To those who answered the call
by Caroline Meredith
As a global pandemic upends every aspect of life, it is natural to dive into the history books and explore how humans of the past survived and moved beyond their own plagues. One harrowing case is the Plague of Athens, a medical disaster that occurred around 430 BCE and was responsible for the death of approximately 75,000 to 100,000 Athenians, or one-third of the population.[1] What we know about that pandemic today is largely because of Thucydides, a Greek historian who survived the disease and chronicled the major event of his lifetime, a decades long battle between Athens and Sparta, in the eight volumes that make up The Peloponnesian War. The vivid descriptions of the Plague of Athens in these books will seem eerily similar to readers today: unbearable sickness that spread like wildfire, too many bodies to bury, and a neglect for the dead by those afraid of catching the disease themselves. Thucydides was prophetic in recording this Plague, seemingly reaching out to all of us in the 21st century, “I shall give a statement of what it was like, which people can study in case it should ever attack again, to equip themselves with foreknowledge so that they shall not fail to recognize it,” (Grant qtd. in Mark).
Plague in an Ancient City (ca.1962-64) by Michael Sweerts.
Some aspects notably absent from Thucydides’ account of the Plague of Athens are the actions, responses, and achievements of Athenian women. The Greek historian’s retelling of the Peloponnesian War and intervening Athenian plague is a meticulous, and, according to his contemporaries Aristophanes and Philistus, remarkably reliable, history of the ancient white men who fought battles, led sieges, and endured pestilence during the war. Like so many of the primary sources of antiquity, the perspectives or even mention of real women are struck from the historical record. In fact, according to Australian Army Officer Kate Tollenaar, in Thucydides’ The Peloponnesian War, “Only twenty females are mentioned by name in 650 pages. Notably, of these twenty women, seven have done something immoral or illegal.”
The lack of women in Thucydides’ history is representative of the unimportant role they are deemed to play in the larger sphere of war and politics. So often, heroism is characterized in literature and memorialization by violent acts of warfare; therefore the Athenian women of the period, unable to regularly fight in battle, had no opportunities to display “courage.” Women endured rape, slavery, and torture during the Peloponnesian War, and yet their resilience is hardly remembered. As Tollenaar puts it succinctly, “Thucydides defined history as politics and war. As these were male-only enterprises, the intimation is that the only stories during the war worth telling were those of men.”
Plaster cast bust of Thucydides at the Pushkin museum made in early 1900-1910s. Original bust is a Roman copy (c. 100 CE) of an early 4th Century BCE Greek origina
One heroic effort that Athenian women supported but that Thucydides omits was caretaking for those dying rapidly during the Plague of Athens. Even as dead bodies piled the streets and many citizens abandoned the infected in fear of catching the disease, many women continued to care for the sick and prepare the dead for burials. The burdening of this task on women has precedent in history; in his examination of the lack of lesbian representation in queer monuments, Thomas R. Dunn points out women’s long-held responsibility to care for and memorialize men:
Research from across the academy demonstrates that women from all walks of life have long been held responsible for ensuring the memory of the men, values, and beliefs of their cultures. Historically, this gendered-memory imperative reflected the traditional divides between men as public figures and women as domestic figures. Particularly since men’s gender-proscribed positions dictated they could go to war and frequently not return, it was often left to women—mothers, wives, and daughters—to remember the fallen. (Dunn 209)[2]
The time has come for caretakers (particularly those who identify as female) to be remembered for their courageous endurance. It may be too late to personally thank the women of 15th century Athens, but as another plague terrorizes our world, New York City is in need of a memorial that recognizes and celebrates the health care heroes among us.
There is no better place to erect this monument than at NYU Langone’s Kimmel Pavilion, a hospital that treats hundreds of COVID-19 patients daily. I propose that we honor the dedicated nurses of this hospital who are currently working tirelessly, often placing the health of their patients above their own. A recent New York Times article highlighted a team of these nurses, revealing the heartbreaking scenes inside every hospital room and the countless concessions the workers are making to themselves and their families.
The monument will be a projection placed on the blue terracotta facade, an “intricate mosaic of vertical terra cotta units of varying size and color and composed of six carefully selected glazes,” that stands at one of the hospital’s entryways. This way, it will be visible to those entering the hospital, those exiting the hospital, and any pedestrian on the street. Furthermore, it will live in a space of relative calmness amidst the bumbling atmosphere of the hospital, an outdoor oasis for people to sit on a bench and take a break. The monument will read To Those Who Answered The Call, a reference to nurse Steven Cabrera’s statement in the Times that, “We (the nurses) were part of a collective force that overcame something huge. We were the ones that answered the call.” In addition to the team of nurses that are cited in the Times article, the names of nurses to be nominated by the public will be placed under this phrase. The monument will only feature these words in simple black font, allowing for it to be displayed at all times.
Featuring the names of these health care workers rather than their human likeness will bring a sense of order to the chaos that this pandemic has brought. As Kirk Savage explains, “The naming of the dead turned ungraspable statistics into evocations of actual people one knew or could imagine.” While this monument may not be listing the dead—a crucial task once this pandemic concludes—listing the names of nurses will honor their work, recognize their humanity, and ensure that no one ever forgets that when society needed them most, they answered the call.
[1] Mark, Joshua J. “Thucydides on the Plague of Athens: Text & Commentary.” Ancient History Encyclopedia, Ancient History Encyclopedia, 26 Apr. 2020.
[2] Dunn, Thomas R. “Whence the Lesbian in Queer Monumentality? Intersections of Gender and Sexuality in Public Memory.” Southern Communication Journal, vol. 82, no. 4, Sept. 2017, pp. 203–215. EBSCOhost, doi:10.1080/1041794X.2017.1332090.