death of some 22,000 people and growing. Writing for the Edmonton Journal, David Staples traced the timeline of COVID-19 response in Canada. Staples notes: “From the start, Canada’s adoption of the WHO recommendations was inconsistent, with Canada following the WHO’s lead against border closure, mandatory quarantine and the mass use of masks by the public, even as other countries like Taiwan, South Korea and Singapore adopted all these measures and successfully slowed the spread of the virus”.

A study conducted by University of Toronto, McMaster University, and Public Health Ontario scientists concluded that the death of around 300 long-term care residents in Ontario alone could have been prevented if the individuals were housed in two-bed rooms instead of four-bed rooms.

In October, this study concluded that ranging 130,000-210,000 COVID-19 deaths in the United States were avoidable. Since February, this number has increased to 40 percent of all COVID-19 related deaths in the US.

COVID has made it clear that the flaws in our system are causing harm to our most vulnerable populations. The situation is dire, and then hopeful, and then dire again. We are stuck in cyclical grief. It feels never ending and it’s easy to become cynical. At this point, the way our government behaves feels like some sort of cruel joke. At this point, it feels like an endless eternity.

But lately, it also feels a bit like spring, doesn’t it?

The weather has been warmer, and the sun shines bright in the mornings. It’s perfect weather to look for Spotify playlists about spring love and maybe open the windows more than you usually do.

The winter has been dark, and long, and immovable, punctuated with worsening waves of COVID-19. Poets always write of spring as a new beginning, a place of hope, and, when things are at their most desperate, we may all choose to believe in the semiotics of changing seasons. The sun sparkling against Lake Ontario is a sign. That the last regular issue of The Strand comes out when the weather starts to get warmer is a sign.

It’s alright to look for arbitrary meanings in mundane things, since there might not be much that <i<isn’t mundane.

So, open your windows and breathe. Drink lots of water. Play your favourite songs. Stay hopeful and aware. Push back against the systems that are hurting all of us. And in doing so, we hope you can find words in this issue that mean something, anything, to you and your journey.