Anonymous case manager for a home for people with developmental disabilities, on quarantine because of the Vaughn High School aide who tested positive for the novel coronavirus I’m on a mandatory 14-day quarantine. I recently got back from a trip, and I have a preexisting condition that makes me susceptible to illness. It’s easy for me to work from home for 14 days, but our direct staff who have more hands-on roles—picking residents up from employment, cooking dinner, administering medications—don’t really have that luxury. We’re in one of those strange workplaces where we do have to put ourselves and our health second.
Anonymous commission-based makeup sales associate at a major department store on Michigan Avenue My job entails using my makeup artist skills on clients, but right now we’re working under a “no touch” policy, which means that I cannot touch or apply makeup to a customer—so basically a makeup artist who can’t actually do makeup. It’s been really challenging. Something that would normally take two seconds to do now takes up 15 to 20 minutes. Most customers have been understanding, but our main problem is that we have almost no customers. Our client base is 75 percent tourist, and with all of the major conventions and things being shut down people aren’t coming in. That hurts our commission checks and we’re really concerned that a lack of sales means that our hours are going to get cut.
We’re taking every [pre]caution possible to be as clean and sanitary for ourselves, and our customers. If you feel healthy, by all means come in and shop. But if you don’t feel like coming in, call us rather than shop online. If you order through a real human, you’re securing their job. If they’re a commissioned sales associate they’ll get a commission for that sale. So that’s the best way you can help. When you go strictly through a dot-com it’s hurting the people around you that need it the most.
On an average day, my retailer has 200 to 300 people working. We’re all trying our best, and it’s a legit ghost town. On a day like today I would have already helped 30 to 40 clients, but I’ve only helped four people. That’s our current reality. We’re all in this together. The most important thing that we can do is support one another, and support our friends.
Christian, go-go dancer at The Lucky Horseshoe LoungeOur entire job relies on close contact with people. Without that, it could be really scary. When I’m onstage, I used to come down to be appreciative and give them a little air kiss on the cheek or whatever. I don’t do that anymore. Honestly, we’re all worried about our livelihood because we can’t work from home. Everything is “the end of March, the end of March.” If it goes to July and August, the summer, and all bars and restaurants are closed—not even just because I work at one, but because of my fucking life—I need the summer. Why couldn’t this have been a December/January crisis?
Noam Greene, lead street-medicine outreach worker for the Night Ministry I work on the street-medicine van. The big thing that we deal with is wound care and ongoing chronic health issues. Typically we help clients all over the city dealing with living outside or at the shelter. We provide free medical care, case management, substance-abuse advocacy, and HIV testing. The clients can come into the van and be treated by the doctors with some privacy. We’re no longer treating clients in the van; we have to treat them outside. We’ve also suspended HIV testing because you would need to be quite close to the person because it’s a finger prick. We also sometimes transport clients to important appointments for their housing or [to a] detox facility, and that’s also something we’re not able to do.
Over the last year, we’ve made an effort to be more transparent about the work we do and the money we need to make a living wage. Talking about money doesn’t come easy; we were raised by good midwestern parents who never did, and came up in an industry where the norm is to project cool and confident success and “the struggle” is only talked about in past tense. So we’re reminding people that we have zines and pins and years’ worth of photos they can order prints of. We do headshots and portraits, and have a fantastic Humboldt Park studio stocked with bubbly water, soap, toilet paper, and booze!
Right now, bands—and the entertainment industry—just need the community that supports them. Last night, we had Jim and Cheryl Mooney from Pittsburgh take us out to dinner. They caught us on tour with Cheap Trick last month, and were going to go to the show last night; as soon as they heard it was canceled they met us at a gas station, they bought our dinner, they brought us snacks, toilet paper, and hand sanitizer, and wrote a nice note. It brought us a beacon of light when we were all really freaked out about how terrible things could be. It really, really made our night. Obviously we need to do what we can to ensure that everyone is healthy—if you’re feeling sick, you shouldn’t be going to large gatherings, and it seems like the best way to prevent this is by social distancing. We decided it’s best if we don’t hit the road for the month.
If you’re planning something in September, let’s start planning now and write that deposit check. Prepare now for the future, we’re here. We just want some work. A friend of mine in LA said, “We’re all gonna need to party after this is done,” and I said, “Remember to hire professionals when you do.
