10 Lessons “The Walking Dead” Offers To Help Us Through This Pandemic

By Teri Yuan, Messy Details Contributor

At this point, all fifty states local governments have declared some sort of lockdown to control the spread and manage the healthcare response to the COVID-19 crisis. For many states, easing of stay-at-home restrictions and the gradual re-opening of businesses has punctuated differences in how people are navigating the tension between returning to some semblance of our previous lives and the need to prioritize public health and safety.

During my time sheltering-in-place at home in NYC, I’ve struggled with managing my intake of information from the daily briefings from Governor Cuomo, to my regular diet of voraciously consuming all things gender-related, as part of my work in advocacy. Much to my surprise, one thing that has helped me stay centered and connected is my discovery of the AMC post-apocalyptic horor series, The Walking Dead.

I’ve put together a top ten list of lessons I’ve drawn from the series which, I believe, offers us delightful nuggets of wisdom about how we might define community, power-sharing, and survival. If we heed but just a few of these suggestions, perhaps we can be better prepared to transition to and through a post COVID-19 world. (Spoiler Warning: I reference dialogue and events up to the current season).

Lesson #1: Don’t underestimate the power of ignorance for harm

If you’re someone who values science and reason and are informed by evidence-based data, your response to this administration’s unprecedented malfeasance will likely be a mix of outrage, disgust, and deep concern. You will likely face daily distress by the lack of a coordinated federal response, strategy, and plan to help mitigate the virus in the near, medium, and long-term. You will likely be troubled by the uneven response by state leaders in acknowledging the severity and the scope of the problem.

But, perhaps, the most frightful sign of potential harm is the growing clamor of anti-lockdown protestors, such as those armed and masked (mostly) white men, in Michigan, whose use of intimation, fear, and the threat of violence to assert their right to “liberty” in obtaining haircuts and socializing is deemed more important than our collective safety and health. (In fact, this binary choice is a “false dilemna” logical fallacy).

In Season 7, Episode 5, Sasha and Maggie strategize about what to do with Hilltop’s inept and seemingly harmless leader, Gregory. Sasha asks Maggie “What can Gregory do?” to which Maggie responds:

“He’s in charge. He’s an idiot. They’re more dangerous.”

Similarly, the collective delusion, inability to engage in critical and independent thinking and reason, and stubborn disregard for guidance from authority figures in the medical and scientific communities by a large portion of our society, remains our greatest long-term threat. It’s bad enough they keep us from using what remains of our democratic institutions to remove from office and hold accountable those in positions of leadership who continue to refuse to use their authority for good, instead of for personal gain. It’s worse when they actively launch disinformation tactics to generate discord and confusion.

Lesson #2: There are worse things than physical violence

For far too long, our cultural attitudes and understanding of violence as “bad” as a moral indicator of harm has hampered our ability to protect victims and other members of society from harm. Evan Stark’s definition of “coercive control” as a gendered liberty crime offers a paradigm for understanding how, under patriarchy, we allow men to exert control over women (and other men) a set of behaviors that reinforces their privilege.

These set of tactics mirror those described by Albert Biderman in his “chart of coercion” which essentially render us hostage to another — emotionally, psychologically, and physically. Which is why so many survivors like myself have wistfully pondered whether having more visible bruises could have garnered more support for us when so much of the impact of abuse is not visible.

In Season 7, Episode 7, Negan converses with one of the women in his harem. He asks this wife, Sherry, about whether another wife has been cheating on him. To make his point that he expects fidelity from them because he follows a code of conduct, he queries Sherry, “Did I ever hit one of you?” In response, Sherry says:

“No, but I know you. There’s worse.”

That’s right. Because Sherry recognizes that living life under Negan’s roof and under his thumb is a life where one is living, but not alive.

Lesson #3: Coercive Control is like living life as a zombie

In fact, life as part of a harem under Negan’s “Saviors” community is the epitome of being coercively controlled. When you are not able to love whom you want, to move about as you desire, and to make decisions that are free from threat of violence and oppression, it can feel like you are moving through life as a zombie — unable to see, unable to act, and shutdown (e.g., “woke” — perhaps infected and trauma-bonded with the oppressor). When several members of Negan’s harem approach Eugene to make poison pills, the explanation they give is that one of the wives, Amber, wants to use them to commit suicide and escape a life of servitude and torture under Negan. One of them justifies their plan with the following elaboration:

“Being [with Negan] isn’t better than being dead. It’s worse.”

By now, the past nine weeks, if not three plus years under this administration, should feel just as dire to many of us. Our efforts to hold members of this administration accountable — through our Congressional oversight committees, through the impeachment process, and through our endless attempts to uphold our democratic institutions and structures — have put anyone with a conscious and critical-thinking skills into a collective slumber. Daily life can seem like we are amongst the walking dead because the incessant chipping away takes a toll that depletes our energy, our spirits, and our will to act.

Lesson #4: Survival requires first that we see the world as it is, not just as we want it to be

When returning home, Jessie Anderson, a domestic violence victim and survivor, finds a zombie occupying her home. She take out her knife to “kill it” a first for her, while her neighbors look on in shock. Afterwards, she tells them, (Season 6, Episode 5):

“I used to not wanna see the way things are. It’s not that I couldn’t. It’s that I didn’t want to. But this is what life looks like now. We have to see it. We have to fight it. If we don’t fight, we die.”

Similarly, for those of us who have the privilege of jobs, homes, and our sanity to wake up to every morning, looking at the world as it is — a society that values corporate profit and greed over human thriving, a culture that stigmatizes social safety nets such as unemployment insurance and health care as “socialist,” and a people who equate staying-at-home to protect our healthcare workers and systems with “oppression.”

Domestic violence survivors know that we must name our experience in order to tackle it head on if we want to create a path out of abuse. We are all abuse victims now, having experienced the coercive control of this administration for that past three and half years. Let’s start applying the knowledge that survivors like myself have been trying to share for so long — wake up and see or we will have no chance of surivival.

Lesson #5: Survival is winning when your opponent is trying to destroy you

For the past three and half years, our country has been at war with itself. A third of the country has been grappling with the horror of the daily assaults to our civil liberties and planet, a third of the country has dug in even more into their bigotry and blind devotion to our Tweet-obsessed Russian puppet, and a third of the country just doesn’t care. When you’re in a David and Goliath battle between good and evil as we have been, waking up to live another day is success.

In Season 8, Episode 13, Tobin shares with Carol., his desire to see a conclusion to their fight against the Saviors in a Walker-dominated world. “The end of the fight is — what we’re fighting for,” he postulates. Carol, however, rebukes:

“Winning just means we get tomorrow.”

So let’s give ourselves a break. We are winning when we wake up another day to face the next. But let’s also be smart about the choices we make.

Lesson #6: Focus on systemic change for collective good and benefit

Rick’s initial reaction to his son Carl’s death is to go after the individual perpetrators. Saddiq pleads with Rick to not focus on retaliation for his son, but to help lead people to safety and begin to realize Carl’s dying wish for a world where old nemeses can co-exist in peace. (Season 8, Episode 23).

Do not send us astray after them (those who died).

It may be instinctive to want to right a wrong with acts of revenge or retaliation, but when the threat of harm cannot be contained to just one person, but to systems that support harm, corruption, and abuse of power, we must prioritize the bigger picture. Yes, mourn individual losses; then, prioritize building collective power.

Many communities across the globe have adopted “clapping” for essential workers every night at the same time. While we have yet to properly honor the lives of those who have died from the virus, we should use our collective suffering and, hopefully, (re)-awakening, to transform larger systems in order to prevent these calamities from recurring.

The old norms dictated by capitalism and neo-liberalism need to be replaced with a feminist business model of values and practices that center human dignity, well-being, and thriving, along with organizational growth and profit. It is possible to do both and the past several months’ of individual and economic pain should motivate all business leaders and citizens to re-examine how they can use this time to dismantle and rebuild. What kind of values should guide their process and how can they incorporate feminist values into their businesses and organizational models?

Lesson #7: Transformation can emerge from pain and suffering

Too often, media representations of domestic violence, its victims, and its impact are shallow and cliched at best, and victim-blaming and self-perpetuating at worst. Because I identified with Carol as a domestic violence survivor, I grew to not only like her, but also to cherish her character’s evolution from victim to warrior queen. Terms of Endearment doesn’t hold a candle to the loss and grief the showrunner’s put Carol through, just in the show’s first few seasons alone. Carol reminds us in every episode that transformation is a choice you make and remake each time tragedy befalls us. Reflecting on these choices, Carol remarks to Ezekiel (Season 8, Episode 14):

“I had a daughter. After I lost her, I…I was nothing. But the people I was with…being with them…I found myself. Some version of myself, a better self. Still, it always feels like it could, just be swept away again. But that doesn’t mean it will, and…and it doesn’t mean that I couldn’t find myself again if it does.”

Lesson #8: Mercy can be construed as lack of accountability

Partly to honor his son Carl’s wish for peace and reconciliation, and partly to prove to himself that he was different from his nemesis, Rick decides at the end of Season 8 to spare Negan’s life. This unilateral decision angered Maggie who was robbed of her chance to avenge her husband Glenn’s death, causing a lasting rift amongst the members of the original group. Daryl challenges Rick’s decision to keep Negan locked up (Season 9, Episode 4):

“Man, you got that guy sitting in a cell like a damn symbol to all them assholes who can’t wait to see things go back to the way that they were.”

In response, Rick explains:

“Keeping him alive is how we make sure it won’t.”

But Daryl retorts:

“No. Keeping him alive is givin ‘em hope that it will.”

Rick’s mistake in making his decision lies in equating actions with morality. He wanted to spare Negan’s life to show he was not like Negan. Yet, killing the Governor and the members of Randall’s group were necessary acts for the group to survive — not because their lives were more important than others — but because the preservation of goodness and humanity requires that we hold accountable those who try to destroy it. When leaders rule with cruelty, brutality, and the threat of violence to terrorize and control, mercy can be interpreted as disregard for accountability.

Similarly, as we emerge from the present acceleration phase of the coronavirus and further flatten the curve, it is critical that we do not allow amnesia to replace our fear and anxiety. When abuse of power is left unchecked, it sends a message to society that bad behavior will be tolerated and that future attempts to defy norms of civility and ethics will be ignored. While it is human nature to look away from evil and cruelty — to forget it, to deny it, and to minimize it — inaction can and will result in far greater consequences, including being too far gone to return.

Lesson #9: Judge someone by their actions and not only their words

Too often, we judge someone by what we wish them to do, how we wish them to be, instead of accepting who they show us they are. This explains the unending rhetorical media headlines still questioning why Trump didn’t act sooner to mitigate the virus threat when he was informed months earlier. “He Could Have Seen What Was Coming…” In late March, for instance, Trump said he has “always known” that Covid-19 “is a pandemic” claiming “I always viewed it as very serious,” he said. Does it matter if he could have seen or if he actually did know about it when he did nothing to act on that knowledge?

Michonne passes on this wisdom when she explains to Judith why they are fighting Alpha and the Whisperers. She tells Judith (Season 10, Episode 4):

“When you start negotiating wth a bully, there may be no end to how much they try to take. Some bullies you can live with…others you got to fight…You never take your enemy at their word. You measure them by their actions.”

For all the people complaining that House oversight committees are distracted from the virus and our current public health crisis as they continue to investigate wrongdoing in the administration’s response, conflicts of interest, deployment of PPP funding, and so on, I say: all of these activities are critical to showing the still brainwashed, Trump loyalists and apologists that we need to continue shining a light on his actions. Maybe one day, Trump supporters will see and move out of their proverbial cave. Maybe they won’t. But doing so serves to help those who are in the neutral middle and passive left to move towards allyship and active engagement — in expecting and demanding accountability.

Lesson #10: Hope can rebuild anything destroyed

When there is hope, there is possibility — for change, for transformation, for rebuiding, for growth. Using the perfect metaphor of plants, Nabila shares with Ezekiel that a plot of crops were infected and needed to be burned. She states (Season 7, Episode 13):

“Here’s the beautiful thing, Your Majesty. You can tear it out and cut it down. You can burn it and throw it all away. But if you want, it can all grow back.”

Life as we knew it won’t ever come back when we emerge from this virus with a vaccine or with herd immunity, however many months from today. We will have suffered immeasurable loss — in lives, in jobs, in education, in time lost with loved ones, and in the (permanent) closure of businesses, cultural institutions, and whole industries.

What we will have gained is a new awareness that we can no longer take comfort in maintaining our illusion that our structures and policies were working. Instead, we can and must reject the notion of independence and realize that to live, to survive, to thrive — we need each other. To rebuild, we need others who are awake and alive, who prioritize a life of mutual caring, nurturing, and collective flourishing. So, what are we waiting for? Let’s begin.

This post was originally posted on Medium with permission of Teri Yuan. It can be read here on Medium.