People Who Need People

In 1998, when I was 22, a massive ice storm hit eastern Ontario and Quebec, cutting off power for days. I wasn’t affected by the outages but my best friend, who lived in Ottawa, was. Three years later, the 9/11 terrorist attacks seemed to stop the world. And in 2003, when my firstborn was three months old, a blackout cut Toronto’s electricity for two days.

This cascade of crises, together with my burgeoning sense of responsibility for myself as an adult, and for my young family, made me acutely conscious of the need to be ready for anything. I studied up, stocked up, and became what my daughter calls “a low-key prepper”.

Ever since 2003 I have had on hand a well-stocked pantry, plenty of toilet paper (and tissues and paper towel), extra medication, candles, space blankets, and even a solar radio.

With this kit I've gotten through a few ice storms and blackouts, little crises that lasted a few days. But the COVID pandemic has been the longest and most intense emergency I’ve lived through, and in the spring of 2020 I realized that my emergency plan failed to address something very important: people.

Photo by Priscilla Du Preez

Or more accurately, there was nothing in my plan about relationships — starting with the relationships I have with the people I share a house with, and working outwards.

I live with my husband and two teenagers (and three cats) in a 1450-square-foot, three-bedroom house. It’s close quarters, but we’ve done okay through the pandemic. We treat each other with respect and communicate our needs and boundaries fairly effectively.

I didn’t raise my children with respect, honesty and kindness specifically so that we could survive being confined in a house together for months. But that foundation of trust, respect, and open communication has sure come in handy.

Everybody needs good neighbours

In her book How to Do Nothing, Jenny Odell writes:

Neighbourhoods can be networks of support in situations both banal and extreme. Let's not forget that, in a time of increasing climate-related events, those who help you will likely not be your Twitter followers; they will be your neighbours.

I live in a great, walkable, friendly neighbourhood. I know all my neighbours by name, and I stop and chat to most of them. While, in truth, I haven't leaned on my neighbours for much during the pandemic, they have offered and we have offered back.

I didn't cultivate these relationships with my neighbours in case of a global crisis, but it has been comforting to know who is around, and to know enough about their lives that I can consider them when I have too much of something (say, dining chairs) or not enough of something (like kombucha).

In terms of practical support and advice, my book club's Whatsapp chat has been a lifeline. Our collective relationship is more than a decade old, and that familiarity and trust has allowed us to support each other through quarantines, ethical dilemmas, seedling quandaries, and flour shortages.

Further afield, I'm thankful for my Internet friends, new and old, who are sensible, amusing, and supportive. Throughout the pandemic we've taken turns being overwhelmed, underwhelmed, annoyed, sad, and scared. There is usually someone out there who is resonating on the same frequency as I am, and ready to offer comfort during my increasingly frequent breakdowns.

People in the Plan

So, am I going to add "maintain good relationships with people at various degrees of remove" to my emergency preparedness plan? When I originally wrote this in April of 2020 I thought that was a weird idea, but my thinking has evolved since then.

Hell yeah, I’m adding relationships to my plan. In fact, these days whenever I embark on something difficult I think about who I want to gather around me to help me through it.

I’m planning to move to a new neighbourhood in 2023, and you’d better believe that I’ll be introducing myself to my neighbours as soon as I can. You never know when you’re going to need some sourdough starter, or to borrow a mixer because yours died in the middle of a batch of cookies.

Having good relationships is its own reward, even if there is never another emergency. But this latest emergency has deepened my appreciation for relationships as much more than just nice to have.