It was this time three years ago that we were coming back from winter break in my first year at Stevens. Our spring break week was stacked on the end of winter break to prevent unnecessary travel. I started my eighth semester off with a bout of coronavirus, and I’ve had a lot of time in isolation to reflect on how Stevens and the rest of the world have changed since it started. I forgot the stress of quarantine, having to change plans last minute, reschedule or cancel meetings, and figure out what can be done from home. You’re focused on protecting people going forward and hope everyone you previously interacted with isn’t sick.
In the Fall of 2020, it was just the first years on campus, and in the Spring, seniors were allowed to return. I didn’t grasp the scale of senior design projects then, but now I cannot fathom trying to coordinate it fully virtually. There were no upperclassmen on campus to show us the ropes, give advice, or help us learn about our classes and majors. It was one shock of independence to move away from home and again to carve our own paths on campus. Dining staff, RAs, and the occasional campus police were the most authority I interacted with in freshman year. Those dining hall staff were benevolent gods: Pierce was take-out only, but you could select as much as you wanted from each station. The containers were giant and plastic, load-bearing: if I ordered just chicken and fries, they loaded that thing up with like five chicken breasts.
The protocol in freshman year was strict; it often felt like Stevens was overly careful or that some rules could be skirted. Masking was required at all times in all spaces except your own room. There were people I met that I didn’t know what they looked like for months, and the first time I saw them without the mask, I had to readjust because I had created a different mental image of them. There were tents and tables set up outside Palmer and Babbio to encourage socialization outside. Only you and your roommate were allowed inside your room, and if you were caught breaking this rule, you were sent off campus for a two week suspension. When it got colder, and the only option was to socialize indoors, we had the chance to explore the academic buildings and our choice of study areas or lounges. It was a small community; just around 500 first-years lived on campus, and it felt like we were pioneers of hybrid learning. Every Wednesday, we went to the Pond Lot, or in colder months, Canavan, to spit in a tube and find out if we had COVID. Every Tuesday, the numbers were released, and it was always a source of gossip: the rates were low, but did I interact with them? I did find it useful to have someone else responsible for contact tracing. The last thing you want to do is think about while sick is your responsibilities to other people.
If a person identified you as a close contact, you’d all be shipped off to Castle Point Hall to quarantine for a full 14 days, a nerve-wracking process. If you listed a name that you didn’t infect, you needlessly socially isolated them for two weeks. If you leave someone out, the close contact list grows longer. It’s embarrassing to be irresponsible with your health, and so easy to say you’re fine when you’re not. There’s a level of obliviousness and a feeling that it can’t be that bad, I’m probably just tired. Informing your close contacts is responsible, but it’s also your personal medical information, and in no other capacity are you required to tell someone about that. Getting a close contact email was alarming and confusing, you wished you could know exactly who and when you had contact with this person so you could inform your own circle.
At the time, it felt like we ran campus, and when everyone returned in my sophomore year, it was shocking again to see the bustle of people in between classes. At 4000 undergrads, it can feel small constantly seeing the same people in your classes, but there are still people that I’m meeting that have been here the whole time. My entire college experience has been influenced by the pandemic, yet it’s easy to forget that it’s not over. In so many ways, we feel post-pandemic, but these health risks and anxieties are still present. If you feel like you can power through an illness, consider not just your commitments but how you’re impacting others by showing up sick.
