Bronlynn by autumn bland

Bronlynn’s first Stay at Home portrait was captured outside of her apartment building, the former YMCA located downtown. Her second and third portraits were captured just around the corner, at Lock 4 park, one of her frequented spots where she can be caught reading a book while enjoying a coffee from Akron Coffee Roasters. 

For Bronlynn, the pandemic allowed her to spend time better understanding herself and realize what fuels her. She has taken time to discover how to find, and refine, her voice in the world. “I live my life by these three pillars: Never stop creating. Never stop learning. Continue to help others,” said Bronlynn.

In July of 2024, Bronlynn started a new job at the Cleveland Foundation. “I reached a point where something was off with my three pillars and I needed to separate my work self from my community self,” she said. “It was too intertwined and I was sacrificing my own mental health.

Taking the leap to the Cleveland Foundation gave me the opportunity to learn different skills. A community foundation operates very differently from a private foundation, and with that I’m learning an entirely different culture in a different city than the one that I grew up in. That has it’s positives, but it also has challenges. I feel a little bit more removed from Akron, which is kind of liberating in a way because I’ve been readjusting my relationship to this place in a way that's much more healthy. But it’s also sad because I don’t know what’s going on in my home to nearly the same extent.”

Bronlynn expressed that this change gave her the break she needed—helping her restore her mental heath, grow in personal relationships, and create art. “I was struggling to find my voice around my art and not feeling like an artist. Since then I've picked up pottery and printmaking. I had a big solo show in a gallery. Another show at a coffee shop that was showcasing my printmaking for the first time and then I did a entire show around my market haul photos.

In January of 2025, Bronlynn’s mother fell ill with pancreatic cancer. “It happened so rapidly. In February they said we had six months, and she passed away weeks later. It was the day before my birthday. Although it was a short period of time between the diagnosis and her passing, we did get to work through some of the complicated aspects of our relationship. But it’s hard to think that my mom will never see me get married, she will never see me get my PhD or finish a book. I'm now the owner of her home. She will never see what I've done to it [the home]. I thought I would never go back to this house and here I am returning to it and making it my own. She will never see all of these other things that I do with my life. 

This experience of losing her has reshaped my life in a way that the pandemic did. I turned 30 at the start of the pandemic and discovered a whole other person beneath the surface. Now I'm 35, my mother has passed away, and I'm like “oh, there is a whole other world beneath, with more layers that I didn't know were there.” I have shifted jobs. I'm in a different relationship than the one I was in in 2020, I am about to move into the home that I grew up in, but also the first home that I own outright. It’s a weird place to be and I’m still in the midst of processing it all.”

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Imokhai by autumn bland

Imokhai was first documented in June of 2020 as part of the Essential series with for his work with Freedom BLOC. He had just graduated from law school and was ready to take the bar exam, which kept getting delayed due to COVID. In September, Imokhai was finally able to take the exam. “It was a wild time,” he said. “In the midst of all the delays, I was debating on what to do. People weren’t hiring during COVID but I thought I might as well finish this out. I kept wrestling with what to do. Then I passed the bar the first time and worked for a global law firm, which was a good opportunity. I started off making crazy money, got a downtown Cleveland apartment, it was fun for a while. I got to try a lot of new things, new restaurants, clubs, go to parties. But eventually it stopped being fun and it wasn't as fulfilling as I thought it would be. 

I wanted to be a trial lawyer. I wanted to be working with people, but I found myself at a job where I was working with corporations. There were 200 attorneys at this law firm just in the Cleveland office and only four of us were Black. 

Then you start to learn about the clients we were defending and you find yourself on the wrong side of things. The firm represented big tobacco companies that were manipulating consumers for profit. People were dying. I got wrapped into work on a bribery scandal in Ohio. This was evil. Behind the scenes they’re just trying to siphon consumers and take all this money just for profit, but every day people are suffering.

I was billing $450/hour. It felt like dirty work. I tried to make up for it by doing a lot of pro-bono work all over the country. I got a lot of opportunities to help people but it didn’t fill my cup.”

With the desire for a more community-centered life, Imokhai moved back to Akron in September of 2022. “I learned more about politics, culture and developed my own real analysis about what is actually going on,” Imokhai said. While still working at his corporate job, Imokhai continued his work with Freedom BLOC and other organizers in the community. He was heavily immersed in the community efforts to bring justice to Jayland Walker’s murder. He applied to be on the Akron Citizens' Police Oversight Board. Though he was qualified, passionate about this work and had a lot of community support, he didn't get on the board. Two months later, a grand jury ruled that all officers were cleared of criminal charges for Jayland Walker’s murder. “I was disillusioned with this corporate life. Disillusioned with this idea that you can work at these systems and to try to make some change. I just really wanted not to not be so tied to the system.”

In June of 2023, Imokhai quit his corporate job and started his own law firm in Akron: The Okolo Law Firm. “It's been a struggle. I don't make nearly as much money as I made at the law firm, but I'm so much more happy with my day-to-day. The money is not as important as living a life waking up every day feeling more alive and feeling like I'm actually doing something I want to do,” he said. “I’m not just some shell of a person, I’m actually a full human being.”

Imokhai also started a program called People Feeding People, which consists of 7 core people who travel around Akron weekly to pass out free groceries. The program is growing and gaining momentum.

“I'm doing work that I thought would be so cool to do. Following the lineage of folks like The Black Panther Party, Malcolm X—I found it important to continue this radical tradition fighting for freedom of deliberation of people. These things are possible to change with organized people and organized resources.”

Imokhai spoke about the clarity he gained over the past four years. 

“I think for me, I got a better sense of clarity on who I was and who I was potentially capable of being. I just felt like the direction I was going prior to the pandemic was not where I was meant to be going or where I truly wanted to go. I really believe in the concept “I am because we are”. This is a collective experience here and no one person can survive on their own. We need each other. If your survival is dependent on someone else’s lack of survival, that seems really shitty. We should change that.”

June, 2020

Freedom BLOC

Curtis by autumn bland

Curtis was first photographed in June 2020, as part of the second phase of the Essential series—people who were community focused. His role was Director of Operations for The Well CDC, a community development corporation devoted to creating shared neighborhood prosperity through housing, economic development and placemaking initiatives. 

“In my role, I was responsible for employee wellbeing and operations at The Well,” he said. “During the pandemic, I was studying and revising policy procedure. I was visiting the Summit County Public Health website daily. I had to suspend some employment. We were just trying to survive. It certainly made me anxious, but I understood the responsibility that was necessary.”

Curtis has a devotion to volunteerism and service to Akron, which was all put on hold or reconfigured as a direct result of the pandemic. He was named President of the Akron Urban League Young Professionals in the beginning of 2020 and held that position for 2 years. “I had just gotten started in this role and then the shutdown happened,” he said. "We had to change expectations, and change entire plans for the program. We couldn’t collaborate in person and had to interact through a different medium (video meetings). It was certainly disappointing because we started the year so strong—visibility, programming, we were executing at such a high level. I can’t say I finished strong, but I finished, nonetheless. If nothing else, I think legacy matters. The program is still thriving.”

In February of 2023, Curtis decided to leave The Well and take a year to do freelance consulting, focused on Black-led and grassroots nonprofit organizations. “The pandemic produced a lot of self awareness. The isolation forced people to reconcile with themselves. I decided it was time for me to move on to the next chapter. I was a part of something incredibly special at The Well. I look back on that time and can see that we grew something together. The people and programs I was directly responsible for have thrived in my absence. It’s a gift and I am grateful.”

Curtis started a job as Senior Fellow, Communities of Practice + Convenings of The People’s Practice at ThirdSpace Action Lab in March of 2024. “I staff the field-building efforts in our community development project, The People’s Practice. This is a unique opportunity to join a place-based, racial equity learning and design lab as part of an important national effort; contributing primarily to the national summit and regional action planning strategy and execution.”

For Curtis, much of his reflection is about transition and grief. “Transitions were swift across the board,” he said. "Policy and procedures, interactions with people, commitment with service to Akron. Grief isn’t always defined as loss, though I did experience a major loss in my life in the fall of 2020. Dr. Diana Swoope was a pastor, mentor, and a very prominent voice in my life. Every time I had to make a life decision, I would ask her to breakfast, AKA "consultation." Her spirit shows up in more ways than one. I’m always glad to celebrate her and say her name often. 

I was brought up in the Black church where hymns hold significant value. Many of which have not left my mind. One of my favorites is "Hold to God's Unchanging Hand," which simply says, "Time is filled with swift transition." The pandemic taught me this one thing above all else.”

June, 2020

Mateo by autumn bland

Mateo was first photographed in July of 2020 as part of the Pride series. He has experienced many changes since that portrait was captured—Mateo reflected on his journey to transition while navigating being newly diagnosed with Type 1 diabetes.

“I don't know any other Type 1 diabetics that are also trans,” Mateo said. “I'm sure they exist, but I've never met anybody. I was in a very specific situation where I needed to find a doctor that was willing to deal with all of this. I went to the Akron Pride Clinic. They were super understanding and helpful. There was a bit of figuring out how much T I should take. My doctor walked me through the steps of what to expect. It was a lot of hormones, insulin is also a hormone. My body was rapidly changing. I had lost a lot of weight because I had undiagnosed diabetes. Testosterone can make you gain muscle mass, so I was gaining my regular weight back and also gaining muscle mass. I kind of blew up for a second there, which is completely fine, but it was just a lot.”

During the majority of the pandemic and his transition, Mateo was a public facing service worker at 3 restaurants. He said that due to needing to wear a mask and having a deeper voice from the testosterone, he felt more confident at work. Family interactions, however, were challenging. 

“Because it was the pandemic, I wasn’t seeing my family often,” he said. I would go months without seeing my mom and then when I would see her she would say things like, “You look completely different.” That was kind of hard for me. I’m a momma’s boy, I’ll always be a momma’s boy. I would never not talk to her. My family could be more supportive. They’re not actively telling me to stop what I’m doing, but they’re also not acknowledging my transition.” Mateo expressed further that his family often dead names him and rarely use his preferred pronouns.

Being in a long term relationship during a transition was helpful for Mateo. His then partner, Hannah, was Mateo’s support system in the early stages of testosterone therapy. “She helped me understand who I was in ways that I couldn’t verbalize. I appreciated her being there during that time. I don’t know what the timeline of events would have been if she wasn’t there to encourage me, especially considering the way my family is. There are certain friends that voiced similar things as my family that gave me pushback when I was a teenager. I didn’t have the proper language for things back then. Teens now have the language to understand all of this.”

In 2024 Mateo started a job as a traveling chef for a large company which allows him to travel out of town, interacting with the public. “I have my own chef’s coat that says Mateo on it. People call me “sir”, its really cool,” he said. “I also have a lot more job security, which is nice. I’ve been doing more freelance cooking for people and I’m looking into getting my LLC.”

“I wouldn’t say there is some sort of an end goal as far as transitioning goes, but looking back to where I was four years ago and where I am now, I’m so much happier. It wasn’t all smooth sailing. There were many ups and downs. I appreciate my past for what it was, but I’m happy to be where I am now. Everything that I’ve had to go through, I would do it eight times over again if it meant that I could be here today.”

Emily by autumn bland

The first portrait I captured of Emily was during the Stay at Home order. She was working as an RN at an Emergency Department and was 8 months pregnant with her second child.

The first portrait I captured of Emily was during the Stay at Home order. She was working as an RN and was 8 months pregnant with her second child. One month after that portrait, I photographed her at home with her husband, Zack, their son, Leo, and their newborn daughter, Charlie. Emily gave birth to their third child, Ellie, in January of 2022. At that time she was working in an emergency department but changed jobs upon returning from maternity leave.

“Each pregnancy has been very different,” Emily said. “With Charlie, I was so scared coming to work–for my safety and her safety. There were too many unknowns and being in the ER was extremely stressful. But, since people were afraid to come to the hospital, we weren’t very busy, which made things a little more manageable. 

The third time around I felt more comfortable for my safety. We had learned a lot about COVID, and I was vaccinated and had a booster. However, the ER and hospitals in general were at maximum capacity. A new level of stress was rising because even our ICUs were full. I’ve never seen that happen before. It was exhausting.” 

Emily shared that the pandemic was the most difficult and overwhelming chapter of her nursing career to date. She pressed on and was able to make a job change after maternity leave.

“Leaving the ER was something I felt was very necessary. Between the chaos of COVID and work, I was bringing stress home with me daily. It was a cycle I couldn’t continue. I was unsure at first but it was necessary,” she said. “Now I work part time in an outpatient OBGYN office. I still get to be with patients but it's a lot less stressful. My work schedule allows me to be at home more often, which is where I want to be. 

I feel like my family needs me, my mental health is much better and I can be more present at home. Leo is six, Charlie is five and Ellie is three. Zack’s work has been steady and he has always been so supportive of whatever I need and whatever is best for the family. We are still in the same house and are enjoying our life here. We have ducks, chickens, goats, sheep, and ponds. We love being outside and we love being at home.

When I think back, I don’t regret anything. I love the experience I got to live. If COVID never happened, would I still be working in the Emergency Room? Maybe. It made me think that everything is for a greater purpose. Where I’m at now is the most stable I’ve ever been in my life. I did the best I could and now I’m where I’m supposed to be.

It makes me feel like this wasn’t all for nothing.”

March, 2020

May, 2020

Amanda & Erin by autumn bland

Amanda

Erin

Amanda and Erin were first photographed in the summer of 2020. “In that photograph, it was just us and our dogs, which was not reflective of what our life typically looked like,” said Amanda. “Our son Austin had left to live with his dad and Erin’s dad Larry was in the hospital, then rehab, recovering from a stroke. I think of when you took our photo, we had a lot of love and we were very happy, but we were so alone in a way that we hadn't been alone. Everybody that we were responsible for was out of reach. 

“Austin was having some trouble in school, but was college bound. Then the pandemic hit and it just undid everything,” Amanda said. “He stayed with his dad for spring break and then sent us a message saying, “since school is gonna be virtual, I'm not coming back.” He struggled with substance abuse, ultimately having a near fatal fentanyl overdose in December 2020. He went to rehab and was the youngest person there.”

Erin’s dad, Larry, came home in September of 2020 and they were able to continue their intergenerational lifestyle. Additionally, Erin and Amanda took in their three grandchildren after their daughter continued to struggle with her mental health and was exasperated by the pandemic.

“We had to tighten down and make sure not to get people sick. Lots of health and safety to keep in mind with Erin’s dad’s health and having three children in the house.”

Erin and Amanda were working full-time remotely through the majority of 2020 + 2021. Erin changed jobs when her employers were requiring people to come back into the office. “There was a huge push for everyone to come back in the office, which was counter-intuitive considering the next wave of COVID was happening,” Erin said. “It was too risky for my dad’s health, so I went back to consulting while taking care of my dad and I started job hunting. He was always so supportive and would ask how the search was going. The day I got the call that I landed my new job, I was able to tell him. He was so happy for me. That same day, he passed away from complications from his stroke. It meant a lot that I got to share the good news with him before he passed.”

Amanda worked as the Executive Director of Plexus LGBT & Allied Chamber of Commerce for one year when the shut down went into effect. “It changed the entire concept of what our organization was, but it was the best thing that probably could've happened. We always said that we are more than a networking group, but that was all that we really did, and then all of a sudden we couldn't network. We stepped into the space that we knew that we were in around diversity, equity, inclusion, and belonging training.”

When asked about the impact the pandemic had on the LGBTQ+ community, Amanda and Erin replied, “Some impact that we know happened was increased isolation, how hard that was, and how it might've prolonged folks coming out, especially younger ones. How it might've kept trans people from being able to access the care that they needed, especially to make their social transition. One thing that became prescient during that time was basically living through a plague. The HIV activists and those continuing to live positively with HIV had the recognition that within the queer community and queer spaces we have many immunocompromised.”

Life throughout 2020-2024 was eventful and scary, but full of love for Erin and Amanda. Their son Austin lives close to them and continues to work hard on his sobriety. All three of their daughters’ children continued to live with them and are thriving. Though Erin’s father passed in 2022, his memory is very much alive. Both women are still working and have started to enjoy a more social calendar since 2023.

“I think society is forever changed,” Amanda said. “There are moments of great intensity where you do not know if you’re going to make it through. Larry, through the stroke, losing him. Austin in rehab. Not knowing where our daughter was. Those were all really intense times. Everything was heightened because of the national tragedy we were all a part of. You really don’t think you’re going to make it through and then you do. I think one of the quotes that always stays with me is: “If you’re going through hell, keep going.” You don’t know what’s on the other side, but you come through one way or another.”

Al & Terry by autumn bland

Al

Terry

Al and Terry were photographed in the summer of 2020 with their dogs in their backyard. “That portrait was bittersweet because that was the day we had to put our dog Maynard down. We cherish that photo,” said Terry. Al and Terry have been together for 31 years and both retired before the pandemic. When I asked about their experience during the pandemic, they said: “We were basically stuck in the house, yet it wasn't a negative experience. We just sort of rediscovered each other and we enjoyed each other's company, so we didn't feel at a loss. It just confirmed the bond we have as husbands and as friends.”

A couple of years ago, Terry was diagnosed with stage four bladder cancer and has responded very well to the treatment.  Al has been diagnosed with a heart condition, called cardiac amyloidosis and is part of a trial study at the Cleveland Clinic. “He goes once a month for an infusion of a drug, which just got approved by the FDA and is very expensive ($405,000 per injection). Of course, insurance companies are fighting this expensive treatment, so most patients can't get the benefit. We just deal with it right now. We’re trying to support each other and we're both doing okay. We still go day by day, but we haven't cut back much on activities or anything,” Terry said.

Al and Terry volunteer for a group called Stage4, a ministry of St. Luke’s Anglican Church which provides comfort bags for cancer patients in the Akron and Medina areas. “The bags are filled with things a patient could use, especially during treatment,” Terry said. “Blankets, a journal, water bottle, puzzle books, stress balls for neuropathy, and more. We write a little note that goes in each bag.” 

With volunteer work being a passion for Al and Terry, they are still continuing their work with other organizations. Terry has been volunteering at Goodwill. Al reads to the blind and is part of the a ukulele quartet. “We have a ukulele, harmonica, and bass guitar and sing. We perform at independent living, assisted living and memory care units. It's such a good feeling performing for these people.” Al said.

Al and Terry shared a few closing thoughts about the past four years for them. “For us, a sad part of the pandemic was that a lot of our favorite places never came back to their full selves. Something as simple as our little Chinese restaurant is now strictly takeout. The pandemic destroyed a lot of small businesses. We try to support the little guys, but many didn’t survive. On the other hand, we did (and still do) enjoy just sitting outside at home. It’s very peaceful and relaxing in the nice weather and we love our home.”

Bonnie by autumn bland

Bonnie was among the first of the Essential portraits documented during the Stay at Home order. As a letter carrier for USPS for nearly 30 years, Bonnie was grateful to continue doing her job without too many changes. “I was thankful to still be working so I could be out in the fresh air,” Bonnie said. “But it was like a ghost town—Businesses were shut down, everybody was home. They mandated masks in the office, some people were getting sick and we got a bit short staffed. I never got sick, and I think not being in an enclosed space helped a lot.”

Early in the summer of 2020, Bonnie was attacked by a dog while on her route. “This dog was in an open garage on a leash, but managed to get out and came charging at me. I carry some of my mail in my arm, against my chest. That’s where I got attacked—he jumped on my chest and bit my hand. You cant stitch a dog bite and it took forever to heal because the bite was so deep,” she said. Bonnie was out of work for two months—she used sick time but never applied for workers’ compensation. During her time recovering, her youngest daughter was living at home while finishing her college education at The University of Akron. 

By mid-July of 2020, Bonnie was back to work full time and on the same route. The dog that attacked her was still an active part of the route, which was terrifying for Bonnie. “I was traumatized. I was scared to death to go up to that house every time. If the front door was open, I wouldn’t go near the house.”

Bonnie expanded on how her work has shifted. “Things have really changed, and I don’t think it’s because of COVID. We used to be really respected, we were essential. Now, we are treated badly—not by the community, but by the supervisors. There is a lot of micromanagement. This work used to be about customer service, but now it’s all about the numbers. We are tracked on GPS and heaven forbid we spend more than nine minutes at one location. We can’t even talk to customers anymore. It’s really sad.”

Bonnie celebrated 31 years with USPS in May of 2025. She is eligible for retirement, but will continue working a bit longer to ensure house payments can be managed. As a single mother of two daughters for 23 years, finances had been tight. 

When asked about her personal pandemic experience, Bonnie replied, “I can’t remember much, it feels like a lifetime ago. If my mom would have been around during COVID, it would have been really hard. She passed a year before the pandemic. I miss her so much, but I’m kind of glad she was not here during COVID. My older daughter is expecting her first child, my younger daughter has a great job in Cleveland and her own place in Lakewood. Overall we are doing well and although this job has changed, I’m happy I can continue working.”

March, 2020

RobbyGee by autumn bland

RobbyGee has been photographed multiple times throughout the Portraits of a Pandemic series. As a survivor and thriver living with HIV, RobbyGee has centered his life around providing peer support online, in person, nationally and internationally. He said that one of his greatest concerns continues to be the lack of communication about resources between peers and support agencies.

“I was diagnosed with GRID, now known as HIV, in February of 1983,” RobbyGee said. “At age 17, I was fresh out of 12 foster homes and homeless with no support system besides my faith. Contracting HIV was another devastating blow in my young life, which already felt broken. However, I began to develop strong coping skills. I accepted that my HIV was not going anywhere, and I decided it would not overtake my life. 

I had different plans before I was diagnosed, but this has helped me find my true calling in life. In my 42 years of life with HIV, I've lost over 120 friends and associates. I stopped counting in 1999. The loss was too much.”

In January of 2019, RobbyGee founded a grassroots HIV support group in Akron, called SSOULE Group, which meets monthly. In between meetings, he connects one-on-one with each attendee to offer support, information, and resources. “Nothing can replace the feeling of helping people. Until the day I leave this world, this is what I’ll do. It gives me a sense of purpose.”

After the Stay-at-Home order went into effect, two of RobbyGee’s sons (Andrew & Matthew) moved in with him. Andrew, a licensed CNA, remained consistent as RobbyGee’s caretaker. He is currently a community health worker, home health aid, CPR first aid instructor and is also in nursing school. Matthew had some struggles with mental health and addiction, resulting in a less consistent and more dangerous lifestyle for a large part of the pandemic. RobbyGee would often worry his son was in trouble or in danger. “Matthew is clean and sober now,” RobbyGee said. It took 10 years, it was a lot of work, but he is doing amazing now.”

In August of 2023, RobbyGee and his two sons had the opportunity to move out of their apartment and into a home in North Hill. They had been searching and waiting for a long time, hoping to get into a safer area with more room for the three of them. RobbyGee stated that over the years living in their apartment building, he witnessed 8 dead bodies, but now that he lives in a home in a safer area, he feels very blessed.

"I didn’t think I’d live to see 40, and I can’t believe I made it to 60! God is keeping me because of the work I do. God and me have an understanding that he will let me know when my time is coming—He told me about 5 months ago that it’s coming. I have beat death for so long and I’m not afraid to die."

RobbyGee sees his passion for helping others as a way to honor the memories of all those he loved and lost, with the ultimate goal of us all to living to see the end of the HIV epidemic. While much of RobbyGee’s work with the community has been volunteer-based, he has also been working for the Summit County Health Department for more than six years.

RobbyGee reflected on his overall thoughts about the pandemic. 

“The pandemic was scary because it reminded me of the beginning of AIDs back then, with so many people dying and not knowing how to handle it. I remember when I got COVID. I already had 3 infections, and then I got COVID. I was in the hospital for 3 weeks. My sister had been watching my Facebook though I didn’t know. As soon as I got home, she called me and we talked for 2 hours. Just to hear her voice alone, it was just amazing. I never got to meet my sisters. I don’t know why they chose not to meet me. Them knowing that I was gay and that I had HIV made it that much harder. I was hurt for a very long time and had given up. Now, I am planning to see my sister in Virginia. She knows I’m gay, but she also knows I’m doing God’s work. I just wanna put my arms around her and never let go.”

We don’t just survive today, we thrive today! We are our brother's keeper.”

September, 2020

Maple Valley

Liz by autumn bland

Before the pandemic, Liz Barton was working full-time at the Cummings Center for the History of Psychology and her husband, Mike, was running his own landscaping business. The pair had two young children and were managing to maintain a small farm with a vendor space at Haymaker Farmers’ Market weekly.  After the Stay-at-Home order in March of 2020, the Bartons were all home together, giving them the opportunity to work more on their farm as a family. Mike dialed his small business back and put the majority of his focus on the farm, which is something he had always wanted to do. “2020 was like the impetus of that,” Liz said. “Experiencing a pandemic and realizing that life is about doing the things you wanna do and not just always saying you'll get to it.”

Liz continued her full-time work, switching to a hybrid work schedule. By 2022, they closed the landscaping business, giving Mike the opportunity to have a full-time commitment to Barton Farms and Gardens. “We were already doing the farmers market and had an audience and some pretty loyal customers. Mike loves nothing more than being at home, gardening and farming so he was in his best element. We were all home together, which is what he really loves, too.

I feel that we were lucky that our kids were so young during the shut down, so it didn’t effect them much. Mike was home so childcare wasn't an issue, which was the biggest issue for a lot of people.”

As the farm scaled up, the Bartons were getting more involved with the community. They host an annual plant sale on their farm and had the honor of hosting the Haymaker Harvest Dinner on their property, which is a fundraiser for the farmers market. “It was rewarding because so many people that have been customers for a really long time and were able to come out and experience this farm to table dinner.

As president of Haymaker Farmers’ Market for 11 years, Liz spoke about her experience in that role during the shut down. She reminisced about the camaraderie of the board and volunteers from the market, saying that the market only had to close for one weekend while they came up with a solution to continue operations. “We created a drive-through market at the church where board members would volunteer weekly. People could order in advance or could just drive through the line. If it was available, vendors would put stuff in your trunk.

Something that the pandemic taught people was farmers in the community still had products that the big stores didn’t. A lot of farmers and small farms did well during the pandemic.This is what community is all about. We came together. The pandemic had obviously so many awful elements—lives lost, businesses lost. There's a lot of terrible elements, but there was this community effort to do good things and I think that it inspired people.”

June, 2020

Atwater

July, 2021

Atwater

May, 2025

Atwater

Rachel, Beau, Max, Amber by autumn bland

April, 2020

October, 2021

“Max is trach/ventilator dependent and has a rare genetic disorder which is a result of the malformation of the PIK3CA gene. Due to his extensive medical conditions, it’s been a scary time trying to decipher the misinformation and cope w/ the unknowns. His nurse Amber answers my endless questions and helps us take the proper steps to make sure that Max is safe and still progressing. She doesn’t just work here, she’s part of our family.” - Rachel, 05/01/2020.

Oct., 2021: Amber has worked with Max for 3yrs.

While Rachel has been tending to Max and Beau’s needs, she had some setbacks of her own health.

She shared: “A random serendipitous story."

“Long ago, I saw a commercial for a drug that treats a specific kind of cancer that results from a PIK3CA gene malformation. Amber + I discussed how weird it was that the two were connected.

6 months go by. I find a lump in my breast. I go to the doctor and he says he thinks it’s nothing. I express my concern because of the gene connection; he ordered the testing immediately.

We were able to catch the cancer very early. Stage 1, grade 1. By the time I had surgery a month later, it had already spread to my lymph nodes. Waiting 2 months would have drastically changed my diagnosis + treatment plan.

After years of doing everything I can to save Max’s life, he potentially returned the favor.”

Rachel’s follow up imaging came back clear! Recovery hasn’t stopped her from going to Beau’s baseball games, assessing Max’s medical needs, and trying to stay on top of a never ending to-do list.

“Andy, my fiancé, and I work well together to get everything done, but it’s tough sometimes because I just want a break.

We were hoping to get Max’s trach out, but it wasn’t in the cards. He’s working on standing, learning new signs, is in preschool doing therapies and improving weekly.

I’m constantly looking at everything we’re doing now + how we could be doing it better. I rarely take the time to admire how far he’s come. This was an excellent reminder to take a minute to pat ourselves on the back for not only surviving this last year and a half, but coming out the other side better.”

Iman by autumn bland

Iman and her newborn son Indigo were first photographed at their home in Cleveland in the summer of 2020. Shortly after, Iman realized that this home was not a safe place, so when Indigo was 3 months old, they moved in with a friend in North Hill. As a single mom with limited resources and no reliable options for childcare, Iman would pick up temporary jobs whenever she could, while still seeking permanent housing for her and her son.

“We stayed in North Hill for a year nine months. After we left North Hill, we were in a shelter for a week, then moved to a different shelter for a couple of months while we were waiting for our paperwork to go through,” Iman said. “The first shelter was a little rough, but the second one was actually kind of great because it was apartment style. You had your own bed and bathroom and then we just had to share a common space with another family, which was just the living room and kitchen. So it wasn't too bad.”

I asked Iman about the process of finding housing, and she explained: “For CMHA Section 8, you have to go to the movers class and then complete a RFTA packet that you and the landlord fill out. It takes about 30 to 45 days to actually be processed, sometimes it can take longer. Once you go through that, they do the inspection and you can sign the contract.”

Iman has gone through the Housing Choice Voucher Program twice for her housing. “The next place, hopefully we can stay for a little bit,” said Iman. “I'm not very keen on the area, it’s just what I could take right now. It's in a red zone, so it's not really cared for, unfortunately.”

For Iman, the pandemic felt like an opportunity to pause and reflect “It really helped me because it was the time of my life where I needed to slow down. Between having Indigo and a lot of stuff going on with my health, it was like a blessing in disguise in some ways, giving me more time to focus on my health and my baby. That's my theme now. I’ve been working with this fibromyalgia specialist and he's helping me understand what I need to do to continue to allow my body to restore some of its energy. I'm taking the time to get healthy and focus on me, because it's been so challenging to maintain work and family life. It’s been recurring themes: listening to my health journey and slowing down and pacing myself.”

 

July, 2020

Glenville-Cleveland

June 2021

North Hill

Maureen by autumn bland

In March of 2020, Maureen was photographed with her husband Jeremiah and their son Julian. Maureen was a teacher, just beginning virtual teaching while Jeremiah owned a piercing shop, Good Life, which had to be temporarily closed due to COVID mandates. 

“I was having serious anxiety and panic about teaching,” Maureen said. “By early March I stopped working for the most part because I was debilitated by anxiety and depression, which turned out to be a direct result of burnout. I remember thinking, “I don't know what's wrong with me. I can't function. I can't get out of bed. I'm so anxious. I'm having panic attacks." I'd never experienced any of that before.” Maureen decided to take work off through spring break, when suddenly the Stay at Home order was put into effect. 

“The timing was great. Jeremiah decided since he was already laying everybody off and figuring out what the new world looked like, he'd take care of Julian while I taught upstairs,” she said. “It was just like this symbiosis that worked out with our schedules. Then the school year ended, and I was able to take care of Julian so Jeremiah could reopen the shop.

I felt like the universe was conspiring to help me and I don't want that to sound insensitive because it was also a really scary time for the whole world. People died and people suffered, but it came at this moment where I didn’t know what was wrong with me and I needed time to figure it out. I needed my grind to slow down, and that's what I got.

I decided not to go back to teaching and I felt instant relief from my anxiety and depression. I felt this freedom to explore things that I always was interested in but could never do because I was teaching 60 to 70 hours a week and trying to be a good mom and manage all of these things. I started being able to dream again.

That summer I decided to go on a journey to become a gestational surrogate for two men who felt like family from the first time we met,” said Maureen. She and Jeremiah met Kevin and Eric and connected immediately. Soon after, they began their journey together.

In January of 2021, they transferred one embryo. At their 7-week scan, Maureen, Eric and Kevin were shocked to learn the embryo split twice and that they would be expecting triplets!

Maureen gave birth to three healthy triplet girls in September of 2021. Since then, Maureen and her family have been a regular part of Kevin, Eric, and the girls' lives. 

"My mom loves them so much so she and Jeremiah both pay visits. Julian comes with me and he thinks of the girls as his cousins. We get to see them quite a bit.

I couldn't have done this without the support of my family and these guys who wanted to take this journey with me. It’s really cool that even though this is my story, all these people were such important characters in it.”

I really do credit Covid for freeing up my life and giving me the space to dream of new things. I can do more with this slower life, where I can say yes to things again.” 

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Josy by autumn bland

Many people talk about the pandemic as taking time to slow down, to pause, to stay at home. This was not the case for Josy. As an actor, director, playwright, community builder, and arts administrator, Josy had a busy experience throughout the pandemic. 

Pre-pandemic and during a large portion of 2020-2021, Josy was working on her project titled, “HOME”, for which she was awarded a residency through Akron Soul Train. 

2021 was a stacked year for Josy. She continued her progress on “HOME”, she also was a Dramaturg and Playwright for al otro lado del rio, (Across the River) with the New World Performance Laboratory. This was adapted to meet COVID-19 safety protocols by making the piece a one-person show with limited audience seating and partitions between the seating.

In the summer of 2021, she became one of four co-leaders of CATAC (Center for Applied Theatre and Active Culture). Their mission is to embolden innovative performances and artist-centered events that nurture social change and foster community. That fall, Josy was named Associate Producer for the BorderLight Theatre Festival which takes place in downtown Cleveland. This multi-day festival hosts dozens of artists throughout a variety of spaces, showcasing diverse performances. Josy continued this work through 2025.

Josy’s hard work did not go unnoticed as she was awarded Woman of the Year in the category of Creativity by the Summit Historical Society in 2021. Additionally, Josy was named one of the Great Akron Chamber of Commerce “30 for the Future” and received the Summit Artspace Arts Alive award in 2022. 

Josy has a passion for activating spaces that might not otherwise be activated, helping people change the way they view their lived environment and experience places in a new way. She’s done this through multiple performances beyond the “HOME” project (which premiered inside of a West Hill home). Her performance “FREIGHT" activated a freight elevator, and "if a tree falls," was an outdoor movement piece about Black Joy that incorporated a tree into the performance. 

“I don’t understand how people process anything without art or movement, even if it's just physical processing. I use a lot of my work to stay connected to people, even though I am introverted. I use my art as a form of processing and connection."

Josy’s growth expanded to include theatre lighting. In 2023 she received a Creative Investment grant through ArtsNow and the Ian Patrick Schwarber Foundation to learn the ETC lighting program for theatre. [then completed the FOCUS Apprenticeship through Dobama Theatre, where she was paired with lighting designers and theaters in Northeast Ohio to continue to hone her skills. This lighting interest led to her first lighting design project in 2024 for “Nine Lives”— a multimedia jazz performance performance created by Chris Coles. With a continued strong interest in lighting design, Josy is furthering her education in architectural lighting design to receive her Masters Degree.

“The world is noisy and so much is happening,” Josy said. “It's sometimes hard to know what to do. To be an artist gives you a task in the resistance whether that be showing Black Joy or questioning human evolution, it gives you an action. A thing to do. Posting isn’t enough for me. Going to protests isn’t enough for me. What is the thing I should be doing? I think art is the thing.”

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March, 2020

West Hill

Emily by autumn bland

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Emily was the first person photographed for this project. Just after our photo shoot, she was cross-trained to work in the Emergency Department in anticipation of an influx of COVID patients.

During the Stay at Home order, elective cases were postponed. The only patients she was seeing were mainly trauma, with the exception of when she would float to various floors to help out when needed. “Everything stayed pretty similar, other than how much additional PPE we were wearing,” said Emily. “We are a little over-the-top in the OR. Since we already know if a patient is COVID-positive before they enter, we put on full gear.” She painted a picture for me: the staff wear knee high boots, full suits with hoods, double gloves, N-95 masks with a disposable mask over top of that, then a face shield over the hood and masks. 

Though her job did not change much, Emily’s life outside the hospital was just the opposite. Sadly, Emily’s younger brother Patrick took his own life in the fall.

“He always told me (which I hated) that he found comfort knowing he could always take his own life if he got too low.” Patrick grappled with bi-polar disorder much of his life. Emily being the caregiver that she is, looked out for him the best she could.

Patrick spent a small stint of time in jail last year. He was looking forward to transferring to a work-release program, but he got into a fight and was placed in solitary confinement. While in solitary confinement, there was a chance his work release program would not be an option anymore. He hung himself in his cell one evening.

Emily managed to navigate the services and every challenge that went alongside losing a young sibling who is a father, compounded with a global pandemic, a correctional facility, and many out of town relatives.

“I’ve been good, but I sure miss that booger.” She said she remembers a moment during winter when she stepped outside and took a deep breath of fresh, crisp air. She realized that Patrick had not been outside in months prior to his death. Because of the COVID precautions the facility was taking, their main priority was to keep everyone isolated to lessen the risk of spreading COVID throughout the facility. 

Emily is pressing forward, continuing to work full time. She is painting quite a bit, enjoying time with her sweetheart son, and she recently bought a fixer-upper ’88 Ram—a salute to Patrick’s birth year. 

She remains positive and is looking forward to being on the other side of this pandemic!

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