When Americans voted in the last presidential election, the nation was still deeply isolated. Many children were learning remotely, and office workers were confined to their homes, experiencing the world mainly through screens.

At that time, no one could predict when the pandemic would end or how deeply it would reshape people’s lives.

Four years later, the event is largely considered to be behind us. The presidential candidates barely mention Covid, but as America heads toward another election, the emotional and social impacts of that turbulent period are still unfolding.

Rev. Amy Greene, who served as the director of spiritual care at the Cleveland Clinic during the pandemic, believes much of the anger and division seen today stems from unresolved grief. “Grief is often ignored,” she said. “Anger is easier to express because it gives us a false sense of power, while grief exposes our vulnerability, something America isn’t comfortable with on either side of the political spectrum.”

The pandemic brought massive losses, from the deaths of loved ones to canceled events and economic hardships. Young people, in particular, were robbed of crucial experiences—such as high school and college milestones. Many parents faced the isolating challenge of raising young children without the usual community support.

“Grief is scary,” said Ms. Greene. “People are often more afraid of grief than of anger because anger feels like action, while grief just leaves you exposed. And vulnerability isn’t something America handles well.”

A report from the Pew Research Center shows that trust in institutions—government, science, and business—has declined since 2020. By the end of 2022, a Gallup poll found that the percentage of Americans describing their mental health as “only fair” or “poor” was the highest in two decades.

“We’ve lost our sense of resilience and connection with one another,” said Schroeder Stribling, CEO of Mental Health America. “There’s an epidemic of loneliness, and the pandemic exacerbated it. Isolation makes us sick.”

For many, the pandemic highlighted a shocking level of indifference from both the government and the public. Kylie James, a 20-year-old English major from Las Vegas, felt disillusioned by the lack of adequate government support for those who lost work during the crisis. “I lost a lot of faith in humanity for a while,” they said. “But I realized I can only control myself. I try to educate others, but my mental health and peace come first.”

Anthropologist Shannon Lee Dawdy, who studied the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina, notes that responses to crises are varied, even within families. Some want to rebuild, while others seek to move on entirely. She sees similar patterns emerging in the wake of the pandemic.

For many, the trauma of 2020 lingers. Some Americans, fueled by former President Trump, seem eager to turn back the clock to 2016, before Covid disrupted their lives. But Dawdy believes this yearning is more about wanting to reset to a pre-pandemic world.

For families like Kevin Gemeroy’s, the pandemic reshaped their lives. In 2020, Gemeroy, 43, and his family relocated from Seattle to Scottsdale, Arizona, when schools closed. The family, seeking better educational options for their children, found the climate more conducive to their needs. This decision was heavily influenced by Arizona’s more open approach to schools during the pandemic.

“I’m politically independent, but I plan to vote for Trump,” said Gemeroy. “The pandemic’s impact on schools made me lose trust in Democratic leadership.”

For young voters, the pandemic marked a pivotal moment, taking away key life milestones like prom and graduation. For some, it ignited a desire to engage politically. Ryan Klein, now studying political science at Penn State, became involved in politics after witnessing the struggles of small businesses like his mother’s, which shut down due to the pandemic.

“The pandemic showed me that we couldn’t rely on others to act responsibly,” said Alex Grupp, a software salesman from Milwaukee. His faith in humanity was shaken when basic supplies like toilet paper became scarce. Grupp, a long-time Republican voter, was disillusioned by Trump’s dismissive attitude toward science and now leans left.

However, others like California poet laureate Lee Herrick see a silver lining. While acknowledging the challenges and losses, Herrick notes a renewed sense of joy as people reconnect in person. “The pandemic magnified the present for me,” he said. “After everything we’ve been through, the simple act of being with loved ones feels deeply joyful.”

Despite the ongoing effects of the pandemic, some find hope in the resilience of their communities, and many continue to rebuild, re-engage, and embrace the relationships that were strained but not broken.