End of an Era

Yesterday my team got together to mark the end of our COVID Outreach efforts with the Salt Lake County Health Department. I started with the Health Department in February 2021 as a temp to help out at the Mass Vaccination sites for a few months, and ended up joining the COVID Outreach team as one of the Event Managers and working one of the most amazing jobs I've ever had, for much longer than I ever expected. And it's surreal that we've reached the end of this journey as our contracts wind down next week.

I saw it best described today as two years of literal blood, sweat, and tears. And with some of the most amazing people I've ever met.

Working crazy hours, in extreme situations, in all types of weather, out of the backs of trucks and in RVs and under tents in parking lots, in tiny back rooms and in giant gymnasiums, all with the help of incredible community partners. My life was filled with incredible public servants, incredible nurses, our police officer partners, grateful and hope-filled members of the public, and the occasional sneering critic. (We only had stuff thrown at us a few times. Flipped off a little more often. Yelled at occasionally. And one really dramatic drive-through angry dude who honked and flipped us off while he drove past and then ran right into one of our signs). I worked events where we walked among the homeless and ones where we provided services at the Utah Jazz training camp. At schools, colleges, City Halls, community events and community centers, festivals, jails, needle exchanges, special needs residences, detention facilities, resource fairs at homeless encampments, libraries, parades, corporate offices, factory floors, cultural celebrations, sporting events, and in small corner store parking lots sometimes weirdly closer to dumpsters. I have eaten food from so many tiny restaurants that I never knew existed, from every corner of the world. I worked with community partners who serve with their whole hearts in ways I never knew about, and it changed me for the better. I saw nonprofits filled with young interns who put their everything into serving the refugee and immigrant populations here in the Valley, and people who have dedicated their whole careers to making this world better for the often overlooked. I worked with partners who provide services in more languages than I'd ever heard spoken before. I've had the opportunity to get to know and work with faith leaders and clergy from every corner of the Valley, providing vaccinations everywhere from The Cathedral of the Madeleine between Sunday services to the Holi Festival of Colors (my computer was covered with colorful dust for weeks after that one!) I saw retired doctors, nurses, pharmacists, veterinarians and more step up and volunteer to extend our reach, and I saw the County's employees (from long time employees to new temps like myself) put everything else on hold and dedicate an astonishing number of hours to the welfare of this community.

I’m just realizing now how much I’m mourning this loss -- it was such a perfect job for me during the last two years, where I got to be involved with meaningful work with incredible people (both our community partners and the amazing team I work with). I would not be exaggerating to say that it fed my soul and renewed my faith in humanity in a world that has gone a little mad the last few years. I found a home and a community among my teams and partners, to replace the ones it felt I was painfully losing elsewhere. I've never had any aspirations for working in public health, let alone in a once-in-a-lifetime (fingers crossed) pandemic, but it was like nothing else I've ever done -- our public health workers and healthcare providers are incredible, talented, dedicated, caring, and tireless people, and my life is better for having known them. There is no where I would've rather spent the last two years than working with this amazing team -- I worked for and with the most incredible people.

These opportunities changed me -- I believe for the better. I have a wider view of the world, a broader understanding and appreciation for the people out in my community each day doing their small little part to make it a better, safer, healthier, more equitable place. Working in this role healed parts of me that felt a little broken and bruised over the last several years. It also broke pieces of my heart. To quote my boss, "There's no doubt that deep down, there's some trauma I'll need time to recover from -- as a lot of pandemic workers will." I saw first hand the devastating effects this pandemic had, and just how dramatically different those effects were felt in different communities. I worked extensively in a community just 15 miles North of my own with 11x the deaths as my own zip code (and only double the population). I cried with faith leaders planning their third funeral that week, held the hands and listened to the stories of families who lost loved ones, sat with families who were terrified for their intergenerational, multi family homes which were at significantly greater risk for negative outcomes, and talked with community leaders whose eyes filled with tears as they shared how devastating the pandemic was on parts of the population. I watched the most privileged live life relatively unchanged and with the pandemic somewhat unnoticed -- an inconvenient annoyance -- as I also worked with communities who had families with multiple tragic losses and devastating consequences. I watched elected politicians in my City mock words like 'equity', and call it evil and convoluted, as I worked with the Equitable Outreach team and saw just how vital an equitable focus was in our pandemic response, as our team's main focus was always free to go where we were most needed, to those with the least access and the most health equity barriers.

So what comes next? I'm not sure. There is a very big hole to fill in my life right now. I’ve been debating diving right into a new job, or focusing solely on school for a bit, or finding some combination that works. But I do know that the next steps for me will include going back to school again. Which feels so weird as we're also in that phase of life where we're filling out applications and attending scholarship seminars for our Junior in High School, but wish me luck!