Hello, World!
If you ask someone about their experience living through the coronavirus pandemic, you are likely to hear about the isolation they felt from their communities, the worries they had about their health, the uncertainty they were thrown into when it all started.
But chances are, at least in my experience, you’ll also hear more uplifting sentiments, too. People will tell you how they came together, quarantining with family they hadn’t spent real time with in years. They’ll reveal the choices they made to keep others safe, like staying home from a small wedding when they got a sore throat. And they’ll show you how they responded to these unexpected times, making something meaningful out of their days while everything around them was falling apart.
For me, the story is the same. I’ve felt lonely, scared, and uncertain about the future. But those feelings have been crowded out by others. The belief that although we are apart we can be together. The hope that my family, friends, and neighbors will be safe and healthy. The inspiration that helps us navigate change.
Six months back, I had a plan. After graduating from high school, I would return to Shelburne Farms in Vermont, where I had worked during previous summers. There are many things to like about working at Shelburne Farms—the staggering natural beauty that surrounds you, the delicious cheese available to sample, planting crops and watching them grow—but for me, something else was drawing him back.
It was really all about being a part of their community. I grew up spending summers at Shelburne Farms’ camp programs, and formed so many special relationships with people from all walks of life—relationships I still hold close today. Shelburne Farms has become a sort of symbol for all the warmth and welcome I’ve experience in my time in Vermont more generally, and I wanted to return to that after the stress of finishing up high school.
Then the global pandemic hit, and everything came to a halt. Public events and concerts were postponed indefinitely. Restaurants started shutting down. In May, Shelburne Farms announced the decision: all summer camp programs would be cancelled. Their decision—which was the right one, of course—meant that I wasn’t going to be able to support Shelburne Farms in the way I had planned to. So I looked for other ways I could help.
With my background studying painting and all the masks I’ve seen around lately, I started thinking about how a mask is really just a blank canvas. The mask is the first thing people see these days when they look at someone, so I wondered whether that could be used to express the importance of Shelburne Farms in my life.
So, I asked the staff at Shelburne Farms if I’d be able to borrow their logo to prototype a few masks. Megan Camp, Vice President and Program Director at Shelburne Farms, after hearing the pitch, was thrilled by the idea. In her words: “It’s a no-brainer, really—a way for people to show the love they feel for Shelburne Farms while marketing our work to everyone they talk to. I mean, sign me up!”
The positive response I received has me wondering whether other Vermont nonprofits would be similarly enthusiastic. The question I’m now pondering is: how big could this get?