Reflections

My name is Megan Grabill, and Chandra Grabill is my mother.

Over the past few months, I have found tremendous value in turning my gaze inward and documenting the experience of quarantining in my home. In a way, it is good ethnographic practice; truly “making the familiar strange”. Doing an oral history on my own mother brought us closer. She spoke about things in a way that she would not say to me normally, and it was interesting to hear her reflect on her work in a new setting, where she was being consciously recorded and knew she was making something to be consumed. A mediated conversation like this is never quite the same as an “authentic” one (though I don’t know how comfortable I am with labels of authenticity); but in this case it allowed me to access a different part of my mother beyond our dynamic as mother and daughter.

I found her reflections on what it means to provide mental healthcare through a screen, particularly in a time of immense stress and tragedy, honest and articulate, and hope that you do as well. While some of her thoughts are specialized and specific to her work, others tap into something much more universal, and connect to a wider conversation about the importance of showing love and building community during a global catastrophe.