Our Changing Views of “Home” in the Covid-19 Era
From insular sanctuary to symbol of our profound dependence on the outside world
Environmental psychologist Clare Cooper wrote in 1974 that the house is a symbol of the self. She observed that the design and decoration of domestic spaces often reflect inhabitants’ feelings about themselves and their unique personal identities. Sociologist Lee Rainwater described the home as a safe haven from external dangers — a kind of shell or insular fortress that affords protection from outside threats. Geographer Douglas Porteous similarly characterized the home as a refuge from the “outrages of the outside world.” These inward-facing psychological functions of home as an anchor of personal identity and security are probably as important today as they were previously, certainly among residents financially able and willing to heed the advice of public health officials now urging them to stay inside to escape Coronavirus infection.
Paradoxically, this time-flattening period of several weeks already confined to our dwellings is clarifying the limits of whatever comforts, self-validation and insularity our homes provide, reminding us instead of our indispensable connections to the outside world. Now that many of us are constrained to our residences for an indefinite period, we yearn to revisit the “second” and “third places” described by Ray Oldenburg — workplaces, bookstores and coffee shops — which in pre-pandemic times offered welcome respite from our “first places” or homes. Enforced separation from outside places underscores our dependence on them in ways that we took for granted before Covid-19, when we were more inclined to view our homes as self-sufficient family enclaves or personalized “cocoons”.
Home dwellers are spending more time now on Facetime and Skype to connect with others online and sustain relationships with family, colleagues and friends who are, themselves, hunkered down in their own residential confines. Absent face-to-face interaction, digital technologies afford vicarious contact with people quarantined elsewhere — and the opportunity to travel backwards in time to savor memories of concerts, travel adventures, and family gatherings stored on Instagram and Facebook. While sheltering at home, we “go” to online birthday parties, fitness classes, lectures, Passover Seders and Easter services on YouTube and Zoom. And though we are using Uber and Lyft less often now, we are ever more dependent on the gig economy given the hours we spend scheduling grocery and restaurant deliveries by Instacart, GrubHub, and Freshly.
Rather than focusing inward on features of our homes that reflect our separate identities, we gaze outward from our balconies and porches in appreciation of health care providers, emergency workers, grocery clerks, and delivery drivers on whom our survival and well-being depend. Every evening, residents of apartment buildings in New York, Vancouver, Rome and other cities pay tribute to the heroic doctors, nurses, and first responders struggling to keep our health care systems afloat even while they are overwhelmed by the tsunami of Covid-19 patients. The pandemic has made us acutely aware of how dependent we are on regional and global support networks and the supply chains that sustain us.
As terrifying as the pandemic is, there is hope that it will trigger longer-term positive changes in society — provided the public can move beyond simplistic narratives of heroes and villains, the cathartic appeal of cable punditry, and the distractions of Hulu and Netflix, to actually confront underlying systemic failures. The health and economic challenges we face today reveal that prejudicial attitudes toward others whose religions, cultures, and financial status are different from our own must yield to the enduring truth that we are all interconnected and need to support each other. Sadly, the pandemic has taken a disproportionate toll on communities of color and the poor, adding another chapter to the American saga of systematic racism throughout our history. The health and well-being of all citizens, from affluent individuals to homeless persons, nursing home residents, and immigrants are closely intertwined. Societies neglect the health of vulnerable populations at their peril. Our homes will never insulate us from outside threats if hospitals, food supply networks, social services and governance systems ultimately collapse under the strains of a global pandemic.
In the U.S. food sector, 3.8 million immigrants make up more than 20% of the workforce and nearly 30% of agricultural and food processing workers. Immigrants also comprise more than 20% of food transport and delivery workers. Yet, the rapid spread of Coronavirus among food workers, many of whom have little or no access to health care, jeopardizes the food security of the entire nation. A dramatic case in point is the Smithfield pork factory in Sioux Falls whose workers account for nearly half of the Coronavirus cases in South Dakota. Cases have surged at meat packing plants in Iowa and Nebraska as well.
In the health care sector, more than 25 percent of physicians in the U.S. are foreign-born as are 40 percent of the country’s medical scientists. We currently face a severe shortage of medical professionals in the U.S. due to the current cap on H-1B visas and discriminatory licensing laws. This shortfall could be redressed by waiving visa restrictions for foreign-born health care workers enabling them to come to the U.S. and travel across state lines to virus hot spots as they arise. The additional immigration constraints imposed by the U.S. Government at this time only serve to exacerbate existing shortages of medical personnel during a deadly pandemic.
As we grapple with Covid-19, we may come to realize how dependent we are on all segments of the population, including foreign-born workers marginalized by our country’s exclusionary policies. We must replace destructive ideologies of nativism and nationalism with an abiding commitment to inclusive governance, international collaboration, and public policies grounded in science rather than ideology.
Though our domestic spaces will continue to symbolize our distinctive personal identities as noted by Clare Cooper some 46 years ago, they are not islands unto themselves disconnected from our broader communities. To the contrary, confinement to our homes during this pandemic crisis has highlighted the vital ties that exist between our personal aspirations and well-being, and the societal networks and resources that sustain them.
