To Never Be Alone

Last Friday, I finally graduated. 3 months of intensively studying design with most of the course completed online, in self-isolation. One of my classmates said it had been ‘an emotional rollercoaster’ when we caught up on Zoom last week.

I took a big risk of joining this course in the first place. I had moved to Sydney only a few months before and had finished a freelance gig that had only just managed to pump up my savings modestly. Financially, I’d just have enough cash to get me through 3 months of study, but I’d absolutely have to be ready to start working the day the course finished (May 22nd) because I calculated I’d have $0 by that point. 

The Big Sick

4 weeks in, and 20 of us students stared numbly at the staff as they stood in front of the classroom as told us the campus would be closing and we’d be transitioning to online study due to COVID-19. 

“We were told we’d have a graduation where people from the industry would be invited to view our work!”
“We paid $14k for a face-to-face course. No online course costs this much. Will we be receiving a partial refund?”
“How do we study something as practical as design alone at home watching digital tutorials?!”
“I might have to fly back home before Australia closes its borders. What are my options?!”

As you might imagine, more concerns rolled in. After tousling with administration, over half of the class deferred the course altogether, leaving 9 of us behind to try and navigate their new digital system.

I’ll admit that the first few weeks were bleak. On top of the challenging study environment, I was out of my mind with worry about my folks. They had recently moved to Qatar and my dad’s office seemed reluctant to allow their employees to work from home, even though some of them, like my dad, were very much in the high-risk category. I knew borders would be shutting down soon, and if either of them fell ill, I wouldn’t be able to fly over to help them. I also was grappling with extremely high anxiety and had begun talking to my therapist about medication before we went into quarantine: how on earth was I supposed to cope with all of this? 

The tide turned very quickly for me. As stories from friends and family flooded in about losing jobs, having issues with housemates, shocking death-tolls, rationing food, home-schooling, shredded wages, pre-existing health conditions and accommodation issues—I realized how privileged I was. I was a single woman living alone in a two-bedroom apartment in Sydney. I’d quit my job weeks ago (and therefore had chosen to be unemployed and a student), and my parents were in a position financially where they could help me cover my rent and expenses. I quickly started to view my situation as a unique blessing that a lot of others weren’t able to experience. I also had two very helpful conversations with my dad and my friend Fatima:

“With my anxiety, I’m finding this online course so difficult. I really don’t think I’ll be able to achieve the results I wanted. I gave up a lot to do this, and now I won’t even have a job afterward! What was the point of it all?”

“Ava, we’re all having to readjust. In my company, we’re having meeting after meeting to redefine targets for 2020. If large, multinational corporations are having to pivot, isn’t it fair that you might have to? Lower your expectations, reset your goals and do the best you can. That’s what we’re all doing.”

To Fatima, I said “having to switch to an online course, from what was such a productive classroom environment, is the worst possible option. This is going to be awful.”

Fatima simply replied “or, you could produce the best work you’ve ever produced. How can you know what the outcome is going to be?” which brought me back down to earth very quickly.

I set up a desk in the sunniest part of the house and decided to take these new COVID-time lessons to heart. I was, inarguably, in a very fortunate position. I could still do the best I was capable of and, even be open to positive possibilities in the future. 

This is when my TCK training kicked in and transformed my COVID experience.

Forever Friends

I stacked my laptop on a few books and boxes so it would sit at eye-level. One of them was a gift box was from my little sister and her partner from about 3 years ago, when I lived in Melbourne. Another was the book ‘Bosom Buddies’, which my friend from high-school, Steph gave me (it ended up informing a very successful project in my final portfolio).

Paul, my good friend from Tokyo, sent me two beautiful watercolour postcards that I tacked up next to my class notes and I stored a fist-full of pens in my Tweety-bird mug. Ever since our first year together in college, 12 years ago, Chaddah had taken to calling me “Tweety” and I’ve toted this mug across several different cities since. Farah, out-of-the-blue, stopped by my place a few cities ago with a black and silver box of chocolates, just because. I kept the box on a small set of shelves beside me, with my notebooks and old print outs, and ended up using the box design to inspire a packaging task we had to complete in class. 

The list goes on: a metallic notebook from Dubai, creative stationery from Mumbai, a TWG carry bag from an airport where I was saying goodbye to friends, a design book from a mentor in the Middle-East, a decorative glass bottle from dinner with friends in Bali before a wedding, local art from my cousin in Colombo, and museum ticket stubs from a trip with a best friend in Berlin. 

Where many were also struggling with the isolation that came with the lock-down, I never ever felt alone. My friends and family and these moments we had together surrounded me every single day. Because I had experienced physical distancing from my loved ones my entire life, I was lucky I had gotten into this habit of collecting and carrying memories and moments with me, so I could re-experience them, no matter where I was. 

This, I realised, is the beautiful part of being a TCK: you are made up of a tapestry of people and places that you can revisit when you wish, even if you’re home alone. It’s such a rich, diverse, and rewarding way to live when you embrace what you’ve had, instead of what you’re missing.

I organised zoom catch-ups, dinners, and movie nights too, and messaged and called my friends regularly—what I’ve also always done with those who are out of reach. To my utter delight, my anxiety eventually lowered to a low-level buzz as I chose to focus on the positives and surrounded myself with the people in my life that I loved the most. And I did end up producing some of my strongest creative work during the course after all!