Birthday Thoughts

Today, I am turning 46.

It is also my first birthday being a dad. That is incredible in retrospect.

Six years ago, on my 40th birthday, I reflected on my career and personal life. I set up two goals: to get tenure in six years and to find a partner in the following decade.

Gladly, I achieved the first goal last year. Now looking back, I found myself being conservative for the second one. Shortly after I wrote those words, I met Igel in Toronto (Mar. 2017), got engaged two years later (Mar. 2019), got married a year after (Aug. 2020), and now, amazingly, just became a dad (Dec. 2022). In less than six years, I have finished a home run! 

Still, given my extraordinarily long student life and the postponement of personal matters as a result, I am an old father. Hopefully, with the wisdom accumulated in the past decades, I can do the job fine.

As Lumiere enters our world, life will change dramatically. Watching her grow is amazing, and we also hope that in the process she will help us grow. At least for me, I want to remain true to myself, but also getting transformed by the expanded family, to be less self-absorbed, to better balance life and work, to find new meanings, and perhaps hope, in this troubled world.

On parenting, a colleague assured us: "There is no better place to be."

Usually at my age, mid-age crisis kicks in. There are certainly many challenges ahead: raising Lumiere, further developing my career, taking care of parents, dealing with endless logistics, among others. There is no set path for everyone. But as long as I remain open and honest, and willing to seek help when necessary, I think I should be OK.

All joy and no fun! That may be the paradox of parenting. It is a unique experience of co-growing with another person. It is also quite different from career goals: I can set up a concrete goal to try to accomplish it in certain years. But parenting is different. There is no set time limit; it is a life-long learning experience. To recognize that, I would say, is a powerful way of shifting my perspective on life.

With that in mind, I am not setting up any concrete goals here. I want Lumiere to be healthy and happy on her long life journey. It is my pleasure to take this journey with her, to explore the world together and to find the inner truths of myself.

New Year Resolutions (2023)

Another year has passed. Now we are entering 2023!

2022 was a transitional year for me. In Sept., I became an Associate Professor officially. Since tenure promotion was such a long process, the tail of it was not as exciting as the moment in 2021, when I got my first book published. It was an important confirmation nonetheless, which means that I can relax a bit and think about my future career goals and other dimensions of my life.

Life was as busy as usual. Without the tenure pressure, everything seems to slow down, and I have to admit that I didn't get as much done as what I listed in 2022 resolutions. It is also about the change of mode for my research. Instead of putting everything aside and just focusing on work, it is better, and more sustainable, to have a routine work schedule, properly balanced with other things in life. Still learning that...

There was also a major change in my life that dwarfed everything else in 2022: I became a dad. As writing of it now, I still couldn't believe it. It started in Hawaii in March, and Igel and I believed that we were blessed by a goddess residing in the Mount Ka'ala, in which we hiked. Afterwards, we paid numerous visits to the OB office, MFM, and blood clinics to assure the proper progression of Igel's pregnancy, which consumed much of our time. In retrospect, those visits have become nice memories of the bonding between me, Igel, and the baby. The delivery itself, which just happened less than two weeks ago (Dec. 20), was quicker and smoother than we expected, as we were supported a group of nice, genuine, and capable nurses and doctors. In the blink of an eye, the baby was out, which has changed my life permanently!

Two days after our baby was born, a historical blizzard hit Buffalo, taking the lives of close to 40 people. We gave our baby the name Lumiere, hoping that she can bring some light and warmth to this tough winter, and soften the firm realities of this world. 2022 was not a good year for the world. Russian's invasion of Ukraine in March, and the ensuing war have claimed numerous lives and cast an ominous shadow on the stability and peace of the world. Chinese government's draconian policy on Covid control for most of the year, followed by an astonishing quick abolishment of that policy in the last month of the year, has led to disastrous consequences, making this winter particularly harsh, if not cruel, for many. After more than three years of the pandemic, it doesn't seem to cease soon in China.

Locally, Buffalo also suffered two traumatic hits in 2022. The TOPS killing of 13 Blacks in May and the historical snowstorm that ravaged the city around Christmas. Authoritarianism, racism, climate change—2022 renders a sobering reminder that this world is far from being fine. As a historian, the relentless realities of this troubling world only confirmed that history is not always in progress.

In this bleak moment of Buffalo, and the world, we welcomed Lumiere, who gives us a flickering light of hope. We had a very good experience during and after the delivery—many colleagues and friends sent good wishes, gifts, and prepared food for us. It is precisely such human kindness, bonding, and solidarity that offer us hope during the longest nights of the winter.   

My resolutions for the new year will be a moving target as our little boss will decide many things for us. So here is a tentative one:

1) On work: Get some development for my second book project, including a) send the review article out soon; b) finish the camphor paper and the edited volume. Meanwhile, get the Chinese translation of my first book done. 

2) On fellowships: I hope I can get one this year (CCKF or IAS at Princeton). If not, give another try this fall.

3) My post-sabbatical leave is coming (2023-24). Make the full use of it, coordinated with childcare. I hope I can spend some time in China. We will see how it goes.

4) Spend time with Lumiere. This will consume lots of my time, happily. It is also a way to support Igel, so she can get more of her work done.

5) Have a new routine, coordinated with Lumiere's schedule. Don't stretch yourself too much. High efficiency during confined hours is the key.

About twenty years ago, when I was reading Ray Huang's autobiography, I saw a picture of him working in his study, piled with books, with his little child sleeping nearby. Now I am doing the same, at a relatively old age, just like Huang! To juggle between work and childcare, that is not an easy task, but a good challenge to take. Good luck!

APT Decision

February 17, an eventful day.

The Friday prior, I received an email from the Dean's Office, telling me that my tenure dossier was being sent to the APT Committee (Appointment, Promotion, and Tenure). This meant that my tenure case would be evaluated again at the college level, by a committee of 11 members across departments in CAS. This is something that I anticipated—my Chair told me that sometime in February the second round of assessment will take place. A mixture of nervousness and excitement. I was allowed to read the Chair's letter and the non-confidential part of the dossier, which are all reassuring. I didn't know when the meeting and voting will happen—sometime in the following two weeks, I thought.

Then lots of things happened in the past week, which distracted my attention. Thursday was a particular hectic day, as I was busily working on a matter of house mortgage with Igel. I was also going to give a Zoom talk next day, so didn't think of the tenure vote at all. 

Around 6:30pm, when we had a break after an intense day of phone calls and calculation of numbers, I suddenly saw a message on my phone, "Good news! Do you have time for a quick call?" I was pretty sure that I saw this message early in the day, but ignored it because I thought it came from an aggressive broker—they often start the message with "Good news!" Only now did I realize that it actually came from my Chair.

I immediately realized what this was about. The meeting must have taken place early today, a bit earlier than I thought. My Chair called me in a minute, and told me that my case received an unanimous yes. "It is an easy case and the meeting was rather short," he related. He said something else, like praises for my work, some clarification questions from the committee, etc. But I was too overwhelmed to hear them clearly. Igel was standing nearby, eyes full of tears. My response to the Chair was a bit too effusive and dull—many thanks, appreciation, feeling speechless, and the like. Honestly, I feel lucky to have an extremely supportive Chair. From the time he became the Chair in 2019, his support for me and Igel has been tremendous, not just on my tenure case, but also on the complicated issue of my green card application that has consumed me a good amount of time in the past year. Maybe the result would be the same should I have a different Chair, but a good Chair makes the journey much more pleasant.

It was a strange moment. Although this is a big deal—the APT decision is crucial since the rest is basically a bureaucratic routine, and the result is not a surprise, I couldn't feel the same level of euphoria compared to the official publication of my book last summer or the notification of the departmental vote on my case last October. The main reason, I guess, is that at least in my school, the APT decision usually follows the departmental vote, so I didn't anticipate a surprise. Plus, I don't know the majority of people on the APT committee, unlike the situation for the departmental vote, so it is an emotionally more detached process. The timing is interesting, as if this is a godly message: just as I was doing something most mundane and uninteresting—dealing with house mortgage, I received the positive affirmation of something I have pursued for almost two decades, something I call dream. This is rather ironic, isn't it?

Perhaps this coincident is sending a signal to me: it is about time to change the mode of living, from a laser-focused effort on securing my tenure and a living still like a graduate student to a more comprehensive and multifaceted life of a true adult shouldering more responsibilities beyond my own interest. Doing something I like is the most rewarding thing in my life, and I often find myself lucky to have the luxury of time and resources to pursue my goal and postpone other more mundane and routine things in life. It is about time to change that—I can delay those necessities, but cannot shun them forever. The temptation and momentum of remaining a perpetual spoiled child is high, but that is not realistic or even desirable. I must have a broader perspective of life and adjust my way of living accordingly.

It is a strange moment also in the sense of what is happening in the world. The Winter Olympics just ended in Beijing, yet what attracted more people's attention, at least in my circle of friends, is the chained woman from the Feng County. The absurdity of the tragedy and the anger it evoked among people is heart-wrenching. Compared to that, my little good news appears quite trivial, even meaningless. There seems to be a huge gap between my world and that world. Again, as an intellectual and a conscientious human being, what can I do to go beyond the self-fulfillment in my small, comfortable niche to contribute to the public good, either in this country or in China? Something to think about after the tenure.

New Year Resolutions (2022)

As usual, it is time to reflect on the year of 2021 and plan for the year of 2022.

Worldwide, the pandemic is still plaguing the globe, sickening and killing many. Although we had some moments of seeing the end of this seemingly never-ending odyssey—especially during the summer, the rise of omicron cases recently has made any assured optimism premature. The pandemic has been with us for two years, and it may not end anytime soon, unfortunately. I said at the end of my last year's resolutions that I remain cautiously optimistic, an attitude I have to continue holding this year.

The pandemic has affected many of my students, unsurprisingly. Some contracted the virus; others struggled with the negative consequences in their lives—taking care of their parents, finding new part-time jobs, etc. Some of my colleagues observed a clear sign of students' worsening performance under such duress. I didn't see too much of a decline, partly because I became in a sense an "easier" professor who loosens the rules to give students an easier time. At this moment of crisis, I often ask myself what is the ultimate goal of the higher education. Why should students care about their grades? What are they good for? I always thought that receiving a good education, and learning new knowledge are the basic needs of every citizen in the society. Yet having been working at a public university for more than five years and seeing many students from working-class background who try to make ends meet, I realized, gradually, that such an abstract and idealistic notion may not be compelling for everyone in our society, especially during an unprecedented pandemic. They need to find a job after graduation; they need to survive. I don't know how much this will change my future teaching, but at least it is something that worth contemplating. The higher education may be fundamentally changed after the pandemic.

Professionally, 2021 was a crucial year for me and I am glad that I have accomplished several major tasks listed in my last year's resolution. Above all, my first book was published on time in June, which was a huge relief. Given a decade of its making—and 15 years since I switched my career, it felt unreal to see the monograph finally out. Since its publication, I spent quite a lot of time giving book talks and interviews, consummated by a joint book launch on poisons that happened last month. In other words, I have been "consuming" my first book in the past six months, and I am tired of it. Now I am eager to return to the "production" stage, that is, reading and doing research for my second project.

The timely publication of my book certainly helped my tenure case. I submitted my tenure file in May and August, and did my best to enhance my dossier up to the beginning of October. Later that month, my department voted unanimous yes on my case, which made me very happy. There will be two more rounds of voting at the higher levels of the administration this year, and I should know the final result sometime in May. There is not much I can do at this point, just waiting for the final decision and hoping for the good news.

I also made some progress on my green card application. It has been a long journey, which I didn't anticipate at the beginning of 2021. With perseverance, hard work, and the support of my chair and many generous scholars around the world, the application was finally approved last month. Big relief indeed. After living in this country for over 20 years, finally I was able to get this practical issue settled.

There are other memorable moments in 2021: A trip to Acadia National Park in August with Igel, another one to Adirondack in the fall, and some local hikes. Life continues to be busy, and sometimes stressful, but we try to make the best of it by doing something fun and soul-soothing in this precarious world.

Here are my new year resolutions:

1) Make some good progress on my second project on aromatics. Finish an article manuscript on camphor by April. Finish another article on the history of aromatics by August.

2) Prepare for my sabbatical year in 2023. Apply for a few fellowships in the fall for my second project. Let's get a national fellowship, like Igel!

3) Finish several leftover projects on poisons, including one article on du/pharmakon to be submitted in the summer and one article of gelsemium to be submitted later this year. The article on the psychedelic drugs is still up in the air.

4) Make good progress on the Chinese translation of my first book, working with ZHY. Hopefully it can be published by the end of the year and make a splash among Chinese readers.

5) Make good progress on the rest of the green card application. Hopefully we can get our cards by the end of the year.

6) Develop a healthy routine of life. I have to admit that I didn't do well on this last year and I hope that I can do better this year. Don't stay up no matter what. Get up at 8AM and go to bed at midnight everyday. Give the best time to research everyday and handle logistics in the evening. Save Sunday each week for logistics and relaxation.

7) Keep reading. There are many distractions in life, but don't forget the joy of reading, either academic books or novels. Devote half an hour to reading before the bedtime, and read on Sundays. I hope I will read more novels this year!

8) Reduce the time of handling emails. Don't proofread your emails unless it is necessary. I was always lagging behind with my emails. With more administrative duties coming, I must be more efficient and practical in handling emails. Don't be unnecessarily obsessed.

9) Exercise more and keep it as a habit. Exercise at least three times each week (jogging, biking, swimming, indoor exercise). Try to do a local hike or walk during the weekend every couple of weeks.

10) Eat healthy and take good care of the body. Try to reduce 10 pounds so I can reach 150 lb. Eat routinely, more vegetables, and do my best not to eat dinner too late.

11) Handle some logistical works, including house organization and repairs. I was planning to get some of these done last summer, but never finished them. I should not postpone these long-overdue tasks anymore. 

12) Continue Duolingo on German and start thinking what other language I want to learn.

13) Develop a new hobby. How about picking up tennis in the summer? 

14) Have at least one trip with Igel to a national park or somewhere cool. We both need that badly!

15) More writing on this blog. I know this is part of my resolutions last year, which I didn't accomplish. Let's hope that I can do better this year!

Supposedly, 2022 should be a more relaxed year for me as my tenure pressure has been reduced. It is a transitional year for me. The key is to establish a healthy routine and work/life balance so I can have a sustainable career and life!

First book

 

My first book just came out two weeks ago! (June 27)

It is certainly a special moment in my life. I don't know how many more books I will be able to publish, but the first one is probably the most memorable.

It is a book of a decade's making, which is not unusual for an academic monograph. Ten years ago, in the summer of 2011, I was searching my dissertation topic in Cambridge—what a beautiful summer!—and gradually this project on poisons came into focus. I also started this blog during that summer (June 13, to be exact). I don't quite remember why I picked this topic—I think the poison/medicine paradox intrigued me. In that sense, the project started from an intriguing idea. Although the book has added more dimensions, that core has remained more or less the same.

But these are technical details after all. Holding my own book now, the memories go far beyond my Cambridge times. Back in Michigan days, in the fall of 2006, I was taking my first graduate seminar in humanities with Christian, who just started his AP position in History. One of the readings is a section from Benedict Anderson's classic Imagined Communities. I read the piece in a seminar room at the basement of my department (Biology), which is my favorite secret spot, and asked myself, "How is it possible for me to write a book like this?"

That was a different moment of my life. Although I was determined to switch my career, I still had lots of self-doubts. Even if I am passionate about humanities, can I do it? To write a book in English, at that moment, felt like climbing Mount Everest.

I still have doubts about my writing in English today. For a non-native speaker, those doubts probably will never go away, and that is not necessarily a bad thing. But the publication of my first book gives me reassurance. Language is not a formidable barrier to develop my career, though I can always improve it. What's more important is the idea of the book, and research behind it. In other words, substance matters more than style.

As an untenured scholar, I was lucky to have two generous reviewers who offered positive reports. In retrospect, I wish the comments could be harsher, to push me to further enhance the book. As a person who is always self-critical, I know well what are the pitfalls of the book. But as Katy told me, the first book is always functional—it builds upon the dissertation; it meets the tenure requirement; it confirms my scholarly capability. If nothing else, I got it done on time, which helps my tenure case. The next book, as Katy pointed out, could be more ambitious and bold.    

On the day of my book's publication, I made an announcement at several social media, upon Igel's push. I am not good at, or even interested in, self-promotion, as I don't enjoy being put in the limelight. But this is a special occasion—once in a decade, so I made a splash. Many congrats poured in, and to my pleasant surprise, I received warm words from some old friends, from Michigan days, Cambridge days, and beyond, whom I haven't been in contact for a while. It is touching to get connected to these old friends. Although I still don't enjoy fame—publishing an academic book is hardly a world-shaking event—I do cherish these beautiful friendships. Without their support, I won't be here.

I often joke with Igel that once I publish my book, I won't have any regrets even if I died. I am 44 years old, so this may sound too passive a thought. I guess that given the unique journey I took in the past 15 years, I am still somewhat amazed that I have reached thus far. I would like to say to myself: Congratulations. Your determination and perseverance have paid back.

Of course, I couldn't do this all by myself; many people helped along the way. It is a journey that started from a self-driven initiative, but has pulled in many kind and intelligent souls over the time. As K said before, writing a book is like paying a debt. He meant paying a debt to all those great writers who produced inspiring books. In my case, I am paying a debt to all those people who have supported me over the years. The book is not an affirmation of anything; it is just my way of saying thank you.

The post-publication days have been hectic due to the social media splash. I am here to reflect and remind myself of the 15-year journey I have taken. Life doesn't have that many 15 years, but I am very happy that I have put my past 15 years into good use. It is a somber reminder that if I do something I really like, I can survive, even flourish. It was no doubt a hard decision, but I am very glad that I made that decision.

Be proud, be humble, and more on, Yan!

 

   

 

New Year Resolutions (2021)

One year ago, when making my new year resolutions for 2020, I was embracing, rather optimistically, a new and promising decade. I would have never expected what happened soon after that and throughout the year, an unprecedented pandemic that profoundly changed the world and each of our lives. Quite opposite to what I hoped, the new decade started in such a dark, if not abysmal, fashion that simply getting back to normal life has become an extravagant wish.

As a historian, and a historian of medicine, I should've known it better. Similar episodes happened before—the Black Death, the 1918 Pandemic, to name two prominent precedents. I often imagine that I presciently predicted what was to happen when nobody believed my premonition, like a sage. Of course, I am not a sage, not even close; I am just a junior scholar studying my own things in medieval China. Historians, by definition, always look in retrospect. 

But this devastating pandemic, which is still unfolding, is after all sobering in an urgent way. The world will not be the same again, and each of us has been changed as well in the process. In the early part of the year, when the situation quickly escalated in this country, I was tormented between working on my own stuff and doing something for the greater good. I guess I was not alone in this struggle; many academics felt, and are still feeling, useless when facing such a global crisis—why aren't we real doctors? Eventually, I still focused on the former, feeling guilty of shunning social responsibilities. The question will continue lingering with me in the years to come. Hopefully, once my career has reached a more secure state, I can think more and do more on this. I don't claim to try to save the world; I just want to make myself a bit more useful, in however minute way, to the society.

On the personal level, this past year was not bad at all. Again, the fact that my life hasn't been affected much by the pandemic speaks how privileged I am. Not only do I still hold my job but I can continue the job without much interruption. Of course, I was stuck at home all the time; I couldn't go to libraries to borrow books; I had to offer online teaching. But compared to others, many others, who were at the edge of survival, I consider myself very lucky. On top of that, Igel got a new job at Buffalo, in the middle of the pandemic; we got married in the summer; and after that we moved to Buffalo more or less smoothly. Life was busy and stressful for academics, especially in this tumultuous year, but we have nothing to complain. It can be much worse, easily.

So what is my new year resolution of 2021? I have to say that given the lesson of the past year, I cannot wish too high. When I went though the list of the eight items on my 2020 list, I was happy to see that I managed to finish the major tasks, including completing my book manuscript, almost finishing the revision of my saffron paper, and getting married. Again, by not engaging in what is happening in the larger world, I was able to finish these things. The upcoming year will be a critical one for my tenure as I will submit my files in May. I thought I am in a good shape, but I cannot take things for granted and must do my best to continue strengthening my case. So here you go, my new year resolutions for 2021:

(1) Submit a strong tenure portfolio in May. This includes: a published book, the saffron article hopefully already accepted, the ISIS review, the ETHOC encyclopedia piece, and a submitted article manuscript on jealous wives. If I can get all these five components done, I would be very happy.

(2) The second half of the year is harder to plan in advance because it depends on a lot of ifs. If I get a fellowship, and travels possible, I will spend sometime in Asia, exploring my second project on aromatics. That would be fun. If that doesn't happen, I will just continue my routine life in Buffalo.

(3) And routine is the keyword. In this year, I, together with Igel, must establish a good and healthy routine of life. This means to get up early (8AM) and go to sleep early (12AM). Make the best of the daytime for work so we can relax in the evening. Try to save an hour each day to read non-academic things (before sleep) and save one day of the week (likely Sunday) for relaxation and shopping. This is really the key to controlling our life rather than being tossed around by millions of distractions. We will work on this together so we can develop the best schedule conducive to our work and life. We certainly have role models.  

(4) Exercise. This is one goal I didn't do well last year—still weighing more than 160lb. Let's see whether I can achieve that this year. Admittedly, the pandemic has made certain exercises difficult, such as swimming, but at least I should continue jogging, cycling, hiking, and taking walks with friends and colleagues. A healthy body is the foundation of everything. Relatedly, Igel and I should have a thorough examination of the body—for better performing in revolutions large and small!  

(5) Spend more time in dealing with logistics. These include: green card application, Canadian visa application, house repairs (summer project), etc. I know they are boring and not my cup of tea, but I have to handle them as an adult, and family man.

(6) Some travels, possible later in the year. This includes a conference in New Orleans, and possibly a holiday vacation with Igel in the winter. We have to see.

(7) Keep Duolingoing German. I have an impressive record of 467 days in a row. Let's make it to 832 days in a row!

(8) I would also like to write more stuff here. I know it has been dormant for quite a while, and in the past years I rarely posted anything except new year resolutions. Casual writing serves multiple functions—reflective, meditative, therapeutic. I want to resume the cultivation of this space, perhaps writing down something weekly or biweekly, to ponder both the inner self and the world at large. 

Finally, and this may sound superficial, if not hypocritical, I do wish the world will see a better year regarding the control of the pandemic, with less people suffering and dying from this terrible disease. It will take us many more years to reflect and perhaps change some of our ingrained habits and practices. And that is probably not a bad thing. 2021, I am cautiously optimistic!

COVID-19 Dairies (1)

March 31 (Tu)

Today I started to write dairies on COVID-19, suggested by Igel. As of now, the number of the infected souls worldwide has exceeded 800,000, among whom 175,000 are Americans, something unthinkable a month ago. Is it real, or are we living in a dystopian novel? In his Motorcycle Dairies, Che tells an extraordinary and life-transforming story of his cross-continent travel in his youth. My dairies will be of a very different kind. As most of the states in the US have issued a stay-at-home order, we have been sojourning at home all the time, working, cooking, and worrying. I don't aspire to be as famous as Che one day, but do hope that my dairies will be a window through which I can reflect on the unprecedented unfolding of the global crisis, both as a historian of medicine and as an ordinary human being. The experience is destined to leave an indelible mark on my life, for better or for worse. But mostly for better, for I wish we can survive the crisis and the world will be a better place. Stay tuned.     

April 1 (Wed)

A day of low energy. The pandemic is still evolving quickly—the number of cases in the US has passed 200,000, among whom more than 5,000 died. An alarming acceleration. We didn't pay much attention to the outside world as we were occupied by our own businesses—Igel kept investigating her H1B visa matter and I agonized over the revision of my book Intro. Between the public and the personal, we chose the latter. But not exactly. Igel gave a public talk this evening—via Zoom, obviously—reflecting the current pandemic especially its racial implications. We brainstormed for the talk, but regrettably I didn't listen to her talk. As a medical historian, I felt it a shame. I was too obsessed with my own little world of getting out the writing block. Did I make the right decision? Maybe not. Well, hopefully, I can get out of this low-energy quagmire soon. In this swirling moment, that is the least effort I can make.

April 2 (Thu)

Today my energy level came back a bit. I finished a subsection in Intro that has pained me for quite a few days, so I am glad that I eventually got over it. Hopefully I can keep the momentum and finish the revision of Intro soon. Now more on the pandemic. I encountered two pictures in NYT (see below). The curve of the US is quite deep at the moment: So far, more than six thousand people perished, and based on the current curve, the deaths will double every three days. UK and Canada have the similar rate, though they have less deaths thus far. These are numbers, but we know that human lives cannot be simply reduced to numbers. In the CNN news we watched tonight—we have developed a routine recently to watch PBS or CNN news on YouTube over the dinner—we watched a harrowing story of a New York doctor (Dr. Frank Gabrin) who died of COVID-19 while trying to save others. His husband was interviewed by Chris Cuomo, who himself contracted the virus lately, and the widower was in tears. It was painful to watch, and we know there are many stories like this around the country. It feels particularly agonizing as what happened in China two months ago is unfolding exactly the same way now. An excruciating déjà vu. On the positive note, if we look at the second picture, Washington is doing pretty well: the number of deaths doubles every 11 days. Compared to New York (every two days), that is quite remarkable. Although Andrew Cuomo is much more vocal and splashing big waves in the news, Jay Inslee might be the real hero who has quietly saved many lives. As Benjamin Franklin rightly said: Actions speak louder than words.