Last Thursday, at 8 p.m. sharp, the whole of London erupted into rampant applause.
It was a joyous sound: wooden spoons clattered on pots and pans like a thousand railroad crossing bells; whoops and cheers rang out through the night. From the safety of their front doors, much of the country sang their praises for the doctors, nurses, carers, and other frontline workers battling an invisible foe.
Beyond this discrete moment of unity, there is still division, however. Anger rippled online as some rightly pointed out that many of those clapping for our carers—a trend that originated in a still-locked-down Italy—would have voted for the very political party that has systematically worked to dismantle and privatize the health service upon which we now so desperately rely. Prime Minister Boris Johnson, who himself is sick with COVID-19, recently stepped outside of 10 Downing Street to arrhythmically clap on camera, to some criticism. Meanwhile, healthcare workers are still desperately pleading for protective equipment, ventilators, and support, rather than a fleeting moment of applause.
Still, videos abound online of nurses brought to tears of gratitude, and doctors walking past windows, moved to embarrassed emotion. This brief burst of appreciation is mirrored in the myriad ways our country has rallied around those working so tirelessly to fight COVID-19. Newly reserved parking spaces are hurriedly being spray-painted outside houses; groceries are being dropped off on doorsteps; and gifts, flowers, and messages of support are buoying workers—not to mention the cases of beer, which are being dropped off at hospitals across the country.
As soon as I heard the kitchen cupboard percussion and the eager chorus take up for a second week, I headed to my doorway once more to lend a hand to the symphony. It might be little more than symbolic, but right now, we need all the positivity we can get.
Words + PhotoLily Waite