I think it is safe to say that back in 2015, everyone got the answer to the question “Where do you see yourself in five years?” wrong. Like millions of others, I am coming up on six months of being effectively locked in my house to avoid the COVID-19 pandemic that has ravaged the world. While there are millions of essential workers putting themselves at risk, and tens of thousands of my fellow Americans dead from this brutal disease, I log on to my computer every day and see videos and pictures taken in countries all over the world that have reached the other side of the outbreak and crushed their proverbial curve— and at least partly returned to life as normal.
When this pandemic has passed, there will be countless examinations as to why the United States—by all measures the wealthiest and most capable country to deal with a pandemic, at least on paper—failed so spectacularly to rise to the occasion, and instead allowed hundreds of thousands of its own people to die. Becoming the fledgling world traveler that I have over the last few years, I have noticed a uniquely American phenomenon that helped dig the virus-filled hole in which we currently find ourselves.
The first two editions of Greece Is the Word chronicled my journey to Ikaria to revisit my family roots and do a little soul-searching. Ikarian life, which has been well-documented as a pathway to living to be more than a century old, could not be a bigger departure from the life in the United States that I’ve experienced over the last quarter-century. Yes, on Ikaria life is simpler, more mellow, and arguably less productive by American standards, but it also fulfills certain parts of the human condition where the United States leaves much to be desired.
In an age of extreme tribalism, with political beliefs, lifestyles, and basic principles in which to operate being carved up along the borders of race, religion, gender, and socio-economic status, America has become fraught with a lack of good will or sense of community among its citizens. I didn’t much notice this when things really began to unwind towards the end of the last decade, as social erosions like this are often deaths of 1,000 cuts and hard to note as they’re happening.
When I first traveled to Ikaria, I was pleasantly surprised, and even a little alarmed, at how trusting everyone is of one another. Front doors unlocked, unexpected visits to homes at all hours of the day, and treating even acquaintances as if they are your own kin are mainstays of Ikarian culture that I without a doubt believe contribute to the longevity of its inhabitants. By building such a deep trust and sense of community amongst each other, Ikarians live a very fulfilling life that constantly reminds everyone that they are included, they are loved, and they will be cared for if something happens to them. Unfortunately, that is something that felt too far gone when I returned home from each of my three Ikarian voyages.
Now, it is easy to point out that this communal social fabric is much easier to attain on an island of approximately 8,000 people of the same ethnicity as opposed to a raucous and geographically large country of 330 million like the United States—which also happens to be the most diverse nation by any measurement in the history of mankind. While that may be true, it is also true that the most difficult moments in our lives call for us to do the most self-reflection in order to understand why difficult times have arisen in the first place.
As a whole, Americans have lost the sense of obligation to one another that would have stopped the egregious number of infections of COVID-19 that we have witnessed spread across our country in the last six months. Our hyper-individualized, self-centered way of life has taken precedent above all else, and has resulted in people ignoring social distancing rules, refusing to wear masks, and risking their lives and the lives of everyone around them just to do whatever they feel like doing on a whim. With even a touch of the Ikarian way, and a sense of community on even the most basic of levels, we would have been able avoid the innumerable deaths and immense suffering that have befallen our country this year.
While it is absolutely true that the United States has never truly included everyone and seems to have a sense of obligation to some of its citizens, I recall numerous times over the last few months seeing photos pop up on my Instagram feed of people during the 1918 Flu Pandemic wearing masks and holding up signs imploring, and even sometimes threatening, everyone to wear a mask. Let’s at least try to get to that point again—just as a start.
As Greek Americans, we can be stewards of a new way of thinking that incorporates the communal foundations of our heritage. Doing so could literally save lives, but it could also end the infection of tribalism and restore the sense of community we so desperately need. Also, I want to go back to Ikaria, so this pandemic needs to end. Soon.
Ryan Love was born and raised in a woefully average town called South San Francisco, California. Currently, he can be found either with his nose in a book at a local coffee shop, playing his guitar in spectacularly semi-intermediate fashion, podcasting with his friends, or hunched over his laptop with the preposterous resolve of writing the next Great American Novel. He also wrote his own bio entirely in the third person. To read more of his work, visit him at https://www.ryterlove.com/.