In the wake of the coronavirus (COVID-19) pandemic, The Argus will feature personal essays on how life has change in strange, scary, or surprising ways. If you have a hot take, a serious reflection, a funny anecdote, or anything in between, please email elsmith@wesleyan.edu.

I don’t really know why I’m writing right now. I might simply be compelled by a need to scream into the world the muddy pool of thoughts and feelings in my head as I mull over the first week of attempted normalcy since the loss of Wesleyan’s spring semester due to the COVID-19 pandemic. 

I live with my 82-year-old grandfather in rural New Hampshire. After packing up my dorm room on March 13, I isolated myself from him because of his high-risk status. This time at home is especially painful for me because I live in the house my dad lived in. He passed away unexpectedly last fall. Being here reminds me of him every day. Social isolation is subtly exhausting. I didn’t realize how much I craved and missed my professors and classmates. A surprising wave of relief washed over me as familiar faces and voices began to populate my first Zoom call early Monday afternoon.

Beyond relief, Zoom creates absurd daily situations, presenting us with new questions we didn’t even know need answers. Video-on, or video-off? We MUSTN’T overlook important questions! A friend asked, “Is it creepy that I like seeing people’s houses?” When put like that, definitely creepy! But there is something innocently captivating about examining the details of what’s going on in everyone’s little corner. I also want to put out there that the “virtual background” option holds an untapped reservoir of entertainment potential. Beach background? Grab a bucket-hat, tank-top, and throw on some sunscreen! Dress up for the role, Zoom doesn’t kink-shame! Not feeling the role play? You can always kick it to something more lo-fi like some puppers. I enthusiastically support video-on for the reasons stated above, among others. 

Zoom is a comedy of errors. However, it seems the errors outnumber the laughs. The premature initial joy at the suggestion of Zoom’s potential to replicate the familiar structure provided by classes fell away quicker than you can say, “I’m sorry, you cut out there for a second!” Technical frustrations distract from class, and despite professors’ best efforts, finding meaningful anecdotes about course material is extremely challenging. “What are you doing to motivate yourself to do work?” a peer half-jokingly, half-genuinely, asked during a check-in our professor holds before class.  Several heads silently nodded in solidarity. 

Maybe it just seems like there’s more work because we can’t get away from it. Campus-life provides several choices of workspaces: Olin, Sci-Li, Pi Café, Foss Hill in the spring, etc. It also allows for distinctly work-free spaces. One especially frustrating effect of online classes during quarantine is an unwelcome intrusion of inescapable work into previously work-free spaces. Many students’ home environments aren’t places where they can escape siblings, parents, grandparents, pets, etc. Clearly, more space presents an academic advantage for those who have it over those without such means. 

Working in spaces traditionally reserved for other activities results in fewer places where I feel relaxed at home. So far, I usually work at the kitchen table. Yesterday, I realized I was subconsciously and physically avoiding it. There’s no doubt in my mind that this is because I’ve started working there. The decreasing number of stress-free places at home has definitely compounded a preexisting feeling of restlessness, which is especially difficult during a time when leaving the house isn’t really an option.

The aforementioned personal and academic benefits of on-campus life, illuminated by the first week of online classes, are no-doubt some of the reasons Wesleyan would point to if asked to justify its exorbitant tuition. This begs the questions: Why aren’t students consolidating to demand a partial tuition refund? If you paid for a fruit basket, and received a box of raisins, would you want some money back? Many students are receiving a Residential Comprehensive Fee refund for unused dorm rooms, meals, and points. What about unused libraries? Classrooms? The gym? Dance studios, practice rooms, counseling, tutors, the list goes on, and on, and on…. It’s obviously complicated, but the absence of conversation on this topic in WesAdmits and Wesleyan Student Assembly groups chats is puzzling.  

At least I know I’m not alone in feeling a bit adrift.

“This isn’t what I signed up for,” one of my professors expressed.

Neither did we. Sorting through the onslaught of Zoom-invite emails to find the essential course updates with new syllabi and other information sent by professors is exhausting. I feel relieved that in a time of such heightened stress and uncertainty, most of my professors have accommodated students by either extending due dates or adjusting course material. 

However, on the winding, isolated trail of online education, I’ve encountered a strange figure. A deviant educator! A professor has mysteriously missed the memo that many students have never used some of the new, and now essential, online software required for some classes. “It’s not rocket science guys” and “You gotta be shitting me” are a couple quotes from this exacerbated professor. While professors are entitled to feel however they want, I think it’s pretty basic to expect the same level of professionalism online as in person. Additionally, given the demonstrably lower amount of discussion occurring in online courses so far, I’m baffled as to how a course could run over its scheduled time. I am curious whether there is an explanation for this, other than that a professor hasn’t put the requisite thought into adjusting their curriculum to match the extraordinary circumstances. I recognize the sample size is small but, looking back on the first week, I definitely miss being at Wesleyan a little bit more.

This week was just the beginning and I’m not really sure how to end this reflection. I want to shout out that if people on campus are looking to stay in the New England area over the summer, my mom made three rooms available at her house in southern NH. It’s a gorgeous spot; some really good hiking, lots of animal life, fast internet, easy access to pharmacies and food. Additionally, please use the resources the WSA is making available. Hoping everyone reading this reflection is safe and well!

Before I go, a few Wesleyan Week 1 Zoom quotes for the road:

“Omfg his baby is so cute; I can’t believe he just introduced us.”

“Yeah I know she’s been texting me all class.”

“When the prof coughs on Zoom…”

“FYI, this class is going to run over. We have a lot of material to get through guys.”

“I love that instead of adjusting the curriculum for the course, we are pushing over the time limit.” 

“He’s really losing it.”

“Jared left to smoke lmao”

 

Rowan Beaudoin-Friede can be reached at rbeaudoinfri@wesleyan.edu.