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#ScienceWillWin

We asked three people about how vaccines have impacted their lives. Here’s what they said.

We asked three people about how vaccines have impacted their lives. Here’s what they said.
Images courtesy of John Scully, Walden University, Ingrid Scully
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Since March of 2020, over 29 million Americans have been diagnosed with COVID-19, according to the CDC. Over 540,000 have died in the United States as this unprecedented pandemic has swept the globe. And yet, by the end of 2020, it looked like science was winning: vaccines had been developed.

In celebration of the power of science we spoke to three people: an individual, a medical provider, and a vaccine scientist about how vaccines have impacted them throughout their lives. Here are their answers:

John Scully, 79, resident of Florida

Photo courtesy of John Scully

When John Scully was born, America was in the midst of an epidemic: tens of thousands of children in the United States were falling ill with paralytic poliomyelitis — otherwise known as polio, a disease that attacks the central nervous system and often leaves its victims partially or fully paralyzed.

"As kids, we were all afraid of getting polio," he says, "because if you got polio, you could end up in the dreaded iron lung and we were all terrified of those." Iron lungs were respirators that enclosed most of a person's body; people with severe cases often would end up in these respirators as they fought for their lives.

John remembers going to see matinee showings of cowboy movies on Saturdays and, before the movie, shorts would run. "Usually they showed the news," he says, "but I just remember seeing this one clip warning us about polio and it just showed all these kids in iron lungs." If kids survived the iron lung, they'd often come back to school on crutches, in leg braces, or in wheelchairs.

"We all tried to be really careful in the summer — or, as we called it back then, 'polio season,''" John says. This was because every year around Memorial Day, major outbreaks would begin to emerge and they'd spike sometime around August. People weren't really sure how the disease spread at the time, but many believed it traveled through the water. There was no cure — and every child was susceptible to getting sick with it.

"We couldn't swim in hot weather," he remembers, "and the municipal outdoor pool would close down in August."

Then, in 1954 clinical trials began for Dr. Jonas Salk's vaccine against polio and within a year, his vaccine was announced safe. "I got that vaccine at school," John says. Within two years, U.S. polio cases had dropped 85-95 percent — even before a second vaccine was developed by Dr. Albert Sabin in the 1960s. "I remember how much better things got after the vaccines came out. They changed everything," John says.


In March of 2020, the world shut down because the COVID-19 pandemic was raging across the country and the world. Once again, people didn't know much about the virus — and they didn't really know how to keep themselves safe, except to just lock themselves in their homes and avoid other people, so John and his wife hunkered down in their Florida condo, miles away from their children.

"The most challenging aspect of the shutdown was just the feeling of helplessness," he says, especially as the pandemic began to take a toll on his family.

"My son is a pilot and hasn't been able to fly since the lockdowns started," he says. "My daughter and her husband had to work from home while taking care of their 9-month-old baby because their daycare had shut down. Then later, both lost their jobs. [Editorial Note: John Scully is the author's father.]

The hardest thing, though, was being unable to visit his mother, who was 104 and living in Minnesota in an assisted living facility for all of 2020. They talked on the phone every day to help her cope with the isolation but it took a toll on her. By January of 2021, her eyesight had deteriorated, she had a few bad falls, and it was clear she needed extra care. So he and his siblings made the decision to move her into a nursing home.

Within a week, she was diagnosed with COVID-19 and she died on January 30, 2021 after a 10-day battle with the virus. "I was angry when my mother got COVID," he says, "because it felt like massive incompetence. Over 100 residents and staff got COVID in the facility where she died."

It hurt too that this loss came around the same time as hope seemed to be in sight: Vaccines had arrived and he and his wife were eligible. They got their shots at a drive-thru site. He celebrated by seeing his grandson — who was now 21 months old — for the first time since December of 2019. "We got to be there for his first swimming lesson in our pool," he says.

For John, his experiences living through both the polio epidemic and COVID-19 pandemic in his lifetime have driven home the importance of vaccines for public health. "I am much less worried than I was in 2020, and I am becoming more optimistic as the success of the vaccine effort is being realized, but I am still concerned about how many will resist getting the vaccination," John says. "And I'm worried about the viruses out there that we don't know about."

"But I'm confident science can find a way," he adds. "I'm hopeful for the future."


Dr. Alvin Cantero, nurse practitioner and CEO of Alvin Clinica Familiar in Houston, Texas

Photo provided by Walden University

Dr. Alvin Cantero has always wanted to help others. He had been a physician in his native Cuba and, after immigrating to the United States in 2009, he decided to get his degree in nursing practice to provide for his family back home. He also wanted to help underserved communities, so while working towards his master's degree in nursing science and doctoral degree in nursing practice at Walden University, he opened a clinic in a Hispanic and African neighborhood of Houston, Texas.

"The aim was to provide quality care to underserved people, like the homeless, veterans, immigrants, refugees, and all the people who don't have enough resources to find other care," he says.

When the pandemic hit Houston, a number of clinics shut down. But he refused to shut the doors of his clinic. He knew his patients didn't have anywhere else to go.

"A lot of my patients got very scared. They had nowhere to go and they started getting infected after believing that the pandemic was just like the typical flu or a cold," he says. "Then, when people started dying, they got even more scared."

"My patients increased from 10 to 15 patients a day to 50 to 60 a day," he continues.

"I offer my clinic as a shelter for those patients," he says. And in the process, he says, he fulfills an important role when he gains their trust: he helps educate them about the importance of preventative care while combating misinformation about science, healthcare, and the role of vaccines in keeping people safe.

He first encountered this kind of misinformation when he was working on his doctoral thesis on Human Papillomavirus (HPV) vaccines at Walden University. HPV is the most common sexually transmitted infection in the United States, which can lead to six types of cancers later in life. He encountered a number of parents that were hesitant to administer the vaccine to their children. "They were afraid it would induce early sexual relationships," he says, "or have negative psychological effects."

This experience with vaccine hesitancy, he says, was invaluable in helping shape how he would later approach educational efforts about preventative care with his patients at his clinic — especially after the rollout of the COVID-19 vaccines.

"I have some patients that told me they don't want the [COVID-19] vaccination because they heard things that aren't right," he says. "They believed a lot of conspiracy theories."

So he does what he can to educate them — which begins by telling them why he got vaccinated, himself. "I tell them, I have to protect you, I have to protect my family, I have to protect my community, so I got the vaccine" he explains. "I show them my vaccination card and then I explain about the benefits [and risks] of vaccination and why the conspiracy theories are not true."

"You cannot be pushy," he continues. "You have to be patient. You have to do it through family intervention and you also have to do it through the community." That's why, Alvin says, he regularly goes to the YMCA and local churches to speak about the importance of vaccines.

"Vaccinations are a very important part of preventative care nationwide and we still have a long way to go in educating the population and discontinuing the spread of misleading information that has no scientific basis," he says. That's why it's important to "work closely with community leaders who can help us change negative perceptions of vaccines within underserved communities. This can prevent further outbreaks of preventable diseases, such as measles."

So far, Alvin is optimistic that the future of medicine will see less fear around vaccines. "More patients and families are coming into my practice seeking help and guidance to register for their COVID-19 vaccinations," he says, "and they're also inquiring about continuing regular immunization schedules for their children and teenagers."

"I'm very optimistic," he continues, when asked whether he thinks these educational efforts will pay off post-pandemic. "There will be a huge positive change in primary care moving forward."


Ingrid Scully, Pfizer Scientist specializing in immunology

Photo courtesy of Ingrid Scully

Pfizer scientist Ingrid Scully (no relation to John Scully) has never doubted the importance of vaccines.

"To paraphrase a great scientist in the field of vaccines, after the provision of safe drinking water, vaccines have had the greatest impact on human health," she says.

In fact, this is part of why Ingrid went to work in vaccine research and development after her postdoctoral fellowship.

"I have always loved the natural world and we watched a lot of PBS at home," she says. "My grandparents bought me National Geographic books, and I would memorize facts about different animals." Later in life, educators helped foster her love for science, including one who introduced her to immunology, the study of the immune system.

"What I loved most about immunology is that everything is connected," she says.

Ingrid has been working at Pfizer for 16 years now. "I lead teams that develop tests to see if the vaccines we are developing 'work,' — whether the vaccines cause the body to make an immune response that fights the germ, or pathogen," she says. "We are trying to understand what immune response patterns correlate with protection against a given pathogen."

"The ultimate goal is to be able to predict whether a vaccine will be protective early on in development, and to be able to tailor the immune response to a pathogen and to a certain population," she continues. "One exciting new application is the development of vaccines for pregnant women, to protect their newborn babies from diseases, like respiratory syncytial virus, which makes it hard to breathe, and group B streptococcus, which causes sepsis in newborns."

In addition, she says, "I'm very excited about our ability to harness mRNA technology for vaccines. This is a very flexible platform that has the potential to revolutionize vaccines."

For Ingrid, the most exciting moment in her career has been working on the COVID-19 vaccine — and being a part of a critical rollout. "It's humbling, exhilarating, exhausting. Maybe not in that order," she says.

"We've seen this past year what a profound impact infectious disease can have on everyday lives, how much energy is required to stay safe," she continues. "We have not seen so clearly the impact of what we do as we have in the past year. It drives us scientists on."

That's why she's confident that science will win — and make the world better by improving human health.

"I hope that the silver lining of the pandemic is that more young people, from all backgrounds, will choose to become scientists," Ingrid says. "The best thing in the world was when my 6-year-old daughter told me, 'Mama, I'm so proud of you. You're helping beat the virus.'"

That gives her hope.

"When we put our minds to it, we are empowered through science to find ways to address healthcare problems," she says. "There are thousands of dedicated scientists working on vaccines. We do this job because we want to make the world a better place. To help protect babies and grandparents around the world. To unlock human potential by reducing disease."

Duran Duran lead singer Simon LeBon poses with a young fan

Imagine this: you're a fourth grade language arts teacher in Dallas, and like many Gen X-ers, your obsession with Duran Duran never waned. So much so that you still have dolls of each member of the band in the classroom and, according to Austin Wood's article for the Lake Highlands Advocate, even an old telephone in case (lead singer) "Simon LeBon calls."

This describes Miriam Osborne, a fourth grade teacher at White Rock Elementary in the Lake Highlands district of Dallas, Texas. Wood shares in "White Rock E.S. student, inspired by teacher, meets Simon LeBon" that one of Osborne's students, 10-year-old Ava Meyers, was getting an early pickup for Christmas break, as her family was heading to the U.K. for a holiday wedding. As they were saying their goodbyes in the hallway, Osborne kiddingly said to Meyers, "Find Duran Duran."

gif of Duran Duran performingDuran Duran 80S GIFGiphy


Cut to: Ava and her family, including her mom Zahara, fly across the pond to find themselves in the Putney neighborhood of London. After a day of sightseeing, Zahara shares, "I was just Googling things to do in Putney, and the first thing that popped up was 'Simon Le Bon lives in Putney from Duran Duran.'”

Zahara did a little sleuthing and found Simon's house, thinking perhaps a Christmas stroll by the home would be exciting. But, according to the article, Ava felt they could do better. She and "an 83-year-old relative named Nick, who apparently has courage in droves, went to the door and tried a knock. Zahara was initially hesitant but assumed Le Bon would be away on vacation, so she figured it was harmless. Le Bon’s son-in-law answered, his wife came to the door next, and following a few moments of getting pitched the idea by Nick, agreed to get her husband 'because it was Christmas.'"

And just like that, Simon LeBon appeared in the doorway. He warmly greeted Ava and her family and even took pictures. "It was just crazy," Ava exclaimed.

But possibly more excited was Miriam Osborne, back in the States. She proudly shared the photo (which had been texted to her) with many of her friends and even encouraged Ava to recount the story to her classmates when they returned from the break. Wood shares, "Osborne’s connection to the band goes back to her childhood in El Paso in the ’80s. As the daughter of a Syrian immigrant, she says she had trouble fitting in and finding an identity. Some days, she and her brothers would travel across town to get records from a British record store."

Miriam explains she used her babysitting money to buy her first Duran Duran record. "And so I had been a fan, literally, for 43 years—my entire lifetime."

gif of Simon LeBonDuran Duran GIFGiphy

Osborne's love of Duran Duran, and many '80s bands in general, nostalgically connects her to a throughline for her life that she tries to impart onto the students as well. "Music is a connector, and it connected me to a world that I didn’t always fit in as a child. It helped me find people who I still love to this day, and it’s a big part of this classroom with me and the students I teach, because everybody has a story, and there’s something really incredible about hearing something and it taking you to a happy moment."

As for Ava? She's now taking guitar lessons. And perhaps one day, she can become so famous and inspirational, a teacher sends a student off to find her on a Christmas vacation in the future.

Motherhood

Mom points out the unspoken, 'unfair' part of having kids who travel for sports

Parents whose children participate in elite travel ball leagues can spend up to $12,000 annually on fees, equipment, hotel rooms and gas.

Casey Kelley shares her thoughts on kids in travel sports.

Parents whose children participate in elite travel ball leagues can spend up to $12,000 annually on fees, equipment, hotel rooms and gas. One mother, Casey Kelley, from Alabama, has spoken out, saying that if parents spend all of that money and time, their children should get to play in games. Kelley's daughter plays on a club volleyball team.

According to the latest Aspen Institute survey, the average American family spends $883 per year for a single child to play one primary sport. Project Play also points out that the cost of playing various youth sports can fluctuate great. For example, their 2022 report reveals that it costs an average $1,188 per year for a child to play soccer and $714 for baseball. As Jersey Watch writes, those numbers have come down a bit since the pandemic but are still cost prohibitive for many American families trying to make ends meet. What's even more frustrating is that those high prices don't even guarantee participation in games for children. A family can literally spend thousands of dollars all for the experience of having their child sit on a bench watching their peers actually get to participate.

The topic was inspired by a conversation she had with other volleyball parents who agreed that every kid should get a decent amount of playing time. “I’ll tell you what I think. I think, if you’re paying to be there, so it's not like high school sports, I think everyone should have the opportunity to play because this is a developmental league ... and they’re there to develop and to learn,” she explained in a TikTok video.

“Especially if these parents are paying thousands of dollars for them to be in the league and then traveling, spending money on hotels for their kid to sit there and maybe play a minute or two the whole weekend. I think it’s unfair,” she continued.



@caseyjkelley

What do you think? #travelball #clubsport #athlete #kids #mom #question


It's reasonable for Kelley to believe that spending a lot of money and traveling all over the map only to watch your kid play for a few minutes feels pointless. However, a lot of parents disagreed with her in the comments.

"You pay for practice. Playing time is earned," Nathan Sullins wrote.

"Absolutely not. If you want fair playing time you play rec ball. Travel ball playing time is performance based," another user wrote.

travel ball, volleyball, youth sports, travelball, parenting, finance, sportsYoung girls line up to play volleyballImage via Canva

But these parents haven’t changed Kelley’s mind.

“I’m not opposed to kids earning their spot or the best kids playing more, but I feel that every kid who makes the team should at least have some playing time,” she told Upworthy. “I know it’s not a popular opinion, but it’s how I currently see it.”

Kelley further explained the story in a follow-up video.



@caseyjkelley

Clarification post and the last one on this topic #travelball #athlete #travelballparents #clubsport #parenting


What do you think?

This article originally appeared last

Race & Ethnicity

Woman's rare antique turned away from 'Antique Roadshow' for heart-wrenching reason

"I just love you for bringing it in and thank you so much for making me so sad."

Woman's antique turned away from 'Antique Roadshow'

People come by things in all sorts of ways. Sometimes you find something while at a garage sale and sometimes it's because a family member passed away and it was left to them. After coming into possession of the item, the owner may be tempted to see how much it's worth so it can be documented for insurance purposes or sold.

On a recent episode of BBC One's Antique Roadshow, a woman brought an ivory bracelet to be appraised. Interestingly enough, the expert didn't meet this rare find with excitement, but appeared somber. The antique expert, Ronnie Archer-Morgan carefully explains the purpose of the bracelet in what appears to be a tense emotional exchange.

There would be no appraisal of this antique ivory bracelet adorned with beautiful script around the circumference. Archer-Morgan gives a brief disclaimer that he and the Antique Roadshow disapprove of the trade of ivory, though that was not his reason for refusing the ivory bangle.

"This ivory bangle here is not about trading in ivory, it’s about trading in human life, and it’s probably one of the most difficult things that I’ve ever had to talk about. But talk about it we must," Archer-Morgan says.

Ronnie Archer-Morgan, Antiques Roadshow, BBC, antiques, ivoryRonnie Archer-Morgan on an episode of the BBC's Antiques RoadshowImage via Antqiues Roadshow


Turns out the woman had no idea what she had in her possession as she purchased it from an estate sale over 30 years before. One of the elderly residents she cared for passed away and the woman found the ivory bracelet among the things being sold. Finding the bangle particularly intriguing with the fancy inscription around it, she decided to purchase the unique piece of jewelry.

After explaining that his great-grandmother was once enslaved in Nova Scotia, Canada before being returned to Sierra Leone, Archer-Morgan concluded he could not price the item.

Antiques Roadshow, BBC, Ronnie Archer MorganRonnie Archer-Morgan holds the ivory bracelet he refused to valueImage via Antiques Roadshow/BBC

"I just don’t want to value it. I do not want to put a price on something that signifies such an awful business. But the value is in the lessons that this can tell people," he tells the woman.

In the end the woman leaves without knowing the monetary value of the item but with a wealth of knowledge she didn't have before visiting. Now she can continue to share the significance of the antique with others. Watch the full explanation below:


- YouTubewww.youtube.com

This article originally appeared last year.

Modern Families

The things we carry

The most poignant moments are honoring those who carried and still carry us.

Image courtesy Tara Roth

Tara Roth with her family

Editor's Note: This essay originally appeared on LinkedIn, you can read it here. It was republished here with permission from Tara Roth.

Today is the two-month anniversary of our evacuation from the Palisades Fire. Although we still don't know when we can return, we have learned - and are grateful for - so much.

It’s funny what the mind latches onto when under duress. One of my first thoughts amidst the surreal encroaching flames, circling smoke, debris and dust in the choking orange air, I noticed what people carried. What they brought with them as they rolled their suitcases down to Pacific Coast Highway, what was strapped to their backs, what they carried in their hands—no one really knowing what they were leaving behind or what, if anything, they may return to. And I thought of Tim O’Brien’s powerful piece about the Vietnam War, The Things They Carried, and reflected on what his wisdom could, with hindsight, eventually teach us. I’ve aggregated his words (with poetic license) below:

“For the most part they carried themselves with poise, a kind of dignity. They shared the weight of memory….the world would take on the old logic—absolute silence, then the wind, then sunlight, then voices… despite the unknowns, they made their legs move. They endured. They took up what others could no longer bear. Often they carried each other.”

Perhaps primed by the memory of this piece, my senses heightened by the chaos around me and the COVID that wracked my body, I observed what we carried. While the LA fires do not compare to the ravages of war, they evoked the same primal instincts. We were under siege. We needed to survive. The fires were redefining what we knew as familiar, as home—snatching safety and seizing the comfort of our quotidian lives that we took for granted—that so many of us long for again.

We carry the grief and loss and devastation and desolation of communities. We carry the memories constructed lovingly into homes and structures that now stand only in our mind’s eye—the library where families got their children's first library card, the beauty salon started by a young woman who immigrated from Russia, now no longer a young woman, and passed down to her daughter. Whole communities and identities carved and scrimped for, then lost, with debris and dust that settles in the wind, smattered by the rains—schools, restaurants, churches, businesses, the bench of a first kiss, the home where the couple brought their newborn from the hospital for the first time.

And even when houses stand, like mine, there’s something else we carry—after the initial elation of the news that our homes remain, a sort of survivor’s guilt sets in realizing how much we have when others have lost everything. We have homes to return to yet never could have imagined how it feels to drive past scarred earth and scorched chimneys, the thundering absence of a neighborhood, the empty lots of ashes of memories—a chronic reminder of all that was lost and the toll of our good luck. We carry this too.

And we, innocent children of the developed world, didn’t consider that even if a structure is standing, that we need power lines, sanitation, safe running water, and neighbors to look out for each other. That we will need countless months of waste removal and remediation. That we will continue to don masks and gloves to enter these standing, yet uninhabitable, structures.

The most poignant moments are honoring those who carried and still carry us. The first responders, the countless volunteers, those who prepared hot meals and donated clothes and comforts. Those who opened their homes so generously to my and myriad other families. The hundreds of people who reached out—from the oldest of friends to people I haven't talked to in decades to those with whom I shared maybe just a professional moment in the last few months. The care and love and generosity and grace, extended by so many.

When I reflect on this time, still living displaced in the homes of various warm-hearted friends, I think about the universality of human suffering and joy, wretchedness and wonder. And how, at our best, we come together in crisis. We know that we are a part of something greater, and we act without hesitation to lend a hand to carry each other. We carry hope about the resilience we have already witnessed as communities come together and pledge to reimagine and rebuild. And, this is what I want us to carry forward.


Tara Roth is the president of the Goldhirsh Foundation

Community

People are split over noise complaint note woman received after living in apartment for 2 days

Upstairs and downstairs neighbors are at war, but here's who they should really be mad at.

Canva Photos

Apartment living isn't easy...

People who live in apartments are often at war with their neighbors, and the weapon of choice is nasty handwritten notes. Conflicts between upstairs and downstairs neighbors are a tale as old as time. But now the evidence is being logged on the Internet for all to see—and weigh in on.

Everyone has an opinion on passive-aggressive noise complaints from neighbors, but the reality is that the people living in these situations are truly at a loss for how to make things better. One neighbor will swear up and down they're not making any noise, while the person that lives under them complains about the walls shaking and picture frames falling off of their nails. It's an impasse. Who's in the right here?

A woman and her husband recently got a fairly polite but aggressive note about their behavior, almost immediately after moving into their apartment.

gif of a woman shushing a man while he drivesPolitely asking for silence is a lost art. Giphy

She posted it in the subreddit r/Apartmentliving asking for advice. The note reads, in scratchy handwriting:

"Welcome new neighbors, me and my wife live below you and would like to ask if you would please try and walk a little softer, these apartments were built extremely fast and they cut corners especially with the sound proofing. We can hear which room your in, we could probably count your steps. It just drones and shakes our walls and floors and we end up with bad headaches. I would really appreciate it, and my wife too."

The OP had lived in the apartment for a grand total of two days before receiving the note. And she's not the only one. Social media is bursting with similar notes, stories, and screenshots of baffling text exchanges.

See the full post below:

Users were surprisingly divided on the note. Some who knew the pain and frustration of being a downstairs neighbor found it reasonable and polite. Others found it absolutely unhinged and ridiculous.

At face value, asking a person to "walk a little softer" in their own home sounds unreasonable, right? Claiming that only two days of the OP simply existing in her home is causing bad headaches is a little over dramatic, as well.

But people who have lived as downstairs neighbors before get it. Every little noise gets amplified and it really does sound like your neighbors are stomping around, jumping up and down, dragging chains along the floor, and doing all kinds of disruptive things.

The response was mixed. Some urged OP and her husband to be more mindful of the way they move around when they're home:

"I grew up in apartments and naturally walk lightly now when at home, but my house friends walk so heavy. I can notice the difference significantly when we’re both at my place so it’s not a bad idea to take notice if you are just a naturally heavy walker and also no shoes inside. It doesn’t sound too mean but let’s hope just with being a bit more aware then they don’t become annoyingggggg."

"I live in a downstairs unit and have 3 men living above me. The soundproofing is really decent, and I can barely hear 2 of them walking around, they're so quiet. They're big dudes, too. The last guy walks like he weighs 800lbs and has ski boots on, it's insane. I've never heard anyone walk so loudly before, it drives me crazy. I dread him coming home from work every day because I have to listen to him stomp back and forth and shake the walls/ceiling. Some people absolutely don't know how to walk gently."

"I think people just don’t realize that it’s possible to walk normally without making heavy steps."

Other apartment-dwellers were more blunt; opining that the note was way out of line, especially after such a short time:

"Obviously, try to be mindful of how hard you're walking, but beyond that, there's nothing you really can do. You've gotta live your life, and you're paying to do so in that space, so as long as you aren't doing unreasonable things at unreasonable hours, then it's kinda their problem and not yours. That might sound callous, but I mean, if they expect to never have to hear other people, then they may need to reconsider living in an apartment."

"I’d ignore it. Don’t engage. You can walk around, watch tv, take a shower and close cabinets any time of the day or night as long as you’re not screaming, slamming, etc. then there’s nothing they can do.."

"Have you tried learning how to float?"

"If you're counting someone's steps you literally need to find a hobby. My parents still live in an apartment and my Mom does this kind of stuff. Every neighbor bothers her with the least amount of noise. If you have this issue, maybe consider housing that isn't attached to a neighbor?"

In the end, a few people had advice for the couple, or any upstairs neighbor: Put down some extra rugs and make sure you're wearing slippers when walking around the house. That's a simple gesture almost anyone can do for their neighbor's comfort. And, if you can, step lightly. Beyond that, there's not much else you can do.

Buried in the note, however, is the true culprit: Management!

gif of toddler making a faceThere's another culprit here.Giphy

The problem with these conflicts is that neither the upstairs or downstairs neighbor is really wrong. The upstairs neighbor can be doing absolutely nothing of note and it can still be deafeningly loud for the lower tenant. That's a sign of a crappy building that, as the note writer admits, points to corners that have been cut during construction

Some estimates say that apartments with better soundproofing are worth up to 20% more than noisier units. And the time spent dealing with constant complains and quarrels between neighbors is surely costly in its own way. Instead of writing nasty notes, neighbors should put pressure on management to address soundproofing issues—it's for the landlord's own good! They can't exactly remodel the entire building in most cases, but they should be willing to consider adding thick carpet pads, purchasing heavy curtains and drapes, or lining the air ducts to limit sound traveling between units.

Some have argued that landlords and management companies are inherently unethical, or at the very least, incentivized to be lazy and address problems in the cheapest way possible. If you want your apartment experience to get better, send these passive aggressive notes to them instead of your well-meaning neighbors.