In the darkest days of the early Covid-19 pandemic, when millions of Americans were struggling to feed their families and living in constant fear of a deadly virus, something unusual happened. Neighbors all over the country started coming together to help one another, buying groceries, picking up medicine, and generally caring for each other at a time when even venturing outside the house was infused with uncertainty and fear.
New mutual aid organizations sprang up and saw unprecedented participation and donations — Bed-Stuy Strong, for example, in central Brooklyn, mobilized more than 1,200 people and distributed $1.2 million worth of food, according to founder Sarah Thankam Mathews.
Part of the reason for this outpouring was the overwhelming need and a desire to do something to help. Part of it was that some Americans, finally, had time on their hands. The “massive crisis response” of Bed-Stuy Strong was fueled in part, Mathews said, by “a lot of people losing their jobs or having to do much less work at their jobs.”
Prior to the pandemic, work was a huge obstacle to community involvement, with lack of free time the most common reason Americans cited for why they didn’t volunteer. Covid-19 has shown that in an extraordinary moment, Americans can come together, but in our ordinary lives, we often just don’t have any extra time to give to others.
That shouldn’t be a surprise given the way that American work culture swallows up our days. Whether you’re working 80 hours a...
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