About four weeks ago, one of my roommates came home and told me that he had heard from a friend, who had heard from someone else, that due to the recent coronavirus outbreak, Harvard might switch to online classes after spring break. At the time, I thought what he was telling me sounded ridiculous. I joked that he shouldn’t believe everything he hears. I cited how Harvard is slow to change and never cancels anything… how we haven’t even had a snow day in years… how infeasible and impractical remote learning would probably be anyway.
Then, just one week later, Harvard administration began directly sending all students and faculty regular updates about the COVID-19 situation. First, university-sponsored travel to Level 3 infected regions was prohibited. Then, all non-essential university-sponsored international—and eventually, domestic—travel was banned. Deans were imploring faculty and students to familiarize themselves with Zoom, just in case. In a matter of only a couple of weeks, the situation suddenly felt so much more real.
Still, I never really believed we would have to switch to online learning for long, if at all. I certainly didn’t think we would have to move back home. I figured that as long as everyone mostly stayed put on campus, the situation would sort itself out. Besides, I had plenty of other things on my mind, from finishing my senior thesis to studying for midterms. I thought the administration was just being overly cautious. I believed I was safe inside the Harvard bubble.
All of that changed, however, on Tuesday, March 10.
I remember feeling really stressed that morning, not because of the coronavirus, but because I had stayed up late again working on my thesis. I purposely came to my 9 AM lecture early that day so I could put a couple finishing touches on my latest draft before class. My thesis was due in two days and I needed to email it to my lab mentor as soon as possible for a final read-through. I was so focused on emailing her my draft that I tuned out the frantic conversations going on around me as more students began to fill the lecture hall. About two minutes before lecture started, I sent the draft to my mentor. Then, I refreshed my inbox, where I finally found the source of all the commotion going on around me. It was an email from the president of Harvard, sent just 30 minutes ago, informing us that all undergraduate students would have to leave campus in the next five days and complete the remainder of the semester online.
I think we were all just kind of in shock after reading that email, as our minds raced trying to figure out how we would pack and get home with such short notice, all while wondering what this would mean for the fate of important events such as senior week and Commencement. Needless to say, no one was really able to pay attention in class that morning—or throughout the rest of the week.
Paradoxically, everything seemed to both speed up and slow down at once. On the one hand, all the things that I had been so stressed about going into that week, from finishing and printing my thesis to writing an annotated bibliography for another research project I hadn’t yet started, were no longer relevant, as nearly all deadlines got pushed back. Extracurricular commitments suddenly came to a halt, as well. On the other hand, there was a new sense of urgency as we prepared to leave campus. Instead of packing for my spring break trip to Puerto Rico, I had to pack up all the belongings I had spent four years accumulating. I ate a formal breakfast more times that week than I had all semester, as I tried to arrange as many farewell meals with friends as five days would allow. I wore my suit more times that week than I had all year, too, taking multiple rounds of senior photos with friends and attending impromptu early graduation ceremonies.
Among the very last things I packed up were these photographs I kept on the wall of my dorm room– it was too sad having to take down the decorations that had made my room feel more like home for so many months.
At first, a lot of us were mad at the administration for giving us such short notice to move out. Though a few other universities had switched to online learning at that point, hardly any had outright kicked their students off campus. Meanwhile, the world around us (in the U.S., at least) seemed to be going about its usual routines. When I went into lab that Tuesday, my mentor remarked how great it was that my family was local, since it meant I could still commute to lab even after moving back home. Harvard may have been changing, but the rest of my life, it seemed, probably wouldn’t.
It turned out, however, that Harvard was actually just a few days ahead of the curve. By Thursday, my lab mentor had completely changed her mind about the whole situation. She told me not to come in for the time being and that she herself would only be going in for essential work, which she would stick to doing in the mornings and on weekends, when fewer people would be around. A couple days later, our lab director outright suspended all in-person lab operations, and we were asked to submit a list of our most important samples and reagents in case there should be a shortage of storage supplies such that only a few items can be saved. At the same time, my friends from other colleges across the U.S. began receiving emails from their own administrations asking them not to return. Many of them had even fewer days to move out than I did. Some had been on spring break that week and now weren’t sure when they would be allowed back on campus to retrieve their belongings.
Throughout all of this chaos, I tried to remain grateful. At least I have a good home to return to, I reminded myself. At least I live close enough to be able to easily move my stuff back home, and at least my family has the financial means to continue to support me. Unfortunately, the same is not true for many international students or low income students across the country, some of whom have been given special permission to remain on their college campuses, but many of whom have not. Additionally, for many out-of-state college seniors planning to work in Boston next year, this intermediate move back home can create all sorts of logistical challenges in regards to storing or transferring belongings and finding housing for next year. I am thankful to be in a position where, so far, all of this is just personally inconvenient and nothing more.
More recently, I’ve been thinking a lot about the timing of the situation. Obviously, I wish this pandemic weren’t happening at all; the toll this disease has taken on individuals, communities, and the world is truly heartbreaking. But of all the times that it could be happening, in a weird way, I’m personally kind of grateful that the disruption is coming now. From a short-term perspective, I was feeling so sleep-deprived and stressed two weeks ago that having this sudden break in school and work was actually quite beneficial. From a longer-term perspective, I’m thankful that the social distancing measures and travel restrictions currently in place won’t alter the bulk of my college journey too much. Had this happened three years ago—my first year in college—it would have significantly disrupted the EMT certification course I was taking at the time, since in-person simulations are an important part of the training. Had this occurred two years ago, I would have missed out on my summer trip abroad. Had this been last year even, I might not have been able to write my senior thesis, since I had only just gotten clearance to work independently in lab at the end of February, and I needed the upcoming semester and summer to collect data. I feel really bad for the current underclassmen who now might not get to have these experiences, or might not get to have them in the way they intended.
Even so, while the Class of 2020 may not be missing out on as much academically or extracurricularly, one notable experience we are missing out on—or are at least postponing—is the culminating end-of-college celebration. I recognize that there will always be time to celebrate in the future and that most universities are working hard to ensure there will still be some sort of in-person graduation ceremony eventually. Nevertheless, it was especially hard leaving campus and saying bye to friends indefinitely without the usual end-of-year rituals that make these sorts of transitions easier.
With the fate of Commencement uncertain, some of my friends and I held an impromptu graduation ceremony. This photo is of us holding up our “diplomas” that a friend in the year below us made. Check out my friend Scotty’s description of the ceremony in this article!
To all my readers out there, wherever you are, I hope you’re staying safe and healthy, both physically and mentally. I hope that this will end soon, that we can go back to doing all the amazing things we usually do on a daily basis soon, and that we can celebrate together soon. Until then, I hope this blog can serve as a place to reflect and connect—a place to remember that we are not alone, even when everything around us is changing.
On Ariel's Mind 