1
250
12
-
https://omeka.madisonpubliclibrary.org/files/original/3456962a08172cb38d36889f8ba97b3c.mp3
4968d8dcee8e7737d2e65efd8c2c9754
Dublin Core
The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/.
Title
A name given to the resource
Recollection Wisconsin
Sound
A resource primarily intended to be heard. Examples include a music playback file format, an audio compact disc, and recorded speech or sounds.
Original Format
The type of object, such as painting, sculpture, paper, photo, and additional data
Sound recordings
Duration
Length of time involved (seconds, minutes, hours, days, class periods, etc.)
00:05:02
Transcription
Any written text transcribed from a sound
Identifier: covid19-018<br />Narrator Name: Darian Wilson<br />Interviewer Name: n/a<br />Date of interview: 4/1/2020<br /><br />[START OF RECORDING]<br /><br /><br />Darian Wilson: Anyone who knows me knows that my first real love was music—is music, still to this day. I tell people all the time, if I had a musical bone in my body, if I had any musical talent whatsoever, y’all would never be able to find me because I’d be globe-trotting, hopping all over the place. Even if I was a struggling, starving artist, I’d be all over the globe just playing music, because I just love it so much.<br /><br />The earliest memory I have of that love is—my mom had this old-timey, antique jukebox that she kept on our kitchen countertop as a kid growing up. It was just a small novelty thing, I don’t know where she got it from; I don’t know where it is now (I wish I knew; I probably would have kept it), but it was a penny—it cost a penny to play a song; it had like three hundred song options in it and it just fit on our countertop. I remember, vividly, days upon days upon days of searching my whole house, my neighborhood, for pennies so I could play songs on that, because mom didn’t give us pennies. She was like, “If you want to listen to music, you got to find your own money.” (laughs) And so I would, like, scour the neighborhood for pennies, and I remember putting them in there, listening to music while my mom would, oftentimes, be in the kitchen cooking. Cooking was one of her passions, and music was mine, and I didn’t know the age, but it would become one of mine.<br /><br />It was the first memory I have of music being a vital part of my life—just being able to sit in a room with my mom. We didn’t always see eye to eye, but that was one of the few times where we were able to just vibe. We were both in our element—she was cooking, and I was dancing and singing, and even if I didn’t even know what the songs were—I couldn’t tell you what the songs were; if I heard them now I probably wouldn’t enjoy them, but it was something about that moment and being in those elements that made it so powerful.<br /><br />In these trying times of self-isolation and quarantines, and—just—crazy shit all over the world, I’m finding some solace in music again. Particularly being able to share my passion of music with my kids. I have two young sons: Rashad, who is almost nine months old, and Amari, who is going on four in a couple of months now. I haven’t been able to be a part of their life the way I want to because of my career. I work after-school programming, so for the most part I was getting home at nine o’clock every night the last five years of my life. Kids asleep, wife asleep when I get home; I just plop on the couch, watch some sports, but now that schools are closed and all these after school programs are closed, I’m getting to come home—stay home (laughs)—and just be with them all day, and it’s been invigorating in a sense. It’s been frustrating, because they’re kids and they drive you crazy, but it’s been really invigorating, and the main source of that invigoration has been music. It’s been my son, particularly my oldest son Amari, falling in love with music the same way I did, by sharing it with my mom, and him sharing it with me.<br /><br />So every day during our school day—we have a homeschool schedule, loosely, where for about an hour to an hour and a half, he gets to pick records out of my record bin, and put them in our record player, and seeing the joy that he has, watching me get up and dance with him and be silly with him, and sing these songs, and basically turn our living room into our own very personal concert stage, where he’s off doing his own dancing thing and wiggling around, and I’m singing these songs, and putting on the performance I wish I could do in real life.<br /><br />He just has fallen in love with music and it’s been so, so awesome to watch. Awesome to just see him pick these records—he doesn’t know anything about them in the same way that I didn’t know anything about my mom’s jukebox. He picks records based on the color on the cover, he doesn’t even know the artist, he doesn’t know anything of the songs. He’s heard a few of them now so he knows a few of them by name, but for the most part he knows nothing about them and he picks one and he just listens to the music and he listens to the beat, and we practice drumming, and we dance and we sing, and we just—for an hour and a half we are able to forget all the craziness in the world, and we’re able to forget that he’s not in school and I’m not at work and we’re able to just have a blast with each other, and it’s something that I know that when this is over it’s something that I’m going to cherish for a long, long time.<br /><br /><br />[END OF RECORDING]
Dublin Core
The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/.
Title
A name given to the resource
COVID-19 story by Darian Wilson, 2020
Subject
The topic of the resource
Music
Childhood and youth
Jukeboxes
Pandemics
Parenthood
Family relationships
Rights
Information about rights held in and over the resource
Copyright 2020, Darian Wilson. All rights reserved. For more information, contact Madison Public Library.
Creator
An entity primarily responsible for making the resource
Wilson, Darian
Date
A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource
2020-04
Description
An account of the resource
Darian Wilson describes his early childhood love of music, and how during the social distancing efforts in Madison, Wisconsin, he is able to revisit that love of music and share it with his children. <br /><br /><em>This story was originally recorded and shared as part of an episode of the Madison podcast Inside Stories. Listen to that episode and subscribe to the podcast here:<a href="https://inside-stories.simplecast.com/episodes/inside-stories-covid-19-stories-2">https://inside-stories.simplecast.com/episodes/inside-stories-covid-19-stories-2</a></em>
Coverage
The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant
Madison, Wisconsin
Language
A language of the resource
en
Identifier
An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context
covid19-018
Contributor
An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource
Colleen Glaeser
Victoria Kemnetz
cat-inside_stories
covid19
covid19-018
-
https://omeka.madisonpubliclibrary.org/files/original/b60219e42332ba7880bc281f2b0246a7.mp3
754ca562752b84ab8c1a6feefc266914
Dublin Core
The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/.
Title
A name given to the resource
Recollection Wisconsin
Sound
A resource primarily intended to be heard. Examples include a music playback file format, an audio compact disc, and recorded speech or sounds.
Original Format
The type of object, such as painting, sculpture, paper, photo, and additional data
Sound recordings
Duration
Length of time involved (seconds, minutes, hours, days, class periods, etc.)
00:04:29
Transcription
Any written text transcribed from a sound
<p><span style="font-weight:400;">[START OF RECORDING]</span></p>
<br />
<p><span style="font-weight:400;">Marisol González: When I heard the news of the coronavirus, I thought it might be related to the Corona Mexican beer, to be honest, since a couple years ago there were videos and information floating around about the contamination of the 7 Up soda pop that was killing people. </span></p>
<br />
<p><span style="font-weight:400;">Anyway, when I paid attention and understand what was really going on, my first thought was, “What a great opportunity!” and I made up a list of all of the things I wanted to do this quarantine. For example: read, write, watch the movies that I always wanted to watch, take naps, cook new recipes, take baths with a glass of wine, do Zumba, yoga, meditation, paint, crafts, learn how to sew on the sewing machine, and many more ideas. I was very excited to start this quarantine. </span></p>
<br />
<p><span style="font-weight:400;">But I forgot one very important detail: the whole family will be in quarantine, too. That means goodbye to my list of things and expectations, because the kids will demand my attention twenty-four hours a day. Plus, the explosions of emails from teachers, principals, school districts, coworkers, clients, friends, and the latest news. That was too much. Everywhere I looked, there was something about the coronavirus. I felt so much anxiety and pain in my neck. </span></p>
<br />
<p><span style="font-weight:400;">But I tried to be positive, and I got a new idea. This was something I wished to do for a long time: My big opportunity to homeschool my kids! So I made a list of the expectations of what our homeschooling would look like. Although the reality was very different than what I expected. The first day, the cable of my laptop was lost. So the kids fought to share my husband’s laptop. I put my house upside down to find the stupid cable, and after half of the day looking, I did find it. But the laptop wasn’t working. The kids did very little schoolwork that day. The second day, my son’s Google classroom wasn’t working, and I spent half of the day sending emails to his teacher. So we ended up just reading some books. </span></p>
<br />
<p><span style="font-weight:400;">The following day, it seems like all of the technology was working for my kids, but definitely, this wasn’t the kind of homeschooling I was expecting. Looking at my kids immersed in the screens doing schoolwork makes me sick. Right when my daughter started calling me “Maestra Marisol,” I said, “Forget about this way of homeschooling! And let’s do it </span><i><span style="font-weight:400;">my </span></i><span style="font-weight:400;">way. And please, just call me Mom.” So we start our math class by making empanadas. After that, let’s learn science and nature. We went outside on our bikes while it was raining, and splashed in some puddles. Then social studies! Geography and history! Let’s do a tea party with all of the stuffed animals, and talk about kings and queens, castles and royalty. Where do they live? How do they get their wealth? It was fair? What about gym class? Well, we went for walks, and my daughter figured out how to use a metal bar from the shower to hang like a monkey. I feel very proud and tired. </span></p>
<br />
<p><span style="font-weight:400;">Thank goodness this week is spring break. And since the Mexican Corona beer has nothing to do with the coronavirus, I’m planning to enjoy some of them with lime and salt.</span></p>
<br /><br />
<p><span style="font-weight:400;">[END OF RECORDING]</span></p>
Dublin Core
The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/.
Title
A name given to the resource
COVID-19 story by Marisol González, 2020
Subject
The topic of the resource
Parenthood
Family relationships
Quarantine
Pandemics
Rights
Information about rights held in and over the resource
Copyright 2020, Marisol Gonzalez. All rights reserved. For more information, contact Madison Public Library.
Creator
An entity primarily responsible for making the resource
González, Marisol
Date
A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource
2020-04
Description
An account of the resource
Marisol González describes her idea of what quarantine / Safer at Home would look like: the opportunity to learn new things, practice meditation, yoga, and other activities. Marisol shares a humorous view of what she thought or hoped homeschooling her children would be like, and the reality of managing technology and communication with school and work at a distance.<br /><br /><em>This story was originally recorded and shared as part of an episode of the Madison podcast Inside Stories. Listen to that episode and subscribe to the podcast here: <a href="https://inside-stories.simplecast.com/episodes/inside-stories-covid-19-stories-1">https://inside-stories.simplecast.com/episodes/inside-stories-covid-19-stories-1</a></em>
Coverage
The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant
Madison, Wisconsin
Language
A language of the resource
en
Identifier
An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context
covid19-019
Contributor
An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource
Glaeser, Colleen
Witkins, Romelle
cat-inside_stories
covid19
covid19-019
-
https://omeka.madisonpubliclibrary.org/files/original/90a9ecfc24420fcc56dd01e1ede821d1.mp3
b0c8d523bab0124a196df6ddd173b7aa
Dublin Core
The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/.
Title
A name given to the resource
Recollection Wisconsin
Sound
A resource primarily intended to be heard. Examples include a music playback file format, an audio compact disc, and recorded speech or sounds.
Original Format
The type of object, such as painting, sculpture, paper, photo, and additional data
Sound recordings
Duration
Length of time involved (seconds, minutes, hours, days, class periods, etc.)
00:08:53
Transcription
Any written text transcribed from a sound
[START OF RECORDING]<br /><br />Simon Rosenblum-Larson: It was March thirteenth, and I woke up early, nervous. I always do on the first game day of the year, but this one was a little different. I got a text the night before from our farm director. I wasn’t suiting up for the backfields by the Harley dealership. I’d be riding the bus with the big-league club to Fenway Park South in Fort Myers, Florida, for a Spring Training game against the 2018 World Series Champion Boston Red Sox.<br /><br />It’s now April eighteenth, and I haven’t seen the mini-monster, the Florida replica of the famous left-field wall in Boston. I haven’t heard the roars of the crowd, or felt the adrenaline rush I get running from the bullpen to the mound. That March thirteenth morning, I got another message. “The previews showed up. MLB has suspended…”<br /><br />We’d heard rumblings, but tried not to pay it any mind. Rumors went around about a Pirates player diagnosed with COVID. And then there was talk of a Yankees player. I clicked the full message. “All clubs are directed to suspend Spring Training immediately. We will update shortly on whether players will stay in Florida or be sent home.”<br /><br />My performance-day nerves became just plain confusion. Where was I going to go? Who would I stay with? Would I have to get on a plane? Had I already been exposed? I have asthma; am I high risk? Is baseball a superspreader? I steadied myself, trying not to get swept up in the whirlwind. I have a support network. I have family that would open their doors to me if I needed it. I was incredibly lucky in comparison to some of my teammates, like the guys on their own from Venezuela or the Dominican Republic.<br /><br />I guess this is a good time to introduce myself. My name’s Simon Rosenblum-Larson. I’m a Madison native, a West grad, and a professional baseball player with the Tampa Bay Rays. I left college for this. Instead of a Senior year, robes, and a diploma, I’ve spent the last two years in glowing stretch uniforms with oversized mascots, and I’m working my way up in what’s called The Farm. I’ve done every level of Single-A. I was going into Spring Training with the goal of breaking camp with the Double-A Montgomery Biscuits. You’ve heard of bonus babies and big contracts for pro athletes. That’s not my crowd.<br /><br />Three-quarters of minor leaguers made less than $10,000 last year. None of us are paid for spring training, because the law says it’s a tryout. Most guys pay for their own equipment, housing, and off-season training. Nearly half of the seven thousand minor leaguers are from Latin America, most from the Dominican Republic or Venezuela. Many of these guys support two, four, six other family members on their paychecks.<br /><br />Getting sent home means more than just not getting to play ball. In the minor leagues, a paycheck doesn’t come until the season starts. In spring training you get housing, two meals a day, and fifteen dollars for dinner, but cooking in the hotels is a capital offense. In that fantasy, come April ninth, minor league opening day, we’d start getting paid. The first paycheck would come through a couple weeks later. But, now what? The whole world felt upside-down.<br /><br />The day before, we’d seen five thousand fans in Port Charlotte Stadium. I was ready to hear their cheer. Now we’re handed plane tickets back home and a few bucks for our luggage. I wasn’t sure where I would go. I had the good fortune of a host family in spring training. They were part of the booster club for the team I’d played for the summer before, and my Dad had even stayed with them on a trip down. They invited me to stay there as long as I wanted, but, given the team shutdown, I felt like I should probably leave.<br /><br />Where to? I don’t know. I had spent the winter in Boston, living on my college roommate’s couch; couldn’t go back there because he’s immunocompromised. My Dad, caring for my ninety-four-year-old grandma, couldn’t take me in because of the risk to her. My aunt and uncle in Madison invited me to stay with them, but I wasn’t sure I wanted to leave—going home meant cold weather, no access to training facilities, nobody to play catch with. But it did mean a little family, and a little sense of home, in a traumatic moment.<br /><br />The first two days after the shutdown, I spent hours and hours on the phone, texting and talking. I happen to run a non-profit that helps low-wage players before we added Covid-19 to our vocabulary. It’s called More than Baseball. When you’re living the dream, it’s sometimes hard to remember that there is anything other than baseball.<br /><br />That week I spend eight to nine hours a day calling players, gathering information on all thirty teams’ plans for their players. Once we found out that none were getting any pay from their teams, we circulated a petition. Five hundred minor leaguers, among the most self-sufficient, independent and hard-headed guys on the earth, signed on and asked for help—financial support. Players started coming to us looking for help with groceries, with training equipment, paying for rent. Many were in pretty tough spots.<br /><br />Lo and behold, about a week later, MLB—that’s Major League Baseball, the feudal lord of The Farm, Minor League Baseball—had heard us. They announced they would be providing a stipend to all minor league players, up to April ninth, $400 a week. This news came as I trekked back to Wisconsin, on a twenty-nine dollar, one-way plane ticket from Fort Myers to O’Hare. Dad picked me up, and made me ride in the back seat of his compact, windows down even on a freezing night, because his doctor friends had told him that’s how you avoid the virus from an exposed group like baseball teams. He even brought a change of clothes so I wouldn’t be wearing the clothing I had on the plane.<br /><br />When I arrived safely in Madison, I holed myself up in my aunt and uncle’s guest room, trying to avoid infecting them with anything I might have picked up on my travels. Over the next fourteen days, I got back on my endless calls with More than Baseball, and we picked up right where we left off. Groceries, fundraising. We raised nearly eight thousand dollars and gave it away to 113 minor leaguers for their groceries. We scored our first big donation from a famous big leaguer, a Saint Louis Cardinal named Adam Wainwright. He gave $250,000 to distribute to Cardinals minor leaguers. Then $100,000 came in from Colorado Rockies star Daniel Murphy to distribute it to players who need it league-wide.<br /><br />Quarantine, for me, meant ten-hour workdays. But no one knew when we might be called back to camp, and, truthfully, you have to be ready to perform. Baseball bodies built to throw a ball ninety miles an hour don’t do well with a couple of dumbbells and a field to run around. It would take a little creativity to stay in shape. For my arm, I needed a bucket of balls and a fence. One of my closest friends from West High had a big bucket of torn-up old batting-practice balls in his garage. He left those outside for me as I said “Hi” from a safe distance.<br /><br />Up next was weight-lifting equipment. For a week, I taped a broomstick to use as a barbell, and filled two old cat litter containers with sand for weights. My uncle mentioned he had a bunch of extra two-by-fours and a wall in the basement he’d be game to turn into a home gym. With about ten hours of work and a whole lot of sawdust, we turned out a brilliant, height-adjustable squat rack. An old baseball coach and family friend left me a barbell and weights on his front porch, with Lysol wipes to sanitize them, of course.<br /><br />Once both of those were set up, I hit a groove. Work, lift, throw, work, sleep, repeat. The Rays check up on me twice a week, asking the four questions, almost like Passover. “How are you feeling? How much do you weigh? How many times a week are you throwing? How far are you throwing?” I’m trying to enjoy this downtime. It’s rare to get any in mid-April. But looking around, I see a whole bunch of people torn away from things they love. Sports might not be essential, but they do feel irreplaceable.<br /><br />Personally, I faced a little crisis of meaning at the beginning of all this. The world is full of essential workers—nurses, doctors, people who deliver your food. And baseball is really just a luxury we can live without. What have I left college early for, anyway? Every day, in my job, I’m party to the challenges the game presents—the cutthroat business side, the sacrifices many players make, spending precious time away from their families. Hell, I gave up any semblance of stability in my own life to chase a dream. Ninety percent of minor leaguers never taste the show. They give up so much for their one-in-ten shot.<br /><br />After a little reflection, a good dose of existential panic, and a little inspirational reading, there’s a Mandela quote that stuck with me: “Sport has the power to change the world. It has the power to inspire. It has the power to unite people in a way that little else does. It speaks to youth in a language they understand. Sport can create hope, where once there was only despair. It’s more powerful than governments in breaking down racial barriers. It laughs in the face of all types of discrimination.” <br /><br />If nothing else, I hope it’s a rallying cry to get us on the field as soon as safely possible. It might not be essential, but the world sure as hell could use us.<br /><br />[END OF RECORDING]
Dublin Core
The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/.
Title
A name given to the resource
COVID-19 story by Simon Rosenblum-Larson, 2020
Subject
The topic of the resource
Minor league baseball
Pandemics
Social distance
Rights
Information about rights held in and over the resource
Copyright 2020, Simon Rosenblum-Larson. All rights reserved. For more information, contact Madison Public Library.
Creator
An entity primarily responsible for making the resource
Rosenblum-Larson, Simon
Date
A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource
2020-04
Description
An account of the resource
Simon Rosenblum-Larson shares a story about his experience as part of a minor league baseball team when the season was suspended due to the COVID-19 pandemic in spring 2020.<br /><br /><em>This story was originally recorded and shared as part of an episode of the Madison podcast Inside Stories. Listen to that episode and subscribe to the podcast here: <a href="https://inside-stories.simplecast.com/episodes/inside-stories-covid-19-stories-4">https://inside-stories.simplecast.com/episodes/inside-stories-covid-19-stories-4</a></em>
Coverage
The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant
Madison, Wisconsin
Language
A language of the resource
en
Identifier
An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context
covid19-020
Contributor
An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource
Jane Wolff
cat-inside_stories
covid19
covid19-020
-
https://omeka.madisonpubliclibrary.org/files/original/9cacf3179dd7a0e6324a957db962f9d5.mp3
ae860065ff265d8a26ba9e15df3bd036
Dublin Core
The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/.
Title
A name given to the resource
Recollection Wisconsin
Sound
A resource primarily intended to be heard. Examples include a music playback file format, an audio compact disc, and recorded speech or sounds.
Original Format
The type of object, such as painting, sculpture, paper, photo, and additional data
Sound recordings
Duration
Length of time involved (seconds, minutes, hours, days, class periods, etc.)
00:05:08
Transcription
Any written text transcribed from a sound
Identifier: covid19-021<br />Narrator Name: Coburn Dukeheart<br />Interviewer Name: n/a<br />Date of interview: 4/7/2020<br /><br />[START OF RECORDING]<br /><br />Coburn Dukeheart: On Tuesday, April seventh, I woke up at 5:30 a.m. in Door County, Wisconsin, a rural and scenic part of the state, to start a three-hour drive to Milwaukee to photograph the controversial primary election. Health experts called in-person voting “dangerous,” but the process went forward despite the governor’s best effort to call it off the day before. <br /><br />I’m a photojournalist for Wisconsin Watch, a nonprofit investigative journalism center with the mission to protect the vulnerable, expose wrongdoing, and explore solutions. Even though it was still early, my phone was exploding with reports of crazy long lines at Milwaukee’s five polling places, reduced from the usual 180. People of color, students, and the elderly have historically had a harder time voting in Wisconsin, and this pandemic would make it even more challenging.<br /><br />The view from my car turned from country road into highway, and eventually into Milwaukee’s cityscape, with its narrow streets. I met my colleague Lauren at Washington High School, where the midday line stretched the length of a playing field and snaked around a corner. We launched a drone and captured an astounding scene: voters, most of them wearing masks, trying their hardest to stand six feet apart while shuffling slowly down the long block. <br /><br />When I had left that morning, it was in the forties and overcast, but when I got to Milwaukee, the temperatures were in the high seventies. I was still wearing my winter boots, and felt a bit warm, but with a t-shirt, a lightweight paper mask, and the sun on my face, I was feeling good. That first part of the day was fun and exhilarating as we flew the drone back and forth along a chain-link fence to capture the extent of the line.<br /><br />From there, we traveled to Riverside University High School, where we found an even longer line of voters that wrapped around the school, down the block, across a park, and into a nearby neighborhood. Enjoying the warm weather, most of the voters seemed in good spirits, and so were we. Rock music blared from a nearby house, and jazz musicians played on the school’s steps. A pizza guy passed out free pies ordered by someone named Esther.<br /><br />From Riverside, we drove about twenty minutes to Marshall High School. Just as we arrived, a massive downpour soaked hundreds of voters. Poll workers passed out garbage bags to try to keep them dry. We switched to taking portraits, and I swapped out my simple mask for an N-100 leftover from a home construction project. I was closer to people now and wanted to make sure I was as safe as possible. Lauren interviewed the voters. Most described themselves as having never missed an election. Many had requested absentee ballots that never arrived. Most people thought in-person voting should have been cancelled.<br /><br />Around 7 p.m., I noticed that my mouth was feeling dry, and I was having trouble talking and forming coherent thoughts. I kept pushing myself to take more portraits, knowing that I wanted at least ten solid images that represented the diversity of the people in line: Black. White. Asian. Young. Old. Masked. Unmasked. I kept telling myself: “Three more.” “Two more.” “One more.” But when I finally made a portrait of a family with an eighteen-year-old son who had come to vote for the first time, I knew I could stop. That’s when I noticed I really wasn’t feeling right. The hot weather, the winter boots, carrying a backpack of heavy gear, the lack of water, not enough food, the heavy mask, and shooting in five locations all of a sudden came crashing down on me. A person was passing out bottled water and I slammed one down. Then I stumbled back to my car and found a peanut butter snack bar, which I hurriedly ate, drank the rest of my water, and then lay my head back to try to stop the shaking and dizziness. I spotted a pizza shop employee passing out slices to people waiting to vote from their cars. I rolled down my window and called him over. With blue-gloved hands, he pulled off two slices. I inhaled them.<br /><br />I returned to the high school around 8:40 p.m. The line still stretched farther than I could see in the dark. Any voter in line by 8 p.m. would get to vote. When I ventured inside, what I saw more resembled a field hospital than a polling place. And there were a lot of people there—far more than I was comfortable being close to. It was organized, and orderly, but still very crowded. I stayed until the last voter walked in the door around 9:30 p.m. I got my squirt of hand sanitizer and I left to see a line of cars still slowly inching their way around the block, waiting to vote. <br />Throughout the day, I was struck by the poise, politeness, and professionalism of the poll workers and the voters. It was hot. There was a downpour. People waited for hours wearing constricting masks. Yet everyone seemed patient and determined to ensure each vote counted. I heard just one slightly raised voice all day. A woman instructed a man next to her, “Please, stay six feet away; you are getting too close!”<br /><br />We’ll know soon whether the virus spread during the election. I’m praying that the masks, plexiglass shields, and cones keeping voters apart actually worked. Until then, I’m glad I was there to document the historic scene, and I have a few more days to go before I know if I was exposed to the virus, too.<br /><br />[END OF RECORDING]
Dublin Core
The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/.
Title
A name given to the resource
COVID-19 story by Coburn Dukehart, 2020
Subject
The topic of the resource
Photojournalism
Elections
Voting
Pandemics
Social distance
Rights
Information about rights held in and over the resource
Copyright 2020, Coburn Dukehart. All rights reserved. For more information, contact Madison Public Library.
Creator
An entity primarily responsible for making the resource
Dukehart, Coburn A.
Date
A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource
2020-04-07
Description
An account of the resource
Coburn Dukehart shares a story about the experience of working as a photojournalist during the primary election in Wisconsin on April 7th, 2020, during the period of social distancing efforts in Wisconsin.<br /><br />See Coburn's photo essays from April 7th, 2020 here:<br />
<ul>
<li><a href="https://urldefense.proofpoint.com/v2/url?u=https-3A__www.wisconsinwatch.org_2020_04_countryside-2Dto-2Dcity-2Djourney-2Dwisconsin-2Dpandemic-2Delection_&d=DwMFaQ&c=byefhD2ZumMFFQYPZBagUCDuBiM9Q9twmxaBM0hCgII&r=b26qx40eb8v_TvxTMXE6gHTdVJUP8SMgoUvpekQwROCbc-noosOrzrFTxcQkYgG9&m=lbw00z4GtAwNhJE4NuI0Hmx4-Qcseguy4hr9J0FsUgg&s=UDNK4-A8LFCOdEjDgtNzgSel6nrZls7IOK6Uh-PRi-8&e=">https://www.wisconsinwatch.org/2020/04/countryside-to-city-journey-wisconsin-pandemic-election/</a></li>
<li><a href="https://urldefense.proofpoint.com/v2/url?u=https-3A__www.wisconsinwatch.org_2020_04_pandemic-2Dportraits-2Dmilwaukee-2Dvoters_&d=DwMFaQ&c=byefhD2ZumMFFQYPZBagUCDuBiM9Q9twmxaBM0hCgII&r=b26qx40eb8v_TvxTMXE6gHTdVJUP8SMgoUvpekQwROCbc-noosOrzrFTxcQkYgG9&m=lbw00z4GtAwNhJE4NuI0Hmx4-Qcseguy4hr9J0FsUgg&s=eCPkIpeGFTTvTiNDACxzagMBTKsWNdOWHm126yWxiLE&e=">https://www.wisconsinwatch.org/2020/04/pandemic-portraits-milwaukee-voters/</a></li>
</ul>
<br /><em>This story was originally recorded and shared as part of an episode of the Madison podcast Inside Stories. Listen to that episode and subscribe to the podcast here: <a href="https://inside-stories.simplecast.com/episodes/inside-stories-covid-19-stories-4">https://inside-stories.simplecast.com/episodes/inside-stories-covid-19-stories-4</a><br /></em>
Coverage
The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant
Madison, Wisconsin
Language
A language of the resource
en
Identifier
An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context
covid19-021
Contributor
An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource
Glaeser, Colleen
Gostomski, Carrie
cat-elections
cat-inside_stories
covid19
covid19-021
-
https://omeka.madisonpubliclibrary.org/files/original/3f2db19eba64e2df0b9de9353b177c10.mp3
aca056fb4ef1713edadb7b29c39b958b
Dublin Core
The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/.
Title
A name given to the resource
Recollection Wisconsin
Sound
A resource primarily intended to be heard. Examples include a music playback file format, an audio compact disc, and recorded speech or sounds.
Original Format
The type of object, such as painting, sculpture, paper, photo, and additional data
Sound recordings
Duration
Length of time involved (seconds, minutes, hours, days, class periods, etc.)
00:04:19
Transcription
Any written text transcribed from a sound
Identifier: covid19-002<br />Narrator Name: Brendon Panke<br />Interviewer Name: <br />Date of interview: 4/1/2020<br /><br />I, very awkwardly, asked my wife to marry me. And then we set the date for a year after, about a year after, so we were sure to have time to finish school, and time to get everything planned and set. And it turns out we’d also have plenty of time to have conversations with my family members about why we weren’t getting married in the Catholic Church. Why we were going to have it outside. And why we were going to have our friend officiate, our recently divorced friend officiate. We even had to convince him why he was going to do it for us, but we won out in the end. <br /><br />But we still had to have a lot of awkward conversations with my mom, which I was surprised about, because we weren’t consistent churchgoers. And also with my grandma, her mom. I think that’s, maybe, the most conversations I’ve ever had with my grandma in a short period of time. And it was painful. It was every event, every holiday, and I just got tired of talking to my grandma. She even learned how to email, and she would email me, and at the end she would say things like “well, and I’ll pray for you two, if that’s ok.” (laughs) And I was like “sure grandma, passive aggressive prayer is fine by me.” (laughs) It’s the only kind really, I think, the only kind. <br /><br />So, I found out later though, that maybe this all wasn’t my grandma, see, I didn’t talk to my grandpa about it because he was very difficult to talk to at that time because he had Parkinson’s Disease. He was dying of it, and he couldn’t really talk very loudly at all. And so, I think my grandma was kind of like getting his message out to the world. And she felt this obligation to get that out there, and take care of him however she could, because it was getting hard. He was falling down a lot and she couldn’t pick him up.<br /><br />And then, about a week before the wedding, I guess, my grandpa said he wasn’t going to go. It wasn’t right, the way we were getting married. And my grandma said “Howard, you ass! Of course you are going to go.” (laughs) And then my grandpa died. And my grandma didn’t have to take care of him anymore. And I got to know my grandma all over again. And I got to have a lot of fun with my grandma. And I’m really glad I got to have that time with her, and get to know her again. And I think she got to know herself again. Her life was very different. And now she’s ninety-six. And she’s in hospice, and all she wants to do all day is drink chocolate wine and watch the Hallmark Channel. I don’t know what chocolate wine is, but I’m pretty sure it’s the wine equivalent of the Hallmark Channel. <br /><br />And I got to see her a couple weeks ago, and we talked with her a little bit. My son played her the violin. And she just was cute and snuggled down in her blankets, where she is most of the time. She doesn’t really get out of bed. She has to get lifted up by two people. But that’s ok, she’s ninety-six, and gets to pick how she spends her time. She is an adult, at this point. I’m pretty sure once you’re ninety-six you’re an adult. <br /><br />But now her nursing home is on lockdown. And, even though she’s in hospice, she’s not sick enough for us to visit her. So no one can visit her. My mom, and her sisters, and her brothers had been visiting her pretty much everyday, somebody had been hanging out with her. And now she’s just, just lonely, I think. I don’t know. I don’t really talk to her. There’s no way to connect to her.<br /><br />So I’m glad I got the time to know my grandma when I did, and I hope I’ll see her again.
Dublin Core
The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/.
Title
A name given to the resource
COVID-19 story by Brendon Panke, 2020
Subject
The topic of the resource
Family relationships
Weddings
Pandemics
Social distance
Rights
Information about rights held in and over the resource
Copyright 2020, Brendon Panke. All rights reserved. For more information, contact Madison Public Library.
Creator
An entity primarily responsible for making the resource
Panke, Brendon
Date
A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource
2020-04
Description
An account of the resource
Brendon Panke shares a story about family relationships and his wedding celebration. Brendon shares the impact the social distancing measures in effect in Wisconsin have had on his in-person relationship with his grandmother. <br /><br />This story was originally recorded and shared as part of an episode of the Madison podcast Inside Stories. Listen to that episode and subscribe to the podcast here: <a href="https://inside-stories.simplecast.com/episodes/inside-stories-covid-19-stories-1">https://inside-stories.simplecast.com/episodes/inside-stories-covid-19-stories-1</a>
Coverage
The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant
Madison, Wisconsin
Language
A language of the resource
en
Identifier
An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context
covid19-022
Contributor
An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource
Nick Propheter
cat-family
cat-inside_stories
cat-older_adults
covid19
covid19-022
-
https://omeka.madisonpubliclibrary.org/files/original/8e3237db8ac7d8039bb16939a1a82984.mp3
15ff214facf975def9d9867a88716f9b
Dublin Core
The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/.
Title
A name given to the resource
Recollection Wisconsin
Sound
A resource primarily intended to be heard. Examples include a music playback file format, an audio compact disc, and recorded speech or sounds.
Original Format
The type of object, such as painting, sculpture, paper, photo, and additional data
Sound recordings
Duration
Length of time involved (seconds, minutes, hours, days, class periods, etc.)
00:03:12
Transcription
Any written text transcribed from a sound
Identifier: covid19-029<br />Narrator Name: Jasmine Banks<br />Interviewer Name: n/a<br />Date of interview: 4/1/2020<br /><br />[START OF RECORDING]<br /><br />Jasmine Banks: I remember having a conversation with my dad when I was a teenager: “Why Madison? Why didn’t you ever leave? Why this house? Why this side of town?” To which my dad simply replied, Madison was his home. He loved it here. It was beautiful to him. Through my teenage eyes, I couldn’t understand. As I grew older, I never could really see the beauty in this city, but I did see the beauty in the people. People are my passion, so of course they’re beautiful.<br /><br />My family’s been in Madison for five generations. They migrated from the South around 1925. My dad was born at Madison General Hospital. My grandpa, like most others, worked at Oscar Mayer—the same as my dad and, later on, the same as me.<br /><br />Most recently, as we all know, Governor Evers ordered Safe at Home. That order has provided me the opportunity to work from home, something that I’ve always wanted to do. Every morning I start my day off with a walk. I’ve walked from Lake Mendota, to Lake Monona, to the Capitol Square, to Olbrich Gardens, down East Washington, Martin Luther King Junior Boulevard. I’ve walked through residential neighborhoods to see the beautiful old buildings, the architecture next door to these new high rises and buildings. I find it so interesting as I inhale all that surrounds me. I appreciate the sounds of the birds, the water as it flows, the sun as it shines. All the things that my dad knew when I asked him that question as a teenager, why he stayed. And he said because Madison was his home, and he found it beautiful—something that it took a pandemic for me to see.<br /><br />I’ll leave you with this: my hope is we all come on the other side of this pandemic seeing the beauty in things that we never thought were there before. <br /><br />[END OF RECORDING]
Dublin Core
The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/.
Title
A name given to the resource
COVID-19 story by Jasmine Banks, 2020
Subject
The topic of the resource
Social distance
Walking
Cities and towns
Rights
Information about rights held in and over the resource
Copyright 2020, Jasmine Banks. All rights reserved. For more information, contact Madison Public Library.
Creator
An entity primarily responsible for making the resource
Banks, Jasmine
Date
A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource
ca. 2020-04
Description
An account of the resource
Jasmine Banks shares her story of being part of a 5 generation family in Madison and how through her daily walks during social distancing she is rediscovering Madison.<br /><br /><em>This story was originally recorded and shared as part of an episode of the Madison podcast Inside Stories. Listen to that episode and subscribe to the podcast here: <a href="https://inside-stories.simplecast.com/episodes/inside-stories-covid-19-stories-3">https://inside-stories.simplecast.com/episodes/inside-stories-covid-19-stories-3</a></em>
Coverage
The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant
Madison, Wisconsin
Language
A language of the resource
en
Identifier
An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context
covid19-029
Contributor
An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource
Propheter, Nicholas
Glaeser, Colleen
cat-family
cat-inside_stories
cat-neighborhoods
covid19
covid19-029
-
https://omeka.madisonpubliclibrary.org/files/original/fa78ebb705c302311832c24a4765d289.mp3
990000a8339fb08059c2f5711a64eded
Dublin Core
The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/.
Title
A name given to the resource
Recollection Wisconsin
Sound
A resource primarily intended to be heard. Examples include a music playback file format, an audio compact disc, and recorded speech or sounds.
Original Format
The type of object, such as painting, sculpture, paper, photo, and additional data
Sound recordings
Duration
Length of time involved (seconds, minutes, hours, days, class periods, etc.)
00:05:53
Transcription
Any written text transcribed from a sound
Identifier: covid19-032<br />Narrator Name: Amber Walker <br />Interviewer Name: <br />Date of interview: 5/4/2020<br /><br />I had a dream last night about my friend T. We were in an Uber on our way to our first period class at my high school. Which was strange since I’m from Chicago and we’re in her hometown of Washington, D.C., and we were very much our adult selves. Our driver was nice enough, but he had no idea where he was going, and I was in full-fledged panic mode about being late, again, to my math class. T, however, was unfazed. Who cares about math class when God gave you the voice of one of his angels?<br /><br />Since the day she was born, T has been a singer. And everything she’s done in her thirty years on this planet has been in service to her gift and passion. I envy people like T, who know what they are meant to do, and do it. I, on the other hand, just emptied another closet; packing its contents into two suitcases, three boxes, and a duffel bag. I’m moving, again. My fifth city in nine years, Washington, D.C.<br /><br />I arrived here in March and another friend, G, was gracious enough to put me up in her guest room of the home she just bought, while I figure out what’s next. I finished grad school in New York City in December, and found a job in D.C. When I moved to Harlem two years ago I thought that would be home for a while. At the time, I put my stake in journalism, and was excited to complete my master’s degree in New York: the media capital of the world. I thought the move would bring with it all the opportunity an enterprising young journalist would need to fully commit to their work. And it did: I was nominated for a regional Emmy award, I completed an internship with an international publication I’d admired for many years, and even had a job offer in hand that would have allowed me to stay in New York: a journalist’s dream. But the sense of doubt that is all too familiar to me started to creep in. Is journalism what I’m meant to do? Is New York the place for me? What if I got it wrong, again? Just like I did with teaching, and nonprofit work, and IT consulting in Miami, and Chicago, and Madison. <br /><br />I think my fearlessness and ability to excel at what I do is both a gift and a curse. It’s allowed me to explore my interests, make friends who live all over the world, and find work that challenges and excites me. At least for a while. The downside is, after all the time, energy, and effort it takes to follow the twinge of interest, pivot my career, uproot my life, and start all over again in a new place, a few months later I find myself in bed again with the constant travel companion: doubt. Questioning if I made the right decision, and scrambling to journal, meditate, read up on, and interview folks about work. Hoping to find something I can eventually say is my passion, my gift, and my voice for the world. <br /><br />This time, however, I don’t have the usual distractions I get when I relocate to a new place. There are no coffee dates, no networking happy hours, no sightseeing. We are all buttoned up, settled in, and hunkered down for the foreseeable future.<br />I got to D.C. two weeks before the stay at home mandate started across the country. Although it was scary, being in one of the pandemic’s hotspots, I was grateful that I got out of New York when I did, and was able to stay healthy during my time there. <br /><br />The conversation about COVID-19 shifted overnight. On Wednesday, March 11, I was sitting at a bar, catching up with old friends over drinks, and asking about advice on which dress to wear to the Emmys. By Friday that bar was closed. The Emmys were cancelled. And I was praising the Lord that I got to spend lockdown with G, who had a stockpile of toilet paper at her house. A few weeks later, on April third, I had a video conference with some of my classmates back in New York. Out of the sixteen folks on the call, a quarter of them either had the virus, were recovering from it, or serving as a caregiver for a loved one who was sick. The eight or so of us who were not native New Yorkers had fled the city, and the rest were still there, trying their best to keep well. This new reality made everything even more complicated. My attention shifted from getting used to my new job to figuring out how to do it remotely and, on top of everything, I still needed to find permanent housing. <br /><br />My initial plan was to stay with G for a while, check out some places in person, and sign the lease when I found a place that was the perfect blend of price, location, and perks. But, as more rental units banned in person visits, my search transitioned to a barrage of virtual tours and endless email chains with landlords. As the lockdown continued, I saw the exorbitant rental prices in D.C. start to plummet, and the housing stock balloon with furnished, short term, former AirBNB landlords, who were doing what they could to cover the losses. <br /><br />When I arrived I romanticized about planting roots in D.C. But my bedmate, doubt, is once again nestling in next to me. The digital content industry already was in free-fall before this started. And, as the desire for news and information increased in the wake of the pandemic, the industry’s biggest source of income, ad revenue, is dropping sharply. I’m also the newest hire and well aware of the old adage: last one in, first one out. I’ve never rented a place sight unseen, but now I’m a couple hours away from handing over thousands of dollars to complete strangers I found on the internet, while praying that my new company is able to sustain itself during this growing recession. Fingers crossed that the keys this couple gives me opens up an apartment door that has more than just a Pier 1 couch, and a memory foam mattress that feels like sleeping on a cloud, on the other side of it. I signed a six month lease. Hopefully that’s enough time to figure it out.
Dublin Core
The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/.
Title
A name given to the resource
COVID-19 story by Amber Walker, 2020
Subject
The topic of the resource
Epidemics
Career changes
New York (N.Y.)
Washington (D.C.)
Rights
Information about rights held in and over the resource
Copyright 2020, Amber Walker. All rights reserved. For more information, contact Madison Public Library.
Creator
An entity primarily responsible for making the resource
Walker, Amber (Amber Camille)
Date
A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource
2020-05-04
Description
An account of the resource
Amber C. Walker describes her experience starting a new job and moving from New York City to Washington, D.C. at the beginning of the stay-at-home mandate in response to the COVID-19 pandemic. <em>This story was recorded for the Madison podcast Inside Stories. Listen to the full episode and subscribe to the podcast here: <a href="https://inside-stories.simplecast.com/episodes/inside-stories-covid-19-5">https://inside-stories.simplecast.com/episodes/inside-stories-covid-19-5</a></em>
Language
A language of the resource
en
Identifier
An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context
covid19-032
Contributor
An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource
Nick Propheter
cat-inside_stories
cat-work
covid19
covid19-032
-
https://omeka.madisonpubliclibrary.org/files/original/498ec3cf7c6411cdfea8d9d1e6656a5e.mp3
9cb997e21f738828416eef4f23735507
Dublin Core
The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/.
Title
A name given to the resource
Recollection Wisconsin
Sound
A resource primarily intended to be heard. Examples include a music playback file format, an audio compact disc, and recorded speech or sounds.
Original Format
The type of object, such as painting, sculpture, paper, photo, and additional data
Sound recordings
Duration
Length of time involved (seconds, minutes, hours, days, class periods, etc.)
00:06:09
Transcription
Any written text transcribed from a sound
Identifier: covid19-033<br />Narrator Name: Danielle Hairston-Green<br />Interviewer Name: <br />Date of interview: 5/4/2020<br /><br /><br />So, I showed up. Yes, I did. I showed up on the doorstep of my ex’s home. I couldn’t take one more day social distancing, and isolated away from all of my family one thousand miles away. So, I woke up one morning, booked a flight, grabbed my bookbag and laptops, and landed on my ex’s front step, unannounced. His reaction, “Did you lose your job?” My response, “Of course not. I’ve decided to social distance here with you, my fam, and our daughter.” Who, by the way, was social distancing there after leaving her campus. Not taking his eyes off of me, he watched me, as I stepped over the threshold, and ducked under his arm, and headed up to his second floor apartment, and then made myself comfortable. <br /><br />Senior, that’s what I call him, and I met in 1987 at McDonald’s where we both were employed. We were friends for a while, and then began dating two years later. We were teenagers.The journey of our lives is definitely book-worthy. We experienced every obstacle, pitfall, and milestone imaginable as teen parents. Despite the journey, and our love for one another, we eventually separated twenty years ago, and continued to co-parent our children. <br /><br />In the beginning it was difficult trying to co-parent, mainly because I wanted him to co-parent the way I wanted him to co-parent, and, of course, he wanted to co-parent the way he wanted to. Eventually I decided to allow him to do what he believed was best for him and the children. We have three children. I realized at some point that the battle just wasn’t worth the scars. And I needed to control what I could, and that is my reaction to it all. We did the best we could. We respected each other’s role in our childrens’ life, and protected our friendship.<br /><br />Here we are, great friends and social distancing together. The first week he checked on me every day, sarcastically wondering “How long is this really, really going to last?” I like to cook, and so everyday I was chopping up veggies, or sauteing something, or baking something fabulous, or cooking up the shrimp in his freezer, and rearranging his cabinets so I could find what I needed. To him that was simply too much activity in his kitchen. He would say “Why are you chopping up stuff all the time and messing up my kitchen?” Or, “I’ve never even used that pot.” Or he’ll say, “What do you mean do I have heavy cream? What is that?” Or, “Let’s order pizza, it’s quicker.” He’s a bachelor, and an introvert. So two extra humans in his home, and females, is just way too much for him. <br /><br />Anyway, I made myself comfy in his man cave, and set up my computer, getting ready for a week of Zooming. While sitting in his man cave I saw a spider, and I called out to say, “Oh my god, there’s a spider in here!” And he came rushing in quickly, you would have thought I’d said we were being robbed. He completely murdered that spider. And I said, “Wow, see, you are my hero.You really didn’t want me to get bit, huh?” His response, “Of course not. I don’t need anything to prolong your short stay.” And he emphasized the word short. I rolled my eyes, as I always do, and continued to set up my new, temporary office space, as he walks away shaking his head. <br /><br />The next morning was Easter. I got up and dressed and head out the door to pick up something from the pharmacy. And boom, down the concrete step I went, miscalculating my footing, with a handful of items, and a mask on my face that was actually blinding me because I was wearing glasses and breathing, and my lenses were fogging up. I guess you can’t do those two things at the same time when you have glasses on. Breathe and wear a mask, that is.The fall knocked the air out of me, and I ended up with two sprained ankles. Senior had to come home and carry me to his car, literally pick me up and carry me, so I could get to the urgent care. I know he was probably thinking, This was not on my agenda. I left out of the urgent car with crutches and a leg brace. I smiled at Senior, “Well, I guess I’ll be staying.” He didn’t even look at me, or respond. He just looked at the nurse and asked, “Excuse me, how can I assist in her speedy recovery?” He emphasized the word speedy.<br /><br />Everyday after work he sneaks into his man cave to see if I’m still in there. He whispers, “Let me know if you need a ride to the airport. I mean, no rush! I just want to make sure you have a safe ride.” (laughs) Whatever. After thirty days he caught a glimpse of me walking across the room without crutches, and under his breathe I hear him say, “Yes!” I roll my eyes again.<br /><br />But, yet, everyday he checks on me. He brings me lunch on his lunch break. He runs errands for me. Every now and again he steps into his former man cave and spends hours chatting about life with me. And just life in general. I may have started off as a house invader, but I can tell there’s a little something deep down inside of him that is glad I chose to social distance at his bachelor pad with our daughter. He’s my friend. He’s my co-pilot in parenting. And he’s my family.
Dublin Core
The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/.
Title
A name given to the resource
COVID-19 story by Danielle Y. Hairston-Green, 2020
Subject
The topic of the resource
Epidemics
Social distance
Family relationships
Man-woman relationships
Rights
Information about rights held in and over the resource
Copyright 2020, Danielle Y. Hairston-Green. All rights reserved. For more information, contact Madison Public Library.
Creator
An entity primarily responsible for making the resource
Hairston-Green, Danielle Y.
Date
A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource
2020-05-04
Description
An account of the resource
Danielle Y. Hairston-Green recounts an extended visit to her ex-partner's home during social distance measures. This story was recorded for an episode of the Madison podcast Inside Stories. <em>To hear the full episode and subscribe to the podcast, click here: <a href="https://inside-stories.simplecast.com/episodes/inside-stories-covid-19-5">https://inside-stories.simplecast.com/episodes/inside-stories-covid-19-5</a></em>
Language
A language of the resource
en
Identifier
An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context
covid19-033
Contributor
An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource
Nick Propheter
cat-family
cat-inside_stories
covid19
covid19-033
-
https://omeka.madisonpubliclibrary.org/files/original/eec184de6ca10211eea538a019137edf.mp3
4841b3568f9186d198fe0d1aff6359b2
Dublin Core
The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/.
Title
A name given to the resource
Recollection Wisconsin
Sound
A resource primarily intended to be heard. Examples include a music playback file format, an audio compact disc, and recorded speech or sounds.
Transcription
Any written text transcribed from a sound
Identifier: covid19-037<br />Narrator Name: Jenie Gao<br />Interviewer Name: N/A<br />Date of Interview: Spring 2020<br /><br />Jenie Gao: I grew up watching Bruce Lee movies with my dad, and lots of other age-inappropriate things for a child who could barely read. The scene of a man crushing another man to death in his bare arms was a thing of childhood nightmares. When I was very little, maybe five or six, my dad told me that Bruce Lee was an icon, flawless. When I was a little older, maybe ten, my mom told me that my dad never knew who Bruce Lee was until his thirties, after he had moved to the U.S. because of censorship in China.<br /><br />Bruce Lee was from British Hong Kong, and died seven years before my dad set foot on U.S. soil. When I was a little older than that, in my early teens, my dad told me, bitterly, one day, how you see Bruce Lee in his films, and he’s amazing. But you don’t see a man who broke his back and nearly ended his career. You don’t see a man who overexerted himself and would lie in bed for days, almost crippled, before he could fight again. Can you imagine if one of those fictitious villains came to fight Bruce Lee the day after a battle, and found him, invalid, at home? That part doesn’t make it into the movies. You don’t see the day that Bruce Lee died, when his brain swelled in his skull, and he was only thirty-two. You don’t see the impact of all the “too much” that made Bruce Lee who he was.<br /><br />My dad shared this, only intending to vent, and perhaps demonstrate the inevitable disappointment that comes with learning a person's flaws. My dad hated imperfection, to the point of cruel excess, deeply flawed though he himself was. But while it wasn't my dad's intent, the image of Bruce Lee lying at home, wounded, has become a lifelong metaphor for me instead. For the times in life when I don't feel like the fighter I was supposed to be, but know that after the recovery, the fight will continue. Bruce Lee did recover from his back injury, and keep fighting, after all. He did show up on set, after his most excruciating rest days. And he may not have died had he not obsessed with perfection. <br /><br />This week in quarantine was inexplicably harder for me. It wasn't paradigm breaking, like the first week in quarantine. It wasn't traumatizing, like the week Wisconsin's GOP tried to hijack the election. Rather, it was like all my energy to keep forging on vanished. I became torpid and heavy, like a bird with its wings clipped, or a wounded animal in its den. I worked, but I struggled to stay focused. Worse, I struggled to forgive myself for the things I wasn't up to. <br /><br />I remember on a particularly bad, stressful day several months ago, Christopher called me in the middle of the workday when he sensed something was wrong. I don't even remember what had happened, but I cried and I apologized that I couldn't be perfect. I want so badly to do things right. Perfection is a trap.<br /><br />But it's week seven of quarantine, and there are no right answers. You can run a responsible small business, and still get screwed by politicians and incompetent leadership mishandling a pandemic. You can stay on top of all the business grants and loans out there, but it doesn't matter if only five percent of businesses will get the PPP loan. Back when I was applying for college, even the most exclusive universities I applied to had a seven percent acceptance rate. <br /><br />You can roll with the punches and find new opportunities, but it doesn't change the fact that you don't like getting punched, and especially not over injustices that should have been resolved long ago. At one point this week I vented to Chris, "I don't want to just critique the model; I want to break it." I'm not willing to swallow my pride, and deal with the things that just don't change fast enough in this world. <br /><br />Bit by bit, I got my work done this week. I finished my client work. I applied for more business relief. I made more online sales. I started a new artwork. I mostly avoided social media. I was highly inefficient. I was not in the zone. I didn't feel a lot of joy. But I showed up, even with my wings clipped. And I am forgiving myself for the rest. My friends, I hope even the toughest among you are finding time to be gentle with yourselves. Even the fighters need to rest.
Dublin Core
The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/.
Title
A name given to the resource
COVID-19 story by Jenie Gao, 2020
Subject
The topic of the resource
Martial arts films
Family relationships
Social distance
Epidemics
Small business
Rights
Information about rights held in and over the resource
Copyright 2020, Jenie Gao. All rights reserved. For more information, contact Madison Public Library.
Creator
An entity primarily responsible for making the resource
Gao, Jenie
Date
A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource
ca. 2020-05-20
Description
An account of the resource
Jenie Gao shares a story about her father through the lens of watching films by martial artist Bruce Lee, and the systemic challenges she's facing as an artist and small business owner during the pandemic and subsequent social distancing measures. <em>This story was recorded for the Madison podcast, Inside Stories. Listen to the full episode and subscribe to the podcast here: <a href="https://inside-stories.simplecast.com/episodes/inside-stories-covid-19-6">https://inside-stories.simplecast.com/episodes/inside-stories-covid-19-6 </a></em>
Coverage
The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant
Madison, Wisconsin
Language
A language of the resource
en
Identifier
An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context
covid19-037
Contributor
An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource
Jane Wolff
cat-arts
cat-inside_stories
cat-work
covid19
covid19-037
-
https://omeka.madisonpubliclibrary.org/files/original/f3807c5dc115bfb8e86e7bd99184f83f.mp3
d966b68315a8436c5cc7b589024ddf00
Dublin Core
The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/.
Title
A name given to the resource
Recollection Wisconsin
Sound
A resource primarily intended to be heard. Examples include a music playback file format, an audio compact disc, and recorded speech or sounds.
Original Format
The type of object, such as painting, sculpture, paper, photo, and additional data
Sound recordings
Duration
Length of time involved (seconds, minutes, hours, days, class periods, etc.)
00:05:26
Transcription
Any written text transcribed from a sound
Identifier: covid19-041<br />Narrator Name: Rabbi Laurie Zimmerman<br />Interviewer Name: N/A<br />Date of Interview: 05/06/2020<br /><br />Rabbi Laurie Zimmerman: How do you set up an internet hotspot with your phone? Prop up your laptop so a hundred people can see you on Zoom? And officiate at a funeral where it’s just you, an undertaker, and two gravediggers? How do you convince an elderly congregant to let a volunteer buy her groceries after she’s made herself sick eating spoiled food because she’s too scared to go shopping? How do you marry a couple over Zoom, when they had planned a beautiful weekend that’s now been cancelled? Do you do the legal part on video, and postpone the religious ceremony and the reception? Or do you stand in a park with them, six feet apart, decked out in a mask? <br /><br />These are the questions that my colleagues and I discuss when I try to make sense of this crazy world we live in. As a rabbi, I could have never imagined not being able to sit with someone who's grieving, not being able to make a hospital visit, not being able to officiate at a bat mitzvah. In some ways, my work now is similar to my work before COVID-19. I still teach, I do counseling, plan holiday celebrations, write budgets, and work with members of my congregation on social justice issues. In other ways, life has turned upside down. <br /><br />It's an adjustment, working at home with my partner, who's also a rabbi, and our two kids. Today, after I took a shower, I walked into my bedroom to get dressed, and only then realized that my partner was in the room, doing a funeral intake on Zoom. That was a close call.<br /><br />We're all trying to adapt to this new reality. I've never been so inundated with opportunities for online trainings. Sure, I'm supposed to do some professional development here and there, but there are so many choices right now. There are webinars on effective ways of Zooming with kids, and on counseling youth and elders and wedding couples. There are webinars on ethical decision making around finances and end-of-life issues, and how to help patients navigate a broken healthcare system all alone. I could study what ancient texts could teach us about pandemics and grief and fear, and longing for what we have lost, and having faith in difficult times. At some point it just gets too much. <br /><br />A few days ago I co-led a webinar for rabbis on how to plan for Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur services this coming September. These are the most important Jewish holidays of the year. The sanctuary is always packed. Even Jews who are not that involved in Jewish life or observant of religious traditions will take off work, or celebrate in some way. These holidays require a tremendous amount of preparation. It's hard to imagine a synagogue even existing without devoting major energy to Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur. <br /><br />I thought fifteen rabbis would show up. Over fifty came. We were an anxious bunch. Can we congregate at all over these holidays, even in small groups? And if so, how do you exactly sit six feet apart? How do you keep the bathrooms clean? Do you sanitize the prayer books? How do you correct the Torah-reader's mistakes if you can't stand inches from him? There's no shofar blowing indoors? And apparently group singing can launch droplets farther than six feet, and is deemed to be not safe. So we're going to ask people to sit spaced out in the room, wearing masks, hearing all the prayers they grew up with, but remain silent? What is that?<br /><br />But the alternative, to think that I would stand in an empty sanctuary, live streaming almost eighteen hours of services over these days? Or do it on Zoom, where I can see little boxes of congregants? That's almost worse! Prayer is supposed to be a communal spiritual experience; how, exactly, do you pray to a computer screen? It feels so performative. The last time I led services on Zoom, all I noticed was that I needed a haircut.<br /><br />My colleagues are pretty creative, and after the shock of realizing how different Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur would be, we realized we had other options, and we would force ourselves to try new things. We could move outside for certain socially-distanced gatherings, and have small discussion groups virtually or in person. We could pre-record my sermons, live stream shorter services, and invite interesting speakers. We could still create space for people to share and cry and celebrate. <br /><br />Living through a pandemic is challenging, and I'm still learning how to move through my own anxiety so I can hold the anxiety of others. I'm still learning to mourn the loss of in-person community. And, like everyone, I'm still learning to be flexible and to live with tremendous uncertainty.
Dublin Core
The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/.
Title
A name given to the resource
COVID-19 story by Rabbi Laurie Zimmerman, 2020
Subject
The topic of the resource
Epidemics
Rites and ceremonies
Judaism--Customs and practices
Rabbis
Social distance
Rights
Information about rights held in and over the resource
Copyright 2020, Laurie Zimmerman. All rights reserved. For more information, contact Madison Public Library.
Creator
An entity primarily responsible for making the resource
Zimmerman, Laurie
Date
A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource
2020-05-06
Description
An account of the resource
Rabbi Laurie Zimmerman, of Congregation Shaarei Shamayim in Madison, shares a story about what her work as a rabbi looks like in the time of social distance measures, due to the COVID-19 pandemic.<br /><br />This story was recorded as part of the Madison podcast, <em>Inside Stories</em>. To hear the full episode and to subscribe to the podcast, click here: <a href="https://inside-stories.simplecast.com/episodes/inside-stories-covid-19-6">https://inside-stories.simplecast.com/episodes/inside-stories-covid-19-6</a>
Coverage
The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant
Madison, Wisconsin
Language
A language of the resource
en
Identifier
An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context
covid19-041
Contributor
An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource
Jane Wolff
cat-inside_stories
cat-work
covid19
covid19-041
-
https://omeka.madisonpubliclibrary.org/files/original/4fa580692b487b152cf50b0e80bee397.mp3
7e9fa085db0b7ddc16f8a795d97e637a
Dublin Core
The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/.
Title
A name given to the resource
Recollection Wisconsin
Sound
A resource primarily intended to be heard. Examples include a music playback file format, an audio compact disc, and recorded speech or sounds.
Original Format
The type of object, such as painting, sculpture, paper, photo, and additional data
Sound recordings
Duration
Length of time involved (seconds, minutes, hours, days, class periods, etc.)
00:07:12
Transcription
Any written text transcribed from a sound
Identifier: covid19-042<br />Narrator Name: Brian Lee Huynh<br />Interviewer Name: N/A<br />Date of Interview: Spring 2020<br /><br />Brian Lee Huynh: What was once mundane is now exciting to me, was once normal is now a distant memory from a time I might never return to. Since the start of spring break, I’ve been at home in Milwaukee, roughly eighty miles away from the University of Wisconsin-Madison, where I expected to finish off the remainder of my sophomore year. Of course, that didn’t happen (sighs). <br /><br />Instead of roaming around campus trying to find a quiet place to cram for finals, inevitably ending up in either Memorial Library or some hidden cove in one of the unions, I struggled to find the motivation to study for open-book online exams in my parents’ basement. Finals week didn’t feel like finals week. Clicking “Submit” on my last exam wasn’t as satisfying or as stressful as scrambling to jot down my final thoughts in a lecture hall packed with people who I’d seen all semester, and those who only showed up when their grades depended on it.<br /><br />I’ve come to find that it’s these little details that have made my college experience memorable thus far. And though I was reluctant to admit it at first, the more I think about it, my memories of Madison always bring me back to people, for better or worse. And it’s funny in its way, because I’ll be the first one to tell you that I’m an introvert with enough social anxiety to make large crowds feel like war zones where it’s me against the world. And yet, the thing I miss the most about school and the way things used to be is the people.<br /><br />Now don’t get me wrong—the first week or so of online learning was great. I could sleep at 4 a.m. and wake up at one in the afternoon without being late. I could learn at my own pace without dealing with obnoxious people interrupting class. But after a while, the monotony kicked in, and I would have given anything to have someone enter halfway through a lecture and choose the most inconvenient seat possible, just to remind me that I wasn’t alone, sitting behind the screen during a pandemic.<br /><br />I never thought I would say this, but social distancing is hard, even for introverts. For me, being on the periphery of campus life was mostly a choice, and I enjoyed people watching, looking from afar at strangers I might meet someday and those with paths that would never intersect with mine. It made me feel like I was a part of something, that I wasn’t the only small fish in a gigantic pond of other college students trying to figure out what it all means. The greatest realization that I’ve come to in this time away from others is that technology is not advanced enough, nor will it ever be, to replace human interaction. <br /><br />My most memorable learning experiences involve people in one way or another. Even an introvert like myself is forced to admit that I miss the hustle and bustle of campus life. I miss laughing with people in crowded spaces, I miss trying to stay awake in lecture halls that are always either too hot or too cold, regardless of the time of year. I miss the communal feeling of exhaustion that fills the air during finals season, as well as the shared feeling of relief upon turning in semester-long projects. Isn’t it horrible how we learn to miss things only when they’re gone? I heard somewhere that you can’t miss someone if they won’t go away, and I think I had to learn that one the hard way.<br /><br />My older sister, Linda, graduated from Madison this year, and she also came home to isolate with our parents. You can imagine how little time we’ve spent with them in the last few years, with us both going to college in a different city. I was there when my mom unsuccessfully fought back tears in the long car ride home after leaving Linda in her dorm four years ago. I remember her calling me every day during my freshman year to make sure I was taking my vitamins and wasn’t being too stupid. I owe my mom and dad an apology for every call I never picked up, every message I left unread for weeks. Out of all of the foolish decisions I’ve made in the last two years, the dumbest thing I’ve done in my college career is think I was too busy for my family. We drifted apart. Even back then, technology was not enough to replace human interaction.<br /><br />This time at home has given us a chance to rediscover who we are and to rebuild the bonds that were wearing thin. So, while the coronavirus may have distanced the world, it’s also brought my family back together. We don’t argue as much as we used to. We laugh more often than not, and it kind of feels like we’re kids again. I bother my sister until she punches me while my mom and dad tell jokes and make sure we never go hungry.<br /><br />And while technology is still an incredibly fickle thing, I have to give it credit. It’s also brought the rest of my family closer together. Every day the silence is broken by group calls with family from across the globe, so the house is always buzzing with laughter and new family gossip. Even family we rarely hear from are calling to see how we’re doing.<br /><br />My mom always seems to be the one orchestrating these video calls, which is rather fitting, seeing as she’s always been the one trying to hold things together. She’s always been the type to shoulder every burden without complaining, to go to work before the sun rises and come back just before midnight and still find a way to make dinner. It never occurred to me that my mother is just a human being. Her face is finally starting to show the wrinkles of time that mark the passing of countless birthdays. Bags under her eyes tell the story of her restlessness, most likely from worrying about Linda and me over the years. When she smiles, I can see the creases from the decades of laughter and struggle that have come before. I had to acknowledge for the first time that she’s not getting any younger, and neither are we. Linda’s twenty-three. I’m turning twenty in June. My dad’s hair count is nearing the single digits. <br /><br />The pandemic has made me address truths that I’ve been too afraid or too oblivious to face. In this time away from the countless distractions of the world, I’ve been forced to stand at the periphery of my own life and look inward, at the past, present, and what it means for the future. And I can’t help but worry. When this eventually ends and we start to reclaim bits and pieces of what once was our normal lives, will I fall back into my old ways? Will we drift apart once more? And will it take another earth-shattering loss for me to appreciate what I have? (Sighs.) As with everything these days, I don’t know.
Dublin Core
The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/.
Title
A name given to the resource
COVID-19 story by Brian Lee Huynh, 2020
Subject
The topic of the resource
College students
Epidemics
College campuses
Social distance
Family relationships
Rights
Information about rights held in and over the resource
Copyright 2020, Brian Lee Huynh. All rights reserved. For more information, contact Madison Public Library.
Creator
An entity primarily responsible for making the resource
Huynh, Brian Lee
Date
A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource
2020-05-06
Description
An account of the resource
Brian Lee Huynh shares a story about his experience finishing the 2020 academic year at home, due to social distance measures in place in Wisconsin. Brian reflects on how being at home with his family has helped them reconnect and become closer at this time.<br /><br />This story was recorded for the Madison podcast, <em>Inside Stories</em>. To hear the full episode and to subscribe to the podcast, click here: <a href="https://inside-stories.simplecast.com/episodes/inside-stories-covid-19-6">https://inside-stories.simplecast.com/episodes/inside-stories-covid-19-6</a>
Coverage
The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant
Madison, Wisconsin
Language
A language of the resource
en
Identifier
An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context
covid19-042
Contributor
An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource
Jane Wolff
cat-education
cat-family
cat-inside_stories
covid19
covid19-042
-
https://omeka.madisonpubliclibrary.org/files/original/9bafcc5c02724fde4517e64af556f4f9.mp3
3c2ad22a020ffccff7a365513df39586
Dublin Core
The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/.
Title
A name given to the resource
Recollection Wisconsin
Sound
A resource primarily intended to be heard. Examples include a music playback file format, an audio compact disc, and recorded speech or sounds.
Original Format
The type of object, such as painting, sculpture, paper, photo, and additional data
Poetry
Duration
Length of time involved (seconds, minutes, hours, days, class periods, etc.)
00:01:08
Dublin Core
The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/.
Title
A name given to the resource
Close Call
Subject
The topic of the resource
Poetry
Epidemics
Social distance
Rights
Information about rights held in and over the resource
Copyright 2020, Dana Maya. All rights reserved. For more information, contact Madison Public Library.
Creator
An entity primarily responsible for making the resource
Maya, Dana
Date
A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource
2020-05-06
Description
An account of the resource
A poem by Dana Maya, about social distance measures in Madison, Wisconsin, in spring 2020.
Coverage
The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant
Madison, Wisconsin
Language
A language of the resource
en
Identifier
An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context
covid19-043
cat-arts
cat-inside_stories
covid19
covid19-043