"My COVID Summer" : Students Share Experiences, Hopes for the Future
I teach writing and reporting to first-years and sophomores at St. Lawrence University in Canton, New York. All of my classes emphasize the importance of storytelling. Whether telling your own stories or listening to others’, storytelling can (among other things) increase self-esteem and self-awareness, promote emotional healing, and foster empathy, compassion, and understanding. We need all of that right now.
St. Lawrence University students, like students everywhere, have faced a range of issues connected to the global pandemic. One of my students lost his grandmother to COVID-19. Another student, who is Asian-American, said he experienced racism he attributed to fears about the origins and potential spread of the virus. Two other recent students, one in Brooklyn, New York, and another in Spring, Texas, reported being sickened with COVID-19. Many more stories have gone untold.
A few weeks ago I reached out to former students from all over the country—and all over the world—asking them to share their experiences from this difficult summer.
Here are their stories.
Jingchen Yu, ‘23
Changsha, Hunan Province, China
International student Jingchen Yu documented her arduous trip from her university in northern New York to her home in China amid the pandemic.
Cameron Buhl, ‘23
South St. Paul, Minnesota
“I developed a relationship with people who I would have never met through the job and by basically becoming their lifeline.”
My COVID summer at the beginning was hard to adjust to as I was accustomed to being around my teammates on the hockey team at St. Lawrence and then I was separated from them completely. As a member of the hockey team we don’t have much opportunities to go home during the school year, so I was excited to head home and see all my friends and family, but as we all know we weren’t allowed. I began working a job delivering groceries to those who were at risk or weren’t comfortable leaving home due to COVID. This became very rewarding and I developed a relationship with people who I would have never met through the job and by basically becoming their lifeline. I was also very close to the riots and protests due to the wrongful killing of George Floyd as I am from South St. Paul, Minnesota. Most of the protests were about 10-15 minutes from my house and I am proud of the change that has been brought from those and the work that is still left to be done!
Madi Amico, ‘22
Ballston Spa, New York
“Our sense of community has been redefined. It is no longer human touch that makes us feel love, but a screen with little squares and little faces of people living in different time zones.”
A Black Lives Matter Protest in early July in Saratoga Springs, New York. (Credit: Madi Amico)
I sat in the backseat of my boyfriend’s Subaru Outback with the window barely cracked so I could smell the June heat on the pavement. I stared out the window, sunglasses on and a home-sewn cotton mask covering my face, longing for what was supposed to be. As we drove through the old streets of my town, I saw my memories dancing on the sidewalks, mocking me, as I tiredly rested my chin on my hand and dreamt of the summer that could’ve been. I felt the car slowing and we stopped at a stop light, adjacent to one of those old colonial homes that I love, and suddenly, I saw it—normalcy.
I saw the people laughing around their wicker table on their veranda. In their yard, the pear trees were budding and the delicate white petals were showing their faces to the strange new world.
Families are reconnecting. Chalk art is covering the black top again. And amidst all of the confusion, sadness and anger I feel, I see so much joy piercing through the chaos of the world. Our sense of community has been redefined. It is no longer human touch that makes us feel love, but a screen with little squares and little faces of people living in different time zones.
“[I] watch in admiration as people laugh from six feet apart and love from a distance.”
So I straighten my sunglasses, pull my mask up further, and watch in admiration as people laugh from six feet apart and love from a distance.
The car finally halts at my sister’s new house. She is already standing outside with her ripped-up piece of cardboard with “Black Lives Matter” etched in Sharpie. We hopped out of the car, eager to join the march and protest that was about to begin in our little town. It was humbling and empowering to walk the streets and stand in solidarity with the BIPOC who have faced injustices in my small upstate New York town. It brought the national movement under a magnifying glass as I listened to their stories and learned of the ways they had been mistreated in school, by law enforcement and by other residents in the area.
The world feels like it’s been spinning at a more rapid pace than normal. I’ve been doing my best to take it all in, absorb it and learn from it all.
Stefan Dragićević, ‘22
Sovljak, Serbia
“My escape from the fear of the uncertainty created by the global pandemic developed into an escape from the police brutality. ”
I dreamed of stepping once again on the concrete staircase of my family house and opening the door of comfort and childhood memories. I desperately desired to run away from the fear and hopelessness created by the global pandemic and a small room on the campus where only ghosts resided. However, the idealized world that I was seeking was just an illusion, created subconsciously to protect me from the cruelty of the present.
As soon as I peeked behind the door, I realized that my village of Sovljak did not look as I recalled. The 24/7 curfew has planted the seed of distrust amongst its inhabitants. I was not just terrified by the emerging situation. Rather, being unable to interact with my neighbors and attend community events that were a core of our close relationship, I realized I was sorely missing human interaction.
While trapped in my household, my mother, my brother and I decided to strengthen our bonds with one another and with the untouched nature of my village. We sought comfort in the long-neglected art of organic farming. In the family-owned alley, overgrown with vegetation between the oak and beech forests, we anticipate the results of our hard work. Among other kinds of vegetables, our garden will eventually bring forth tomatoes, carrots, and kidney beans.
“Although isolation was imposed on my village as a precaution, very soon I found myself marching down the streets of the nearby capital city of Belgrade, affected by massive demonstrations against the ruling Serbian Progressive Party (read: the Serbian government.)”
Although isolation was imposed on my village as a precaution, very soon I found myself marching down the streets of the nearby capital city of Belgrade, affected by massive demonstrations against the ruling Serbian Progressive Party (read: the Serbian government.) While on TV we witnessed the heroism of our doctors and nurses who consistently fought to protect the health of the nation, our government implemented the Special Anti-Terrorist Unit to, contradictory to their lawful purpose, clear out the streets of the city from angry and dissatisfied youth in brutal ways. Until yesterday I enjoyed the benefits of fresh air only to now inhale chemicals released by the expired teargas.
Unexpectedly, my escape from the fear of the uncertainty created by the global pandemic developed into an escape from the police brutality. Although chaotic at times, my new place of comfort has become the streets of Belgrade, as the beliefs of other demonstrators have been integrated into my value system.
Melanie Marulanda, ‘21
Spring, Texas
“Everything is bigger in Texas, which is probably why my fever was so high.”
Everything is bigger in Texas, except maybe the closets. A week into quarantine, my too-big bed became suffocating. Zoom University and Cinema City were in the same spot: Left side of my bed. The other half went to my laptop and books. I lasted a week before I set up camp in my closet. I would crawl out at 06:00 and by 13:00 I was back in the closet. Be it reading, homework, or hiding it was in the closet.
Everything is bigger in Texas, hence the 9,000+ cases. With such a big population no one could resist driving six hours to see another friend on the opposite side of Texas. It was a competition to see which county could rack up the most points. Most cases. The most deaths. My closet may have been located in a red zone but that was nothing but an adjective for those around me. Family and friends did not care about the color or the number, they simply wanted to go out and see the world. Even though I hid in my closet, I soon became another statistic to Spring, Texas.
Melanie Marulanda, ‘21, in her 51 x 44 x 96 closet. (Credit: Melanie Marulanda)
Everything is bigger in Texas, except maybe the masks. Noses were out, chin straps were in. In the little time I was healthy and left my closet, I rarely saw a full mask in use. Although I spent most of my time in the closet, my parents did not. They went out, ate, saw friends, went to church, and got sick. My four walls were no match for the pandemic and I soon joined.
“My four walls were no match for the pandemic and I soon joined.”
Everything is bigger in Texas, which is probably why my fever was so high. For three weeks I was forced to sleep in my bed due to the illness. As I was forced out of my closet I was also forced to confront my parents on their views over the virus. It was a lost cause. Nearly a month without venturing into my safe place I was suddenly hospitalized. That meant another two days outside of my closet... this time even further away.
Bigger is not better. In my small closet, I found peace, safety, and most importantly a change of scenery. Although the closet was far from comfortable, I was happy. Everything may be bigger in Texas, but that is not always a good thing.
Flutura Çhelaj, ‘23
Prishtina, Kosovo
“We need to hold onto the uneasiness; we need to use this momentum of passion!”
My greatest joy during quarantine were my three Siamese cats. Their names are Gnoochi, Pancho and Macmac (“mac” stands for “cat” in my mother tongue and yes, it is not the most creative name we could come up with). Their names kind of sum up my recent months of quarantine, coincidentally.
Melanie Marulanda, ‘21, in her 51 x 44 x 96 closet. (Credit: Melanie Marulanda)
We’re all a little fatter here. Quarantine’s lack of movement and encouragement of binge-eating and binge-watching TV shows has made us all fall in love with pasta, macaroni, spaghetti and real Gnoochi. As a result, we care a little less about our figures.
Pancho Villa was a Mexican revolutionary general. He is a prominent figure of the Mexican Revolution. The people of Kosovo, Mexico, the world—all of us—need change right now more than ever. We need a revolution. We need less racists, better candidates and more teamwork. The pandemic has brought us all together into looking at how messed up the world really is. Social media friends on my end have become overwhelmingly more aware of world politics and humanitarian issues while quarantined at home. I see less distractions and more discussions. But when the bars briefly opened up here, the people around me suddenly put the lockdown in the past. They were all tired, it was June and they only wanted to have a good time. So briefly, when I got a glimpse of the “old reality” in the pubs of Prishtina, I noticed that Pancho needed to be much more than just a social media activist to be a revolutionary. We need to hold onto the uneasiness; we need to use this momentum of passion!
“We need a revolution. We need less racists, better candidates and more teamwork.”
Macmac, the mother cat of Pancho and Gnoochi, was just a cat before giving birth to the two kittens who have guided me with purrs throughout the hardships of the pandemic. Watching them grow up, I returned to the roots of our existence. As living creatures on this Earth, we need love to persist. We need to embrace our fears, not push them aside, we need to share toilet paper, not fight for it, and we need to learn from our past to grow love for our future.
Emma Hagadorn, ‘22
Johnsburg, New York
“I try not to let the pandemic affect the quality of service I try to give, like socializing with the guests and helping them. ”
I’m fortunate enough to be able to work during this time. I work 8-12 hours a day as the Head of Operations at an outdoor retreat in the Adirondacks. This is my fifth year working and this year has definitely brought a lot of changes. We operate from June to October, so I made the decision to do the Fall SLU semester remotely in favor of being able to work until October. Though the decision was a little hard to make since I love SLU and being on campus, I wanted to make the best decision for my own future, and having more work experience as a manager in hospitality is more valuable to me at this time. I find a lot of joy in being able to provide the retreat’s guests with an escape from whatever this pandemic has brought to them. I try not to let the pandemic affect the quality of service I try to give, like socializing with the guests and helping them. Being able to be social during this time has helped me see the different sides to the pandemic. I definitely think that there’s a privilege that comes with being able to go on vacation during this time, just as much as there’s a privilege with being able to have a job during a global pandemic. Overall I’m happy to help people “forget” about the world around them, even if it’s just for a few days in the outdoors.
Dylan Watkiss, ‘22
Phoenix, Arizona
“The November election is the first election I am eligible to vote. Now more than ever we need to use our voices.”
Part of the charm of watching old movies is seeing how different the world used to be. The poor camera quality and subpar special effects are fascinating to me. New films wow us with their CGI and crazy effects, or at least they used to back when we could go to movie theaters. Now watching movies from my home television, the effects on me are entirely different. Pre-COVID I never would have thought that a party scene in a show would surprise me. I never expected to watch a scene in a crowded restaurant and think, “Where are their masks?” “Why aren’t they socially distanced?!” “I bet they get shut down in two weeks!”
COVID has made me feel a lot of different emotions. It has also taught me that we don’t have much control over what happens to us but we have full control over how we react. Some days I wake up angry that my life has completely changed, and I don’t know when, or if, it will go back to normal. Other days I am grateful my life has slowed down and made me realize what is important, like spending time with people I love. Going back to school would prevent me from seeing my mom and dad for almost an entire year. FaceTime makes the 2,464 miles between us somewhat bearable, especially since I’ll be living in Syracuse until I can go back to school in the spring. Taking a gap year puts my life and career plans on hold. Everything is on hold right now.
“I see some of my peers out partying like there is not a dangerous virus on the loose. It’s disheartening to see how little regard people have for other people’s lives.”
Because everything is on hold, I have had a lot of time to reflect on the world and the ways people are choosing to react to this pandemic. I think the most disturbing aspect about coronavirus is how little people care to buy in and do the right thing. I see some of my peers out partying like there is not a dangerous virus on the loose. It’s disheartening to see how little regard people have for other people’s lives. We are all so wrapped up in our own realities that we are unwilling to stop going out even if it would save other people from getting sick.
2020 has been a rough year with COVID, the murder of George Floyd, the Presidential Election, and climate change. But I think this year was a much needed wake up call. We must address climate change before it is too late. We must do better for minorities oppressed by systemic racism. We must do something about the income inequalities and lack of affordable healthcare for everyone in our country. We need to care about other people enough to pause our own lives for the health and safety of others. The November election is the first election I am eligible to vote. Now more than ever we need to use our voices. Personally, I will not stand idly by and let the injustices and wrongdoings of this country continue.
When future generations look back on the movies from 2020, I wonder what they will see. Will they watch our movies and be amused or disgusted? Will there even be future generations? I guess that is up to us.