It’s Cool to Be Kind: A New Future?
It seems like there’s a lot of bad news stories to be bogged down with at the moment, and it’s easy to feel yourself spiralling when scrolling through news page after news page.
We, as a society, are seeing the worst in people, but we are also seeing the very best. Where there has been a fracture within ‘normal’ society, the kindness of others has rushed to fill it. This kindness, it often seems, can come from complete strangers.
Rainbows were soon popping up in windows in support of the NHS and, while insignificant in the overall scheme of things, went some way to spread cheer and signify hope. At work, I noticed that people were beginning to shop for friends and neighbours, or just taking the time to chat with staff and other customers in the shop. When barely audible mumblings about bags and receipts were the previous norm.
Before long, I was aware that whole villages had set up WhatsApp groups. Communities were coming together to make scrubs and scrub bags, as well as providing food to those who needed it. Those (safely) holding a socially-distanced street party could chat with their neighbours and people on their street – a small act of comfort and community, especially for those living alone.
On my own street, I’ve seen my elderly neighbours again, after not really seeing them since I was a child (it makes me cringe just thinking about that). The thought of knocking on the door the week before lockdown made me anxious, but I also couldn’t just hope that someone else had done it before me.
This kindness has also found its way into our language: emails start with a genuinely-meant ‘hope you’re well’, interactions end with ‘take care’ or ‘stay safe’. And because we can’t talk about holidays or parties or gossip about others, our conversations turn to the everyday, to the small joyous things such as friendships, hopes and wellbeing. While it’s sad to think that it’s taken a global pandemic to highlight issues such as the pay of NHS staff or the perception of the benefits system now that a record number of people are having to access it, I hope that this almost new-found kindness will continue in post-pandemic life.
Having (virtually) spoken to friends and family, I discovered that it wasn’t only my little bubble that was experiencing such compassion. Take Gabby, who cares for the elderly at a care home. She says, ‘We lost one of our residents and it was really hard on us all. One of the helping hands saw how sad we were and brought in chocolates and flowers – it was her first day, and it really cheered us up.’
Molly says, ‘When I had big stress over medication, a mutual friend went out of her way to pick up my medication for me. It was over an hour of driving back and forth for it and I was so grateful.’
Hannah says, ‘When this all first happened, Mum saw a post on Facebook asking for people to join a local help group. They had leaflets where you filled in your contact details and handed out to the houses on your street that basically said: “Here to help if you’re self-isolating”. An older neighbour on my street text me saying thank you, and a few weeks later he rang me asking if I’d be able to get him some things at the shop because he has to stay inside for 12 weeks. So now I ring him every week before I go shopping and get food for him. We also have a big group chat, I’ve delivered some food packages and done some other food runs for others as well. I think everyone is just a lot nicer in these circumstances, we’ve met loads of neighbours we otherwise hadn’t before this pandemic.”
Others, such as those at NHS Cooks, are busy making and distributing meals for those working on the front line. There are groups across Bristol, Bath, Edinburgh, Exeter and Reading. In Bristol and Bath alone, they are feeding hundreds of staff across hospitals and ambulance stations. Money has been crowdfunded to purchase the ingredients, (superseding their initial target) with food also being donated abundantly. Everyone volunteers in their own time.
Essential workers aren’t, therefore, the only ones who can make a difference. You may not be a nurse, delivery driver, shop worker, teacher, carer – but no matter what your job, you can still help.
This is a global issue, so thinking about how to help can feel overwhelming. But if you look after your own patch (yourself, your house, your street) and make sure things are OK there, then things will be a bit brighter. So if you don’t know where to start, knock on your neighbour’s door and start from there.
Written by Sophie Ellis
Sophie is a twenty-something cafe assistant near Bristol and Bath. You can usually find her trying to perfect her latte art and book shopping, but ideally, she's by the beach.