Pre-pandemic, South Asians often relied on huge support systems of family and friends to look after each other. And in times of grief, they would open their homes to mourn together through customs and prayer.
For Saurav Dutt, to have the honor of Hindu death rituals taken away by the pandemic felt like he was "cheating the person who has passed away of the ritual that they deserved."
Aman Sehdev said that grieving the loss of his Nana (maternal grandfather) away from his extended family left him "soul searching" to better understand his cultural upbringing – something that he "consistently struggles with."
Some South Asians have felt that Western culture can undermine how they grieve.
When Apoorva Jadhav lost her uncle, and described him as a "second father," her workplace said she could only take time off for the loss of an immediate family member.
During such a difficult time, what Komal valued was seeing so many ethnic minorities come together for the virtual vigils honoring the death of her Nani, and the other victims of the Indianapolis shooting.
Dr. Devika Srivastava, a psychologist focused on the study of South Asian Americans, predicts that the anxiety around infecting other family members will persist post-pandemic, changing how South Asian communities come together.
Even if these community spaces will remain virtual, Apoorva said she has seen some "positive offshoots" from it – like her scattered family making time to connect over Zoom.
The conventional wisdom blames social media for the widening divide as the timing lines up. But scientifically, it's been surprisingly hard to make the charges stick, Adam Rogers (@jetjocko) writes. ⬇️
Maybe the problem isn't that social media has driven us all into like-minded bubbles. Maybe it's that social media has obliterated the bubbles we've all lived in for centuries, Rogers says.
According to a model developed by Petter Törnberg, a computer scientist at @UvA_Amsterdam, social media twists our psyches and clumps us into warring tribes for two simple reasons.
We sort ourselves into two camps with sharply drawn lines, Roger writes.
Rebecca Hessel Cohen's tunnel vision — a world of parties and parasols, confetti and Champagne — is what turned LoveShackFancy into the success it is today.
But as it grew to a bona fide fashion empire, its founder’s blind spots turned glaring. 👇
LoveShackFancy has never needed to be anything other than exactly what it is: pretty, pink clothes for skinny, rich girls who want to have fun, no matter what's happening in the world around them. Which is, of course, a statement in itself.
"I was struck by the imagination and creativity of that," said the 60-year-old, who asked to be referred to as "Your Excellency" or "President Baugh," during a phone interview with @thisisinsider.
🗝 One of the most powerful legislators in modern US history acknowledged to @leonardkl that President Ronald Reagan, while conducting a meeting at the White House, once seemingly forgot who he was. 🧠
What's the hardest college in America to get into?
You're probably thinking it's @Harvard, which admitted just 3% of applicants this year, but you're wrong. It’s @Tulane, whose official acceptance rate is 0.7%.
The only way Tulane can afford to reject 99% of its applicants in the regular round is if it's confident it has already locked down most of its class through early decision.