The Speed of Change

As we come upon a year of working from home, I’ve been reflecting on what was happening just before that pivotal day of March 17.  That’s the date that I remember as the turning point, as it’s the day STA went home (although the official MA shut down was the following week).  But there are other significant dates that stay with me, and what amazes me is the extremely short time frame in which our world was turned upside down.  The exponential change that occurred within a short 2 week period is mind-blowing.  Reflecting back, I honestly cannot believe what we were still doing just days before we collectively realized the severity of what was happening around us.  

Saturday February 29

The first date that sticks with me is Feb 29.  It is the date of the first (confirmed) death in the US.  Up until then, we certainly knew about the pandemic, but it wasn’t impacting the US (or so we were led to believe).  I found out while visiting my then 98 year old aunt in a senior living facility.  I heard it on the news in the common room, where just a few weeks earlier I had attended their winter gala – a fabulous party with lots of food on platters being shared, dancing, hugging, drinking – just a few weeks earlier (and after the first cases in the US were reported).  I was relieved that my aunt had not heard or seen the news on the TV, hoping to not worry her.

Later that evening we had a fabulous dinner at our friends’ home.  We talked about what was going on while dining on a gourmet feast.  We were aware and concerned, but it seemed like a distant issue, and did not even think of canceling our gathering.  (This was our last unmasked indoor gathering, still have not had another)

Thursday March 5

The next significant date is March 5.  That day was a particularly wild example of our “we do a lot in one day” lives.  I started at 7 am at the Girl Scouts breakfast – this is an inspiring event that I look forward to every year, and I’m not the only one.  It draws several hundred people into a hotel conference facility, and we sit side by side eating breakfast while listening to inspiring talks from women leaders and girl scouts.  At the event, there was a little acknowledgement, awareness that there was something going on out there.  Instead of the usual hugs when seeing friends and colleagues, we jokingly and (almost in a sarcastic, exaggerated way) elbow bumped.  “Aren’t we supposed to do this now?” we’d say.

From there I went to a site visit and meeting, back to the office with my team, more meetings.

In the evening there was another large event, the Women in Design IMPACT Exhibit opening.  As co-chair of the WID Award of Excellence, I was beyond excited about this event, a celebration of all of the past awardees, drawing 300 people, including many of the past awardees.  Again we gathered, we drank, we shared platters of appetizers.  We elbow bumped some of the time.

As if it wasn’t a full enough day, David and I went from there to a show – the amazing  Dutch Rebelle at the Museum of Science Planetarium.  Outstanding show, under “the stars”, side by side with all her fans, full house.

I estimate that I encountered 1,000 people that day.

Wednesday March 11

The day started with a big design presentation.  We presented to the full executive team of one of our clients, and although the presentation went pretty well, the clients were really not focused.  During the meeting they were getting some intel about possibly needing to close some facilities related to the pandemic.  

Later that night, David and I did what we used to do so very often – we went to a show.  The Murder Capital, an Irish post-punk band was playing their first ever US show at the Once Ballroom in Somerville.  Yes it was a Wednesday night.  The show was unbelievable, there was moshing (not us!), we chatted with the band, and some friends.  I remember having a little pause about being there, but from what we were hearing, we were not anywhere near the point of deciding to not go.  We did keep some distance, and didn’t get as close as we might have otherwise (and no moshing).

The next day The Murder Capital’s entire tour was canceled.

Later that year the legendary ONCE closed for good.

The Murder Capital at ONCE

Thursday March 12

Despite a late Wednesday night rocking out, I had an early morning student presentation.  I’m often invited to interior design schools to talk about our firm and the profession, and I look forward to it every time.  I was in the middle of my presentation with the students when all of their phones went off – they had just received a school-wide message that the school would be closing and going virtual as of that day (I was their last in-person class)

Friday March 13

On Friday March 13, we decided that STA would close our offices for 2 weeks, and begin working remotely.  We were not already set up to do this, so we quickly engaged our team to set up remote server access, and made a plan for everyone to transport their computers home. I remember sitting in our conference room googling “zoom” – I had heard of it as a possible video tool, and we did a test run.  Our Living Lab topic became this – how are we going to work from home for the next 2 weeks.

STA’s First Zoom Call

But I remember feeling that we were being very safe and proactive – ahead of the game.  The situation was still not being presented as an emergency.  For that reason we still considered possibly going to 2 more shows that weekend!  Saturday would have been the Dead Kennedys, and Sunday would have been AntiFlag.  Both were canceled at the last minute.

Monday March 16

We were in the office on March 16, as we could not pull off the transition completely by Monday.  It gave us a chance to celebrate Imran’s birthday, and we knew enough at this point to have cupcakes instead of a cake (no sharing)

Tuesday March 17

On March 17, we went home, and we all know all too well how things went from there.

My point in recapping this is to illustrate just how shockingly quickly things can change.  As I write this, I’m amazed that I was side by side with band members and concert-goers, clients, students, hundreds of conference and event attendees – just days before we all would collectively know that we would never even think about doing these things, for a very long time.  A lot of this has to do with the information that was made available to the public about the severity of what was going on.  But we are also responsible for seeking out the information that so greatly affects us. Was it some collective denial or lack of information that kept us doing very public things right up until the last minute of March 17?  Perhaps a bit of both.

As human beings, we need to learn from this, and we have learned from this, the hard way.  As designers, we have never been more important to the health, happiness and success of people and communities.  We jumped into situations to address immediate safety and productivity challenges, and will continue to help people and groups through and beyond this time.

But the lesson we need to keep in mind is that things can change dramatically in a very short time.  Certainly individuals experience life changing events in an instant, but this is the first time that the whole world collectively was experiencing drastic, immediate life-changing events at once.  We need to be as aware, as informed, as prepared and as adaptable as possible to respond to the unexpected.

I’m often asked what impact the pandemic will have on the future of design.  People want to know about space separations, amount of space per person, dividers, etc.  In my opinion, we aren’t there yet – there is too much in flux to know where this will land.  What I do know is that there will not be one new “trend” or response to come out of this.  The key will be adaptability, a keen awareness of outside influences, and a hyper understanding of what each person and community needs to be safe and thrive.

– Felice.