Residents adjust to pandemic

For many throughout the United States and abroad, there is now a new normal thanks to COVID‑19. This virus has disrupted much when it comes to people conducting their daily lives. Commerce, education, recreation and religion have all been impacted. Even the way people sign off on e-mails has changed, with "stay safe" replacing "goodbye."

Changes at home and school
Schools have seen the most dramatic change in their day. Administrators, teachers, students and parents are all adapting, and the worry about how it will all work out is on everyone's mind. For high school seniors the change is extraordinary at a time when the scholastic year is supposed to be a very special time in their life.
Washington Academy senior Taylor Bridges' senior year in high school looked very different a month ago. She has chosen to move on from the sudden change and not wallow in loss but look towards the future. "I pictured going to prom one last time, saying goodbye to my friends the right way, getting my diploma and being able to say that, after 12 years, I did it," says Bridges. "Ever since COVID‑19 began, all of those things started to seem pretty impossible. Everyone has been dealing with this big change in many different ways."
Music and drawing fill her days, as well as preparing for a big step forward in this time of uncertainty. "Last summer, I enlisted in the Marines, so I try to maintain my physical fitness as much as I can while stuck at home," says Bridges. "It's going to take some time to get used to this major shift, but it is necessary to practice social distancing right now to stop the rapid spread of the virus. I'm trying to stay positive, entertained and focused during this quarantine."
Fifth grade teacher and Lubec resident Kelly Woodward is literally taking it minute‑by‑minute as she cares for two children amidst the changes at home and school. She is thankful her husband is finished scalloping -- an extra pair of hands is a godsend -- but Woodward admits she misses her classroom. "Most of all I miss the 'good mornings' and other positive interactions with my class. I miss the jokes and laughter. I miss being able to check for understanding with the whole class. I miss being able to quickly explain something to a student. I miss being able to teach a new concept and seeing the 'Oooh, I get it!' look on their faces. I miss my colleagues. I miss seeing the younger students with their giant backpacks walking down the hallway."

Business adapts and hopes
Businesses throughout the country are closed, and business owners are not only finding extra time on their hands but are worried if their business will be there tomorrow. Betsy and Rob French, owners of the French Cellar, a wine and cheese shop in Machias, having recently shuttered their shop, are taking a different approach.
"In one way, life in isolation is not any different for us in Cutler during winter," says Betsy. "We are used to long, cold, icy days stuck inside with a woodstove. For me, I like a fridge full of food to prep and create meals. Spending time in the kitchen is not a hardship for me. Rob and I now fill our time with games of cribbage and gin or bingeing Netflix."
Many small businesses in the area have adapted to providing delivery, pickup areas and other ways to keep some revenue flowing during this time. The French Cellar, too, will be posting updates via social media on drop‑off services available for customers.

Helping constituents
Government, too, continues much differently than it had a month ago. From state representatives to town clerks, there is definitely a new normal that governs everyone.
"COVID‑19 has changed all of our lives," says Rep. Will Tuell, who lives and now works from his home in East Machias. "I'm probably getting between 20‑30 people reaching out in the run of a day, which is more than I have gotten consistently since the prison closed. A lot of times it's pointing people in the right direction, connecting them with our federal folks and making sure info gets out the best you can. It makes for a long day, as most days are usually 16 to 18 hours, but we truly are in uncharted waters, and it goes with the territory."
State Senator Marianne Moore of Calais knows this crisis is unsettling, yet she sees an opportunity to do her best for both her constituents and the state. "When I arrived to Calais 19 years ago this month, I would never have imagined working from home under a 'stay healthy at home' order because of a virus with 19 in its name!" says Moore.
Just like Tuell, Moore is spending much of her time speaking with constituents and her family when time allows. Both are seeking reelection during this time of uncertainty. "My new normal starts the day with a virtual exercise class; a quick call to a dear friend working from home to check in; then spend the day taking in as much data as I can to stay knowledgeable about the situation responding to questions/concerns of my constituents," says Moore. "With so many Calais businesses shutting down and the reduction of traffic from Canada, the economic situation is a concern. Downtown Calais looks like a ghost town, and conversations now reference essential services, grocery availability and which stores have special shopping hours for the elderly. I have my temperature taken when entering the hospital for a meeting and continually reinforce what everyone should be doing to practice social distancing to stay safe and well."
What does a new normal look like when you are a town clerk in Downeast Maine? "With reduced office hours there is a constant worry of neglecting residents while attempting to ensure all duties are performed," says Machiasport Town Clerk Marcia Hayward. "The office is still open as I and the deputy clerk manage the office on our assigned days. The e-mail has, at the very least, tripled over the past few weeks, and getting through it is a chore."
Hayward is thankful the state has extended deadlines for vehicle registrations, property tax exemption filings and other items, but she still worries about something being missed. "Our contacts at the state level are working from home, and sometimes it's difficult to get questions answered," says Hayward. "After the basics have been completed, we forward our phones to our homes and for the rest of the day accept calls from there. Remote access was recently added, so from here on I can do more from home, and that is a relief."

Home life adapts as well
People are making do with what they have, shopping as time and rules allow or preparing it all at home -- baking is on the rise -- and knitting is more popular than ever. For many people, working from home is now their new normal; if all is well at home, providing for others is the next best thing. Reliance and fortitude are a clear and present certainty Downeast.
Tessa Mellas, children's librarian for Porter Memorial Library in Machias, knows how important structure is for children, and, even though the library has been closed, she continues to bring books and stories along with a little distraction to youth in the area.
"I never expected a pandemic lockdown to feel so busy," says Mellas. "When the library closed, the library director and I started working on separate floors. I worked on shelving projects, grants and online story hours. Now, I've shifted to working at home on online library programming."
As Mellas brings the world to children online with story telling and puppet shows, she is also experiencing the natural world right outside her door. "I walk every evening right before dark and see no one out on the trails -- except three swimming beavers, a startled pheasant, a tiny squirrel," says Mellas. "My three‑legged cat plays the piano and sits with me by the fire. My odd‑eyed cat sleeps on my shoulder at night. I am worried for the people of the world, but this moment feels like an important call for stillness, reflection and taking care of one another, even if it is from a distance. I am trying hard to listen. The world is telling us important things."
Home life is where this unexpected change might be less noticeable. The average Mainer spends plenty of time outside when not working, and, if they are home, life revolves around meals, games and entertainment. Eastport resident Tessa Ftorek and her husband Steve spend a lot of their free time outdoors anyway, but it's the "absence" that is now present in all they do. "I love spending time alone and have no problem with it, but I miss my family," says Ftorek. "I miss my friends. I miss my students. I miss church. I miss ukulele club."
"Thank goodness for technology!" says Ftorek. "Our kids live in California and Alaska, and we try to FaceTime with the grandkids to help keep our relationships alive with them. My mom is in an assisted living facility in Calais. The last time I was able to see her was the day before the stay-at-home order came down. I left bags of goodies with the staff, as they were not allowing visitors. I went to mom's window, and we talked that way. I was happy to see her face, and I know she was happy to see mine. I went to my car and cried. I call her at least once a day, but I know she is lonely, and that makes me sad."
And what is the new normal for a journalist these days? It's speaking with people by phone or e-mail and less about news per say and more about how people are doing. It's driving less to functions and meetings and doing so only if absolutely necessary. It's carrying -- in addition to a driver's license -- a "stay out of jail" letter allowing for travel because of the essential nature of news and information for communities.
This new normal for everyone evolves daily, which can be scary all by itself. This crisis has crystalized a moment that right now screams for the attention it deserves and drives the communal message: "We stay apart, together, so we will get through this, together."