Melissa Davidson currently serves as a Senior Health and Well-being Director at the Bremerton Family YMCA. She shares her thoughts on the events of the past year and a half and where we are as an association today.
“When you were young and your heart was an open book. You used to say, live and let live, you know you did, you know you did, you know you did… but if this ever-changing world in which we live in, makes you give in and cry…say live and let die.”
Whether you first heard it from Paul McCartney or Axl Rose, this song couldn’t help but make it into my COVID playlist! The crescendo of guitars, drums, a full orchestra, close to chaos with mood swing changing tempos. The unsettling clanging, is that a cowbell? As I write this week fear, frustration, occasionally belligerent mask conversations, and looming change, all continue to play on but the temptation to throw my hands up and succumb to it is not stronger than the connection to my purpose and people. That is not my song.
March 2020 I was in paradise, Big Island Hawaii specifically. There was a slight frenzy during that second week if you were out shopping for TP or some other, end of day’s necessity but I wasn’t. Feeling perfectly content in my happy place… the beach, I focused on recharging. Golden, white, green, or black sand, all glorious, rain or shine. Exploring the coast and sea was my only concern until I learned I might be affected by looming shutdowns. What could I do? I focused on vacation and avoided the news. I may have secretly hoped I’d get stuck there for a moment at least, blissfully preoccupied. I hadn’t imagined the Y being closed upon my return. I got a call while I was boarding my plane, don’t come in tomorrow, we’ll let you know as soon as we do, what will come next. Reality check.
The beginning seemed obtainable, home safely we’d ride out the pandemic. I was lonely but I learned to stay connected through Zoom calls and was able to facilitate a weight loss class from my dining table. As awkward as it was, we didn’t skip a beat with Facebook live classes from home to reach our members in theirs. We found ways to bridge the gap, with phone calls to those we knew to be the most isolated, then onto everyone else. They sounded delighted to hear our voices, I sure was to hear theirs, so many memorable conversations with people that I knew and some that I didn’t. It went on until it couldn’t any longer then the furlough began. Fortunately, the proximity of my home to the branch kept me in touch as I walked and jogged through my neighborhood, regularly running into Y friends. I checked in on staff and members that had become dear to me by phone, sometimes meeting up in wide-open spaces to visit and for occasional walks or picnics; they checked in on me too and made sure I was okay, sometimes leaving treats at my door! A summer of summiting the Olympic Mountains to get perspective with my niece Iris in tow kept my spirit lifted. On trailheads and dirt paths, we ran into more Y friends including her swim team coach Marilyn.
Though I was not in the community center, somehow I still felt united. This year, 2021, the Bremerton Family Y celebrates 110 years of serving our community! It’s an understatement to say that the people in this area survived countless trials over all that time. Throughout two world wars and the great depression, did they also wonder like I do… when will we get back to normal or what is normal now? These folks were not strangers to division, heartache, and suffering, they carried on and tried to make a better world together. Our reader board currently states, “Belonging begins here”. I cannot count how many times I have sat beside or exercised across from someone that has shared how coming to the Y has gotten them through very tough times. A current volunteer this week said, “This Y saved my life.” I can relate, it’s also true for me. First as a member, becoming a part-time staff, and then a full-time career path. I have grown here as a woman, improved as a human, and my life is forever changed for the better.
Elated to be called back by the team that held the ropes tight without a summer break on unemployment - sincere thanks to each of you - I came back to work one year ago, to a whole new team of leaders ready and willing to carry on, amazing allies without a doubt. Sadness is present too as we miss many colleagues that did not return, or have since left. I’m certainly preaching to the choir to repeat the challenges here, but it’s good for my sometimes-fragile mental health to go over it all and see where it goes! Pivoting until we’re dizzy, staggering a few steps to get centered so we may address new rules and needs. Our persistent offering of opportunity to stay healthy in a sick world is appreciated - doesn’t it feel like an honor worth fighting for?
Unsettling changes have propelled us to get outside of our comfort zones, have difficult conversations, and rethink our way of life. Creativity has reigned with attempts to build up hope and spread it. I glance around, privy to some of the heartaches you all have shared, amazed by your persistence, in awe of your dedication. Yes, we laugh sometimes to keep from crying, and sometimes we just have a good, ugly cry, then we slowly breathe in and exhale out. Come what may, we get enough oxygen, even through our masks.
I am truly grateful for my connection to this community, to our enduring team, and the friends and acquaintances that pass through the doors. Gracious smiles of understanding have surrounded us in our work on the front line through the pandemic. Members, current, past, and those waiting to return, YOUR faithfulness is felt, we will continue to be here for you. Fellow staff, whether you are on the floor, in the pool, an office, classroom, or working from home to support, YOU are making the difference! Collectively your motivation, courage, coaching, and care have built up my heart as well as our Y, and given life as people fear for their own. Volunteers, kind donors of resources and time, YOU are each an integral part of how my song plays out as well as setting the stage for the heart songs yet to be written.
I am safe, embraced by a culture that makes it possible to sing or whisper, live and let live instead, and mean it when this world is painfully loud.
PS: I cried the first two times I sat to write this because my heart was so heavy, but taking the time to settle down and look at the big picture changed my tune ;p
Melissa Davidson