The Age of Anxiety (and other debacles of the 21st century quaran-teen)

This post was intially published on Medium

The dawn of the age of information has come with great strides in the inter-connectedness of the global populous. Never before have we been so close as a global community. Never before have we been so distant from one another.

Leonard Bernstein’s second symphony, entitled The Age of Anxiety, based on W.H. Auden’s Pulitzer Prize winning poem of the same name, is a very unorthodox work in the setting of the traditional classical canon. It features a score for orchestra and solo piano, as well as a six-part outline (following the six sections of Auden’s “The Age of Anxiety”.) Auden’s long-form poem follows four protagonists carrying out their lives in 1939 New York City — during the events of World War II. Though noted for its immense length, the poem breaks down the thoughts and feelings of each character as they share their ideas over drinks in a bar.

Much of “The Age of Anxiety”, and Bernstein’s composition of the same name, blurs between movements, often resulting in some hurried confusion among listeners and readers. The shared brokenness between characters, which is also expressed through Bernstein’s careful attention to tonality, unifies all of the weakened individual voices, highlighting themes of their shared humanity and effort to push forth towards a greater future.

During the unprecedented times we find…jk. I would not use that term in good faith anymore without finding my blood pressure rise as my eyebrows furrow into a sort of half-grimace. It is indisputable that the COVID-19 pandemic has ravaged the way people have traditionally carried out their lives. As in “The Age of Anxiety”, an entire socio-political precedent has been thrown into upheaval, just as the world order was thrown into uncertainty leading up to and following the events of the Second World War. The direness of the global outlook has become even darker during the COVID-19 pandemic. Nationalism thrives during periods of isolationism. Similarly, the shared grief of a nation cries out during these times of crisis.

Few have had to adapt to new ways of going about life than that of students. In particular, students finishing their high school years and entering college during the COVID-19 pandemic have had to make sweeping changes to their learning environment from the ground up — literally. As someone in these shoes, I was extremely fortunate to spend the majority of my first semester of higher education on the campus of Penn State, pursuing a degree in music education. I am very humbled to have been able to have this on-campus experience, even with all of the changes associated with this era. However, I know many people who were not afforded this experience.

To be a full-time student during the COVID-19 pandemic is to truly live in an age of anxiety. The Centers for Disease Control and Prevention (CDC) has stated that “people who are socially isolated from others” may respond “more strongly to the stress of a crisis”, like that of the COVID-19 pandemic. The social isolation of students who have either opted to stay home, or have had to remain at home for their first semester of college has come with immense grief, which has been manifested in a variety of forms throughout this treacherous year. There have been many underlying assumptions about the increase in a negative trend in mental health, as well as rates of suicide. In general, there is little indication of any specific trends in either direction of the spectrum of mental health, as well as the rates of suicide, according to a study compiled by The BMJ. Nevertheless, it is clear that the negative impacts of being isolated in one’s home throughout a school term outweigh any possible positives to be had from this experience.

I have been fortunate to have not lost a loved one due to COVID-19. That doesn’t mitigate the grief of the loved ones of the some 275,000 people that have passed away from this virus (and growing). Whether we as people like it or not, the grief that has afflicted the loved ones of those that have passed away has found its way into all corners of our lives. And for those in my situation, an atmosphere of grief has settled across everything we do in our daily lives. We find ourselves trapped in a perpetual state of nothingness, yet we carry on with our lives all the same; a shared phenomenon across all students trying to figure out the years that will shape the rest of their lives while stuck in a ship named grief that is slowly sinking into a pit of bilge-water. The age of anxiety.

Finding solace in my friends and family has been a foundational part of coming to terms with the realities we face during this pandemic. Our shared grief is able to take a deep breath, and settle on the things that we can control, rather than focusing on things that are out of our hands. This thought has enabled me to keep a positive outlook, even when things have not gone to plan. From attending a virtual graduation ceremony, celebrating birthdays and events over Zoom, and cancelling all concerts for the immediate future, the real-world distraught the pandemic has brought me is immeasurable. The widespread cancellation of activity has wrought havoc across the board. My experience has been a challenging one as a musician adapting to this. Grief finds itself in the everyday activity of picking up my instrument, knowing that I will not have the opportunity to play live music for possibly months to come at the least. Though saddening, the support offered by others in the same position as myself has allowed me to find comfort in the fact that it is out of my hands, even though grief would like to tie them behind my back and blindfold me.

Reflecting on March 13th, 2020 comes with mixed and chaotic memories of a day that shaped a large portion of the year that was to follow. I had just made it to the Pennsylvania Music Educator’s Association (PMEA) Central Region Orchestra festival, and ran through Prokofiev’s 5th Symphony with the guest conductor. Then, the director of the festival announced that everyone had to return home due to this novel virus, COVID-19. Additionally, the Commonwealth of Pennsylvania had just announced that all schools would be required to shut down for a two-week period. My initial reaction was one of, actually, excitement. Like many other people my age, the initial announcement of a temporary school closure came with much anticipation, and even some happiness, although still far from being ideal. However, as those days transpired, the realization that ‘nothing would be the same again for a long time’ began to set in. I came to terms with the grief that would come to set in throughout the summer; something that all of my peers have to experience as a result of the cancellation of activity and the closure of schools. We were faced with a new frontier of learning; the age of anxiety.

For students, adapting to virtual learning formats has been an immense challenge. The age of information has brought our virtual classrooms closer than ever before. Yet, we are further away from one another than we have ever been. In my experience, the process of celebrating a loved one’s birthday over a Zoom call, or holding an end-of-the-year banquet over the video conference comes with a sense of grief that, to this generation, will never truly fade from memory.

The process of interaction with my former high school teachers and current college professors has been…interesting. The lack of face-to-face interaction has impacted my ability to come to know my teachers & professors on a more personal level. This is something absent from conducting classes either asynchronously or through a Zoom presentation. In turn, this has caused a less cohesive classroom experience socially between my peers. While social media allows us to be closer than ever before, we are physically separated further than ever from one another. I think ‘social grief’ has played a large part in the thoughts and feelings of all students of my age as we attempt to navigate the adult world as it comes crashing down from all sides around us. This then comes full circle, as we as students attempt to make friends and form connections at the college level beyond our immediate classmates. The process of seeking out other people and organizations that are of interest to me, or anyone for that matter, is easier than ever before, with everyone and everything having their own space on the internet to call home. We as people are further apart than ever, as we fail to connect more deeply, and more emotionally with one another. We are afflicted with social grief, draining our minds and leaving us with nothing at the end of the day. The age of anxiety.

The prospect of a vaccine to come in early 2021 illuminates the light at the end of the tunnel. But we are still in the storm. The tension that grief has had wrapped around me, and all of us, is slowly beginning to unravel itself. For those who have lost loved ones, it will take time for the grief to subside. Even for those who have not, the settling of the cloud that is grief will take time and patience in order to heal.

When you walk through a storm Hold your head up high And don’t be afraid of the dark At the end of a storm

There’s a golden sky And the sweet silver song of a lark

Walk on through the wind Walk on through the rain Though your dreams be tossed and blown

Walk on, walk on With hope in your heart And you’ll never walk alone”

-Rodgers & Hammerstein

These lyrics speak volumes to me, and have impacted the way I think about this time of my life. Looking back, the amount of difficult situations I have found myself in over this past year has been extraordinary. The truth is that this has been an impact on all of us, to varying degrees. At the end of the day, we all face a mountain of tough decisions, just as the characters in Auden’s The Age of Anxiety do in a time of great turbulence. I am exhausted — grief has exhausted all of us during the pandemic. It is up to us to choose how we react to it and navigate this new world; a world in the age of anxiety.

It’s not always clean and straightforward. But as my mother would say to me, “The world is complicated, Bar. That’s why it’s interesting.”

-Barack Obama