A Letter of Love to the Residents of Detroit During COVID-19

Spring had indeed sprung in the city of Detroit. I was quarantined after developing symptoms for COVID-19 and had not physically left my house for 14 days. But on this day, I finished my work and ventured out to soak up the Vitamin D my skin had been craving since last fall.

My unplanned path through Elmwood Park took me past an empty playground and unoccupied tennis courts. But what I saw next made my eyes squint in disbelief: a basketball court full of people engaging in close-contact ball. I was struggling to understand how the safety precautions blaring nonstop and the numbers swirling about Detroit’s inequitable rate of demise seemed to go unnoticed here on this court.

As a clinical psychologist and assistant professor in public health, I wanted nothing more than to run up to my neighbors and encourage the use of physical distancing and gloves and to work on their jumpers rather than full-court presses up and down the court (oh, your girl used to ball back in the day).

But I did not have on a mask, nor did I know how contagious I remained, so racked my brain the rest of the walk trying to figure out just what I could do to keep my neighbors healthy, happy, and safe during this time of grief, despair, and loss. Since my recovery, I have been engaging in daily 30-minute practices to improve my mental health while quarantined. That day, I wrote and mailed a love letter to a former partner right before seeing my neighbors. And, after coming home and speedily tweeting the Detroit departments of Health and Parks & Recreation to post signs at parks, I realized that, instead of trying to enforce a law, I wanted to encourage through love.

And so the answer was simple: I would write another love letter to the Black community in Detroit.

love always

Source: Riana Elyse Anderson

My beautiful, resilient, and courageous brothers and sisters, I see you. I need you. And most importantly, I love you. As a born-and-raised Detroiter, I am unsure if you feel seen and heard by the leaders of our city. I am unaware if your job laid you off during this time. I do not know how much you have taken in of the rhetoric of who you must be because of where you live. But today, you will know that I love you, and the desire I have for you to be well comes from the depth of my soul. I can only survive if you survive. You are the puzzle piece to my wellness, and I need you to get through this so your unique contribution to the world continues to manifest over time.

No one stops Detroit. We have been through it all and have had our name and reputation dragged through the mud. Now, in the midst of a global pandemic, our city is back in the news as one of the national epicenters for high rates of diagnosis and racially inequitable outcomes. Although the disease does not discriminate, we live in a city that has, with quality of, access to, and utilization of resources and health services wildly discrepant across zip codes and social identities.

Beloved, please remain at a distance that will make it harder for the virus to pass between you and others. Remember, just because you are not “sick” does not mean you do not have the virus. Please do not touch shared things (like a basketball), because hand-to-hand/object contact can spread the virus. And please make sure after you are out that you wash your hands thoroughly so that you do not potentially harm yourselves or others.

I love you neighbor, and I pray that we will all get through this together. Who knows? I might show you a thing or two on the court when the time comes for us to gather together again.

Until then and with love,

Riana