As the death toll from the pandemic has risen inexorably over the past year, I have become increasingly disturbed by the caveats – age, and the presence of “underlying health conditions” – that are routinely applied.
Paradoxically, amid so much suffering and hurt, grief has become less visible than ever.
I hate to think what it’s like to be young, to have a talent and a purpose, and not to be able to put them to use. We mourn friends, but we should also mourn waste.
Perhaps the only thing worse than submerging yourself too deeply in other people’s sorrow is to not feel it at all, to seal yourself off.
We are backing away from the scale of change that we face, and from the job of resourcing young people to respond with intelligence, imagination and honesty.
Credit: CARLO GIAMBERRESI
This article appears in the 27 Jan 2021 issue of the New Statesman, The Lost