We're Still Here

Gianna V. Zaro

Everybody has something. A mundane, boringly ordinary something that they took for granted before the year 2020.  For me, that something was tofu.  Sounds kind of weird, right?  Over the past three years, it had become somewhat of a tradition where in the spring, when the weather turns nice, a friend and I would get tofu from our favorite food truck.  We’d sit on the grass and talk about how our school year went, and how relieved we were that it was coming to a close; and that the pressure would lessen, just a bit.  As the weather turns warmer this year, I realize that it is possible that I won’t eat tofu in the grass with my friend ever again.  I still pass the truck sometimes, but my friend, among others, have dispersed from the city to return their hometowns or elsewhere.  Unfortunately, the truck isn’t even open anymore.  It probably closed due to COVID.

 There have been many changes, small and large, on an individual basis that comes with dealing with social distancing rules; but one thing that we all share is a loss of proximity—to family, friends, mentors, and many others.  Despite this, we have found ways to stay connected, and come together to keep our sanity while in new environments that may be difficult to grapple with.  Though we are separated, we are able to use technology to come together to celebrate the little victories with others, even though many of us were suddenly forced to be apart.  The act of communicating the powerful feelings that come with being forced to be alone—and what deceivingly ordinary things we might do in order to cope in these extraordinary circumstances—serves as an excellent way to remind oneself that they are not alone in this.

Inspired by a new wave of “virtual photoshoots”, the portraits were taken over social media applications such as FaceTime, Discord, and Zoom.  A playful energy is generated in these photos using filters from each of the applications.  The participants were also encouraged to show an item or food that they wanted to be photographed with—for example, in one friend’s case, it was a virtual reality headset, since she had really gotten into V.R. since the start of the pandemic—in another model’s case it was her favorite beanie baby, a flamingo named Pinky.  It’s moments like these, where I got to hear about the little things that each of my friends take comfort in, that I found the most joyful.

Motivated by my own loneliness and a feeling of displacement and “wrongness”, I seek to document these times and connect with those who I can no longer see anymore; forming a bridge, or connection, between us through our relating feelings of both joy and sadness.  We can celebrate the highs and chat about day-to-day life while also connecting on the low points.  We discuss what little things got them through an unexampled time, and also talk about our hopes for the future.