“STOP. STOP. STOP.” Bane shouts over the sound of the industrial fabric cutter as I flip the power switch off as fast as possible.
“You hit the template,” he says calmly, but disappointed.
I wipe the beads of sweat from my forehead and apologize. It’s difficult to use this machine with my less dominant hand, on uneven tables, in 90-degree heat, while wearing a gown and a mask. One more excuse. It’s my first day of training, so I thank him for his patience.
Jay—or as the volunteers call them, “PQ,” or “Pastry Queen”—is the production manager at Gown Town, an operation making Personal Protective Equipment (PPE) in the form of isolation gowns. With help from the City of Boston, Harvard University, GetUsPPE, and Artisan’s Asylum, the new facility at Bay 3 in Lower Allston is up and running with no more than 10 volunteers and Jay’s guidance. We’re here to fabricate gowns for those on the frontlines of the COVID-19 pandemic.
Jay’s nickname derives from their experience as a pastry chef. Conscious of the dietary restrictions of the volunteers, they ask me to grab some cider to share as a post-shift drink. We first became friends through rock climbing at the gym neighboring Artisan’s Asylum, the community maker-space that previously housed Gown Town. Jay was also a youth coach at the gym, which has been closed since March.
When I was a kid, the recreational sports leagues were categorized by age with groups named “Under 10,” or “U10” for short. This band of volunteer PPE makers feels a bit like one of those teams. After a sweaty bout of layering fabric, cutting gowns from templates (I’ve since gotten better), and folding and packaging them to be delivered, we break the cider pack free of its plastic rings and cheers from a distance. Closing my eyes I am transported to a grassy field, damp jerseys, and sharing orange slices with my teammates after a match.
Words + Photoby Samer Khudairi