What has COVID taught us about our relationships with others?

Mr Keith Cawsey, Head of Religious Studies at Wimbledon High, looks at the impact that COVID has had on our local community and the impact that small acts of kindness have in helping those in need.

Last December, as I was sitting having a cup of tea with a colleague in the Humanities office, our conversation moved on to this ‘mysterious virus’ that was emerging from China. It was spreading through a city called Wuhan and no-one knew what it was or the impact it had on health. It seemed a million miles away, far, far away from SW19. We discussed what would happen if it travelled over to London, but we both agreed that this seemed highly unlikely. We all know what happened next. Case after case, COVID 19 crept closer and closer and took over our lives in a very short space of time and in a way that we would never have imagined.

I believe that COVID has taught us a great deal about ourselves and the community that we live in.

The first thing to happen was sheer panic. I remember visiting my local supermarket at 0700 when it opened. What I saw was nothing short of apocalyptic – people running through the supermarket (and over each other) to grab the last remaining packets of toilet roll. Quite a few had five / ten packets in their trolley and they then selfishly guarded their ‘booty’ as they waited at the checkouts. Others snatched bread, milk, eggs, teabags, meat, butter – whatever they could find and piled their trollies sky high with food so that their families would not be without. What followed in the news? Pictures of bins piled high with out of date food and meat. It seemed that the whole country had become increasingly selfish and the only people who mattered were the people in their families. What had happened to us?

Every religion is unique, but what is particularly interesting is the similarities between them. One thing that stands out as a ‘golden thread’ from all worldviews is charity and caring for others.

Indeed, every religion encourages its followers to care for others, particularly the poor and vulnerable.

  • Hinduism teaches about ‘atman’ – the aspect of God that is in each and every one of us. As equals on this planet, we need to protect every living thing, including animals.
  • The Buddha taught about compassion and how to alleviate suffering, ‘dukkha’.
  • Guru Nanak taught about the importance of providing for others, physically and spiritually.
  • Jesus Christ taught us to ‘love your neighbour’.
  • At the heart of the Jewish faith is ‘Tzedakah’ – a religious duty to provide for anyone in need.
  • One of the Five Pillars of Islam is ‘Zakah’ – 2.5% of all income is shared amongst those in society who need it most.

As we all know, you don’t have to be religious to feel a moral duty to help others. Humanists believe that by helping others, we make society fairer and it is an obligation of us all to provide for those in need.

So while some where piling their trollies sky high with food that would go to waste, what happened next was nothing short of a miracle. As most of us sat safe at home, we started to think about those in our community who carried on regardless: our refuse collectors, our post people, policemen and women, our firefighters, our nurses and doctors. I am sure that no-one will ever forget standing on our doorsteps clapping for our NHS workers who went to work each day putting themselves in the eye of the storm, quietly, diligently and without any fuss.

It became clear to me that in the middle of such a national catastrophe, there were two types of people – those that cared only about themselves and those who put themselves out to help others in whatever way they could – a phone call / a doorstep conversation / a text to people who lived alone. Streets became connected like never before. People were knocking on their neighbours’ doors. Shopping lists were exchanged and those who were shielding were cared for – food deliveries were made. We realised that even though we were scared about the pandemic, it was our moral duty to care for those who needed us.

In Merton, the following charities helped those in need:

  • The Faith in Action Merton Homeless Project
  • Merton Giving Coronavirus Fund
  • Merton Mutual Aid
  • MVSC Covid-19 Community Response Hub
  • Stem4 (Teenage Mental Health Charity)
  • The Dons Local Action Group
  • Wimbledon Food Bank
  • Wimbledon Guild

Some volunteered, others gave tinned food outside supermarkets and others were able to give a financial contribution.

We realised that even though we live our separate lives, the one thing that unites us is our community.

We will be talking about the pandemic for years to come but I hope that the one thing we will reflect on is the power of community. We will never ever again take for granted the tireless work of our NHS staff and our key workers and we should all aim to keep the conversations going with our neighbours.

We are stronger together and we should always aim to be kind. These are the connections and relationships that really matter. Happiness is sometimes a cup of tea, a meal cooked by someone else or a text from someone who you haven’t heard from for a while. These acts of kindness can often cost very little but are invaluable to the recipient and really matter.

Let’s hope that we are turning a corner with COVID and can get back to a ‘normal’ life soon. But when we do, we should always remember the connections we have made and the power that our community has when we truly work together and show kindness and love for one another.

‘For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in.’

Matthew 25:35

If you would like to support Wimbledon High’s Christmas 2020 Project please do visit our Christmas Firefly Page where you can find out all about our Access to Learning Project, where we are raising funds to support the purchase of computers for pupils in two of our local primary partner schools, enabling their pupils to access learning when they are at home owing to self-isolation requirements. If every pupil in Wimbledon High raised just £10 each, we would have raised over £10000 in total, enabling the purchase of 40 iPads or laptops!

Why do babies in medieval art look like mini adults?

Helena, Year 10, looks at the different influences on medieval and Renaissance art, and how this changed the portrayal of children and babies in art.

Last summer, I visited the Uffizi Gallery in Florence, which is full of amazing Italian art from the medieval and Renaissance periods. Whilst there, I found it amusing that all of the babies in earlier artwork look less like babies and more like old men, such as in Madonna and Child by Bonaventura Berlinghieri, painted between about 1260 and 1270. Or in Paolo Veneziano’s Madonna With Child, painted in 1333. At first, I thought perhaps these artists had just never actually seen a baby, or couldn’t paint them, however, these odd-looking babies were actually very intentional.

Above: Madonna and Child, Berlinghieri
Above: Madonna with Child, Veneziano

Most medieval babies were depictions of Jesus

In the medieval period, most portraits of children and babies were commissioned by the church, which greatly limited the range of subjects to Jesus and a few other babies in the Bible. At the time, portrayals of Jesus were heavily influenced by homunculus, which translates from Latin to mean ‘little man’. They believed that Jesus was born perfect and unchanged, which was reflected in the artwork of the period, as he often is painted with similar features as a wise old man. Over time, this homuncular, adult-looking Jesus became the norm, and artists depicted all babies in the same way.

Medieval artists were less interested in realism

This unrealistic way of painting baby Jesus actually reflected a much wider trend in medieval art; unlike the Renaissance artists, they were far less interested in naturalism, and tended to lean more towards expressionistic conventions. This can be seen in both of the paintings above, as like Jesus, Madonna also does not look very realistic.

How the Renaissance changed medieval conventions

Non-religious art flourished

During the Renaissance, Florence’s middle-class prospered, and art was used for more purposes than the decoration of churches. Unlike in the medieval period, where common or even middle-class people are rarely portrayed in art, during the Renaissance more people could afford to commission art and portraits. Therefore, as portraiture expanded, and people did not want their own children and babies to look like homunculi; realistic, cuter babies became more standard. Eventually, even Jesus began to be depicted as the more cherub-like baby we would recognise today.

Renaissance idealism changed

During the Renaissance period, artists became more interested in naturalistic and realistic painting styles, unlike the more expressionistic style used by the earlier Medieval artists. There was a new interest in observing from the natural world and this extended to include babies and children as well as adults.

Children were viewed as innocents

In this period, a transformation in the way children were viewed was underway. Instead of tiny adults, babies were thought to be born without sin or knowledge and were therefore innocent. This changing of adult attitudes was reflected in artwork, as babies began to look much cuter, younger and more realistic than before.

It’s probably a good thing that post-Renaissance attitudes to children have prevailed, as I think we can all agree homunculi babies are not the prettiest!

Is nihilism really hopeless?

Nietzsche

Anya, Year 13, explores what characterises nihilism and investigates the worth of nihilism; it is hopeless or actually positive?

Nihilism, according to the Oxford Dictionary, is the rejection of all religious and moral principles in the belief that life is meaningless, which, strictly speaking, does sound quite despairing. Yet, however hopeless the Oxford Dictionary would have us think it is, nihilism can allow (perhaps surprisingly) room for personal, moral and spiritual growth.

Nihilism undoubtedly stems from pessimism. Indeed, Nietzsche, the German philosopher and scholar who is often associated with it, called nihilism “the most extreme form of pessimism”.

The path to becoming a nihilist starts with weariness and a loss of faith in social, legal and cultural values widely held in our society. When people begin to feel alienated from their values and do not replace their value system with any other known system, such as a new religion or political philosophy, they become nihilists. They are disappointed with the egoistic nature of ‘truth’ and ‘morality’ but at the same time recognise that those things are necessary.

Often, free will seems contradictory: we depend on a value system that doesn’t exist and have depended on previous value systems which we have seen crumble. Each time we encounter a new system we conform to those values, we feel bound by them and those of us who rebel, i.e. criminals, are cast out from society. If none of these systems ever even existed, as the nihilist claims, we are just going around in a cycle of limiting our life choices for no reason. Basic values such as getting an education or a good job are placed in a sphere far beyond what is reachable.

The nihilist realises that every time someone begins to talk about “the real world” they are merely talking about a fictitious world because, from a nihilist perspective, every category used to measure and qualify our world is fake. In summary, the beginning of a nihilist lifestyle sounds a lot like the act of giving up and becoming a recluse, not to mention very dejected.

However, Nietzsche claims that nihilism is a necessary step in the transition to a devaluation of all values one holds. He outlines two distinct forms of the philosophy: passive and active.

Passive nihilism is characterised by a weak will. This is the kind of nihilism commonly made reference to in popular culture, which brings about little more than mental exhaustion and no change. A passive nihilist would see the emptiness of general external values (such as various social constructs) and project that onto individual internal beliefs (such as what you feel is good and bad), which results in a loss of personal authority. This type of nihilism can truly be called hopeless. Passive nihilism plagues the mind, often resulting in the person attempting to remove all responsibility from themselves, as the mind seeks to hold onto something that isn’t arbitrary, which can lead to one searching for hollow escapes such as excessive drinking, meaningless relationships and general “self-narcotisation”. Yet any attempts to escape nihilism without actually re-evaluating one’s own values only makes it worse.

On the other hand, active nihilism is characterised by a strong will. This constructive nihilism goes beyond simple judgement and moves on to action, specifically, the destruction of the remaining, meaningless status quo and the rebuilding of values and ethics through thought and reason. The will is made stronger still by forcing the recognition that practically all our value systems are in fact devoid of meaning, whilst at the same time having the power to accept that this meaninglessness serves a purpose, as ironic and oxymoronic as that may seem. Nietzsche claims that this form of thought is “a divine way of thinking”. An active nihilist will recognise the necessity of the lies and oversimplifications of life and begin to value the irrationality of how we live, as these are the conditions which must exist in order for people to truly have the ability to think for themselves.

It is important to note that nihilism does not replace values, at least according to Nietzsche, but rather makes room for those values to be broken away and reconstructed. Nietzsche stressed that nihilism is merely a means to an end, and not an end in itself. In this way, it becomes a form of existential nihilism, a contradictory principle in which we accept that values are meaningless and fake whilst building new ones for ourselves. Active nihilism opens doors to revaluating and more importantly, constructing new values for ourselves. In this way, we achieve a sense of freedom as well as infinitely greater insight into ourselves and the people around us.

Thus, nihilism is not inherently hopeless, instead, it can be said to create hope, as it pushes us to change, ask questions and find answers for ourselves. Active nihilism is certainly necessary for any kind of social, political or religious revolution. To paraphrase Sartre, if our life is the only thing we get to experience, then it’s the only thing that matters. If the universe has no principles then the only principles relevant are the ones we decide on. If the universe has no purpose, then we get to dictate what its purpose is. So, whilst a loss of faith may lead to nihilism, nihilism leads to new hope.