Safe physical distance. Those are the words Dr. Bonnie Henry used on Saturday to underscore what we need as we move toward a phased reopening.
Henry said it was OK to be outside, but reiterated our collective responsibility: “Safe physical distance remains and important part of what we need to do right now in British Columbia.”
But Vancouverites had release papers, the weather was blissful and predictably, beaches across the lower mainland were packed.
The crowds were jarring to some.
Vancouver’s Janie Venis was upset after taking a walk along Spanish Banks on Friday.
© Arlen Redekop Vancouverites flocked to English Bay on Sunday to soak up some late spring sunshine.
“I have never seen so many people,” said Venis, who observed clusters everywhere: of young people, clusters not wearing masks, clusters that didn’t look like family members, even clusters of VPD officers.
Entrepreneur Chad McMillan, who free-soloed down to Spanish Banks this weekend where he isolated on a rock, said the crowds seemed too big, too soon.
“We still are still in a fragile state and we need to be vigilant.”
© Arlen Redekop Vancouverites flocked to English Bay on Sunday to soak up some late spring sunshine.
But haven’t we earned the privilege of going out?
If our curve is flattening, it’s because we embraced Henry’s message of social isolation with the zealous enthusiasm of converts: we jumped into our lockdown sweatpants, stopped shaving and learned to drink alone. We endured countless agonizing Zoom meetings and home-schooled the kids. We scrubbed our hands raw. We did the work.
Now some of us are going stir-crazy, but for others the toll of isolation is far more serious.
“I have been encouraging people to go outside because I know how important it is to our mental health,” said Henry on Saturday. But, she cautioned, stay in your pandemic bubbles. Hold the line. Keep your distance.
So how do we balance the need for space with our very human need for togetherness?
© Arlen Redekop Vancouverites flocked to English Bay on Sunday to soak up some late spring sunshine.
Azim Shariff, Associate professor of Social Psychology at UBC said because of the unprecedented nature of this situation, we simply do not know yet what the right course of action is — and past pandemics and major events involving risk show a common pattern in how the public responds.
“People initially overreact, they respond with behaviour that exceeds the risk, then the behaviour declines more sharply than the actual risk declines,” said Shariff. It will be impossible to know whether we under or over reacting until we have the numbers.
Sharrif said it’s imperative to factor in the hidden toll social isolation on our mental and physical health when we try to evaluate the counter risks of reopening, mixing and mingling again.
Shariff said there are several studies underway among his colleagues at UBC that show a very substantial increase in depressive symptoms due to the social isolation and social anxiety.
“The effect of this on mental health could be absolutely enormous,” said Shariff. “T he cost of somebody dying of the virus is real, concrete and in your face. You get the numbers. Whereas the cost of someone whose health worsens because they have no social contact is hard to quantify, or someone whose livelihood is harmed, or the lifelong lasting impacts to the economy.”
Shariff said it will probably take a visible negative consequence from our behaviour, like a spike in infections or a second wave, to determine whether we are over or under reacting, to know whether we are clustering too closely or with too many people.
“We are in a bad situation, but these are the only options we have left: holing up we have indirect causes (of harm) or we choose to open up in exchange for some increase in benefit. Or we find some way between the two.”
East Van Dad Dave Murton said he was pleasantly surprised by how well-spaced the crowd at Kits beach was on Sunday.
“I was worried about coming down here, but people seem pretty respectful of others today,” said Murton. He had biked down with his wife Andrea, and 13-year-old twins Samantha and Nick, for a visit with Andrea’s parents who are not in their household “pandemic bubble.”
“We wanted to do something for Mother’s Day, but find a way to be together apart,” said Murton.
The six family members found a way in between isolating and being together: they shared a bench, and a bit of shade under a tree, close, but not too close.
Henry said it was OK to be outside, but reiterated our collective responsibility: “Safe physical distance remains and important part of what we need to do right now in British Columbia.”
But Vancouverites had release papers, the weather was blissful and predictably, beaches across the lower mainland were packed.
The crowds were jarring to some.
Vancouver’s Janie Venis was upset after taking a walk along Spanish Banks on Friday.
“I have never seen so many people,” said Venis, who observed clusters everywhere: of young people, clusters not wearing masks, clusters that didn’t look like family members, even clusters of VPD officers.
Entrepreneur Chad McMillan, who free-soloed down to Spanish Banks this weekend where he isolated on a rock, said the crowds seemed too big, too soon.
“We still are still in a fragile state and we need to be vigilant.”
But haven’t we earned the privilege of going out?
If our curve is flattening, it’s because we embraced Henry’s message of social isolation with the zealous enthusiasm of converts: we jumped into our lockdown sweatpants, stopped shaving and learned to drink alone. We endured countless agonizing Zoom meetings and home-schooled the kids. We scrubbed our hands raw. We did the work.
Now some of us are going stir-crazy, but for others the toll of isolation is far more serious.
“I have been encouraging people to go outside because I know how important it is to our mental health,” said Henry on Saturday. But, she cautioned, stay in your pandemic bubbles. Hold the line. Keep your distance.
So how do we balance the need for space with our very human need for togetherness?
Azim Shariff, Associate professor of Social Psychology at UBC said because of the unprecedented nature of this situation, we simply do not know yet what the right course of action is — and past pandemics and major events involving risk show a common pattern in how the public responds.
“People initially overreact, they respond with behaviour that exceeds the risk, then the behaviour declines more sharply than the actual risk declines,” said Shariff. It will be impossible to know whether we under or over reacting until we have the numbers.
Sharrif said it’s imperative to factor in the hidden toll social isolation on our mental and physical health when we try to evaluate the counter risks of reopening, mixing and mingling again.
Shariff said there are several studies underway among his colleagues at UBC that show a very substantial increase in depressive symptoms due to the social isolation and social anxiety.
“The effect of this on mental health could be absolutely enormous,” said Shariff. “T he cost of somebody dying of the virus is real, concrete and in your face. You get the numbers. Whereas the cost of someone whose health worsens because they have no social contact is hard to quantify, or someone whose livelihood is harmed, or the lifelong lasting impacts to the economy.”
Shariff said it will probably take a visible negative consequence from our behaviour, like a spike in infections or a second wave, to determine whether we are over or under reacting, to know whether we are clustering too closely or with too many people.
“We are in a bad situation, but these are the only options we have left: holing up we have indirect causes (of harm) or we choose to open up in exchange for some increase in benefit. Or we find some way between the two.”
East Van Dad Dave Murton said he was pleasantly surprised by how well-spaced the crowd at Kits beach was on Sunday.
“I was worried about coming down here, but people seem pretty respectful of others today,” said Murton. He had biked down with his wife Andrea, and 13-year-old twins Samantha and Nick, for a visit with Andrea’s parents who are not in their household “pandemic bubble.”
“We wanted to do something for Mother’s Day, but find a way to be together apart,” said Murton.
The six family members found a way in between isolating and being together: they shared a bench, and a bit of shade under a tree, close, but not too close.
