Just as spring is in the air we find ourselves in the early days of pandemic in America. It’s important to remember that this is the beginning as the virus moves silently and efficiently through us where it can.

With eyes on the experiences of the Chinese, Italians and elsewhere, we are clearly in the early stages of the pandemic. When widespread testing eventually finds its patients, when incubation ends and populations start getting sick and dying, only then will we start to see just how big this thing is. Then the hard part begins.

My studio has had every shoot for six weeks cancel or reschedule to an undetermined future date. Paying work is now non-existent. March will have little to no revenue for us, and since our work as photographers needs people, work will stay on hold until the summer, perhaps longer. Consequently, we might lose our studio space and even our business. It’s too early to tell, and our government hasn’t been clear on what kind of support a little shop like ours can expect.

Since 1997 I’ve been using my camera to make photographs for people. In the studio with me are three other wonderfully talented photographers who depend on our shared creativity to make ends meet. I don’t take the prospect of losing the cumulative efforts of 23 years easily or lightly, nor the consequences to my business partner and co-workers.

But in the end it’s merely money and only a business. I will always make photographs, whether I am paid or not. There’s always more money, and businesses can be restarted and rebuilt. As photographers our business is people, and people can’t be restarted or rebuilt, but we can adapt and change. Looking at what happened in countries where government policies put business as usual ahead of population health, the consequences have been undeniably disastrous with so many people sick and dying. The truth is that my economic reality is low in my mind, because my mind is preoccupied with my parents and grandparents, aunts and uncles, mentors and friends who can become ill and pass away because of an overwhelmed health system.

I pray our institutions over-react to this virus, and we have few illnesses and fewer deaths as a result. After this is over and we say ‘we went too far,’ then we will know we went just far enough. The catastrophic alternative is we all lose somebody to this disease. Recession and personal inconveniences are small prices to pay for the lives of so many people, to keep the fabric of families and towns more whole. The difficulty and sacrifice of social distance, of staying home, the catastrophes of closing businesses and even facing financial ruin, these pale compared to the loss of those we love and cherish. Every death is a loved one to someone.

Make no mistake, we are now at war, but not with a virus enemy. We are at war with our own selfishness, blindnesses, biases and greed. The damages we suffer will be increased or reduced by our collective action, or lack of collective action. This pandemic must be taken seriously, and we must remove ourselves as much as possible from the physical company of others, it is the only way to save ourselves.

At this moment we are also being given a unique gift. In our time of busy, rushed lives and fears of missing out, we are being given time. Great big buckets of time. Time to pursue hobbies, projects and passions. Time to discover or rediscover family. Time to clean the house or cook or chat in video with friends without rushing to the next thing. For once, reading that book or magazine or listening to that podcast, time to use as we please rather than use as is demanded. We can all embrace the great staycation. How this gift is used is up to each and everyone of us.

In this crisis, we are all being individually tested, and the sum of our actions will resonate across history and across the lives of our families and communities.

Our greatness is not in our military, or our economy, or the innovations we develop, it is in ourselves, the people of America. The great pandemic of 2020 will be our finest hour.