Senior Year But Make it COVID-19
I am currently writing this in line, standing six feet part from the person in front of me, on a basketball court that is no longer used for basketball. I wait for the person behind a small sheet of plexiglass to say next.
I give them my name, phone number, and email address. They give me a cotton swab and a test tube. After that, I sanitize my hands and go to a nurse who watches me swab my nose and place the cotton swab inside the test tube. Once that is done, I exit the way the arrows point, sanitizing my hands once more. I have completed my ninth, maybe it was my tenth I’ve lost count, COVID-19 test since being back on campus.
I begin my walk to a classroom in the science building, not the typical place for a history class, but it has the most lecture halls to accommodate the incoming freshman class that always seems to have an influx of biology majors. Now it means that there is enough classroom space to hold in-person classes. Classes of fifteen students take up space where a hundred used to sit. The class of hundred is now online. When I enter the class there are stickers on 80% of the chairs that read “this seat is not available”. I pick one of the available seats in the front and place my stuff down. I walk over and grab a sanitizing wipe to clean my desk before class. It is one of the protocols to be able to maintain in-person classes (2 out of 5 of my classes are in person). For an hour and fifteen minutes, I listen to the muffled voice of my masked professor introducing the Atlantic World. I try to write down the faint words that I can hear. I begin to worry about how the people in the back of the classroom will hear him.
I try to pay attention in class but my mind wanders to the test. I am anxious to get the results. Will I receive an email saying that my results were negative and be relieved for two more days until I must go in again? Will I receive the dreaded phone call that means you tested positive and must now begin isolation? Will I have to move to isolated housing in the third week of classes? (I got an email).
These are the thoughts that fill my head as a sit through my lecture unable to hear and struggling to deal with a dry throat because I do not want to put my mask down to take a sip of water. At the end of class, I pack up my things, clean my desk one more time (thinking about the environmental toll), and go back to my room. I stay there for the rest of the day.
This is what my senior year has become and I wonder if coming back to campus was worth the toll.
