A Year of Blue Light and Spit Tests

I think everyone can agree that the past 15 months have been unexpected and strange, and I think most people can agree that they're ready for things to go back to 'normal.' I'm not sure what 'normal' will feel like again after over a year of adjusting to 'unprecedented times' and 'the new normal' (as so many emails said), but I wanted to take the time to reflect on what the past year has been like.

When the pandemic started, I was 2 months into the spring semester of my freshman year at the University of Florida. I had just changed my major from Exploratory Engineering to Health Science and was trying to make my way on the pre-med track. I was working on joining some new clubs, meeting new people, and was excited to spend time with my new friends. I came back from spring break, excitedly reuniting with the girls in my dorm, the guys I'd met in the common room, and whoever I hadn't seen for a long 9 days. It was the beginning of March and the weather in Gainesville was finally sunny and warm - a welcome change from the rainy days of January and February. Plans were being made to go swimming or tubing at the springs over the weekend, parties were being planned for St. Patrick's Day the following week, and the last stretch of the spring semester was starting up. Older students warned that this part of the spring semester flew by, but everyone was excited.

Then, I vividly remember seeing the news in the dorm common room: universities across the nation were shutting down classes, prolonging spring break, and making efforts to avoid spreading disease. Students at UF received emails from professors cancelling classes, there was talk of going back home for two weeks and coming back in April for finals. Sure, midterms were coming up, but the hushed buzz in libraries had a different tune. I'm sure everyone remembers their own story of when the pandemic became real in their lives. For me - it was a culmination of moments. My friend's roommate asking if I heard the news of classes being cancelled starting Thursday, my new club's volunteer orientation at a nursing home being postponed to a week later, my sister being sent back home from Europe, a distant friend studying abroad in Greece being placed in quarantine in the hospital with a stomach bug while her friends were sent back to their homes, and surprised shouts across the dorm common room of "Tom Hanks has the coronavirus!" 

March 2020 Zoom Party from home

I know that my own experience of having my college life abruptly uprooted with tearful goodbyes of "We'll see you in two weeks!!" is an experience shared by millions of students across the US and around the world, but I never expected the lasting isolation of the shared experience. At first, there were few decisions to be made: everyone was to go home and quarantine with their families and classes were to be moved online. But as the summer passed, new questions arose. Should students move back up to their college towns, even though events were still virtual and classes were completely online? And later - who is it ok to see? Do you just accept that you're going to get sick? Or do you isolate yourself from most of your old friends for fear of getting your roommates and visiting family members sick? 

First day of classes - online and in Gainesville.

Once the fall came around, everyone made different decisions. Some of my friends moved in to their new apartments in Gainesville, some people stayed home and worked full time alongside classes. Incoming freshman made the difficult decision of living in a dorm at the higher risk of getting sick, moving into an apartment with the chance of having a hard time meeting people, or staying home until things calmed down. Game days, usually crowding the streets with tailgates, were suddenly much quieter. It was easy to forget which day it was, when, previously, you'd spend the whole week looking forward to Saturday's football. There was the mental toll of doing your homework, schoolwork, and classes all on the same computer from home, and there was the constant guilt of seeing someone outside your immediate bubble. While everyone did things differently, my roommates and I decided to continue to be cautious with our actions in the fall. Since we had most of the same friends to begin with, we almost exclusively met up with the same group of people. We fell into a comfortable rhythm and convinced ourselves it was safe. Though Florida had opened bars completely by September, we agreed that it was not something we found worth risking our health for. 

First Game Day - home game at home.

Then, one of our close friends and his roommates tested positive for COVID. We rushed to get tested ourselves, and even had some arguments about what the next step would be. Should we stop seeing the people we'd been seeing before? Our apartment became quietly divided over our 'COVID policy' and we were no longer comfortable hanging out with the people we'd been seeing. After our friend and his roommates completed their 14 day quarantine, a new set of issues arose. They now, supposedly, had immunity (at least for a couple months) while our apartment remained vulnerable. They started going to bars, tailgates, and parties while we continued to limit our interactions with people outside of our bubble. Though we missed our social life, it felt wrong to just accept our fate and get sick after months of being so careful. By the time winter break came around, we had just accepted our new college life of online classes, limited social interactions, and long walks as a way to escape being inside our apartment all day long. Calls with my brother led to suggestions of things to do in Gainesville that he remembered enjoying during his time at UF - all of which were currently closed or extremely limited. Letting loose after an exam meant shutting your laptop and walking from your bedroom into the living room to drink with your roommates. There was no dressing up, no long, drunken walks back home from a bar, and few nights of crazy stories. It was difficult to be spontaneous, and there was just this constant mental toll of wondering if your one questionable decision would get someone you cared about really sick. This was a far cry from the spontaneous, busy, and exciting college life people raved about, and definitely not how I expected the year to go.

Halloween with the neighbors.

The spring semester saw little change. Though there was the looming hope of the vaccine finally being available, it was still a semester of burnt eyes from blue lights and lectures that could be brought into the bathroom without anyone knowing. I became involved in a lab where I spent over 8 hours a week and didn't even know what the bottom half of my peers' faces looked like. My mentor in the lab would talk about one of his favorite restaurants in Gainesville and how he'd love to go again once the pandemic was over. Some classes were consider 'HyFlex' classes, in which portions of the class were in person, socially distanced and wearing a masks, while another portion of the class was online. A lecture of 300 students had 10 in the in-person lecture, and Physics discussion groups meant trying to catch the attention of a from a computer while he held a separate conversation with students you couldn't see. Every two weeks, I'd spit 2 mL of saliva into a tube with all the other students who had in-person classes to get tested for COVID and remain cleared for campus. Spring break was cancelled and replaced with two 'Recharge Days' in the middle of the week where professors were recommended (not required) to stop classes for the day and students were recommended to recharge (despite still having tons of course work to catch up on and plenty of professors who continued to hold lectures). The forgiveness professors had for students due to the strange nature of the pandemic and online classes was no longer present and interactions with other students continued to be extremely limited. There didn't seem to be any end in sight and summer loomed with a big question mark. Students and professors alike were burnt out and exhausted and just going through the motions. 

Finally, April 5, 2021, all willing adults in Florida were eligible to sign up for a vaccine. Days before, when the announcement came out and an email with a link to sign up was sent to all UF students, the website crashed while students frantically signed up to get a shot. The day of, professors released announcements about the process of being excused from exams due to side effects, students excitedly sported 'Beat COVID' tees (UF usually has Beat ____ Tees for major football games), and people arranged their schedule to make room for the shot. The shot represented freedom, a chance to return back to normal life, and a return to the pre-pandemic peace of mind. At UF, the mass vaccination effort took place at the stadium, and students lined up outside as they waited to eerily stand on the socially-distanced escalators that would bring you to the top of the stadium, where a long-awaited shot would be available. 

Vaccinated pt. 1

Vaccinate pt. 2 with celebratory ice cream

Though this was the beginning of the end of the pandemic for many, the pandemic continues to be a concern for many people around the world. This experience was shared by many, but was also extremely different for so many others. Though times of need often bring people together, this was a time that also drove many people to isolation. I learned a lot about myself in this past year, but I'm ready to start learning from my interactions with others once again.