I’d like to ask you to think back to the year 2020.
A bit of a daunting task, I know, but stay with me.
The world had to rapidly adjust to the seemingly unstoppable spread of COVID-19. Public health crises, political turmoil, extreme social deprivation and mass hysteria characterized this historic and unforgettable year.
However, I’m willing to argue that one of the most unforgettable aspects of 2020 for millions of students worldwide was just how dramatically different school looked as a result of the pandemic.
Instead of walking to class to take notes in auditoriums with our peers, we strained our eyes staring at laptop screens all day. Zoom fatigue and academic burnout spread amongst college students as quickly as the virus itself.
I was absolutely miserable during my months of online university. The days blended together as I yearned for a quick and painless return to “normal” life and classes.
Fast forward to fall 2021. It’s our first semester back on campus and despite the promised return to normalcy, everything feels different and borderline surreal.
Just a few weeks ago, my friends and I were so excited about the prospect of safely returning to campus, but something about this semester already feels wrong.
To be sure, there was a serious shock factor to my first day of classes. After my year of avoiding crowds and strangers, it felt illegal to be walking through campus with hundreds of other students. I was Kimmy Schmidt leaving her bunker, and the busy Quad was New York City.
Awkward socially distanced classroom seating, shouting over loud asthmatic HEPA filters and struggling to vocally project through a mask…these are merely a few of the quirks defining our new college experience.
And the sweltering heat that makes being outside—and in an AC-less Tureaud Hall—that much more uncomfortable? Well, that’s a different conversation entirely.
Whether you’re new to campus or a returning student, I think we can all agree this was never what we expected this semester to look like.
I honestly feel super disappointed already by this week. I don’t know what I was expecting, but it wasn’t to feel like I’m living in a depressing pandemic episode of The Twilight Zone.
Don’t get me wrong; I’m willing to adjust to this new, albeit wonky version of campus if it means having in-person classes while still respecting public health measures. It just feels like the university—administration, staff and students alike—is putting on a show in pretending everything is okay when this couldn’t be further from the truth.
New variants of the coronavirus are devastating Louisiana and its citizens, and it feels like the pandemic is running its course in reverse.
Being back on campus is an important milestone for many, but I also see it as improper timing with the current state of the world. Numerous health and safety precautions are being taken, and while I’m incredibly thankful for them, thinking about being on campus still leaves a bad taste in my mouth.
All we can do is roll with the pandemic’s punches until, bit by bit, we can return to our dearly missed “normal” college life. Until then, you can find me anxiously maneuvering around campus, doing a terrible job at pretending like everything is fine.
Emily Davison is a 20-year-old anthropology and English junior from Denham Springs.