I have grown so extremely exhausted.
It has been two years since we first stepped into this terrifying unknown. The societal fight against COVID-19 has felt more like a dance, at times, than a march. A leap forward, a swing sideways, a collection of breathtaking moments that have decidedly delivered more confusion and frustration than peace and tranquility. Undoubtedly, we each bear unique bruises garnered during these formidable years.
Despite the length of this pandemic, it is simply disappointing how little we have collectively grown. As of the time of this letter’s composition, we have — once again — broken our College record for the most simultaneous cases of not-so-novel coronavirus on campus at a flattering 176 community members in isolation. My exhaustion has deepened multidimensionally; with every new case, with every mask worn incorrectly, with every last act of COVID-negligence. I hypothesized from the outset of the pandemic that I would become desensitized to others’ public breaches of COVID-19 policy, but I have learned that exactly the opposite is true. My frustration has grown exponentially with time, and is likely headed toward a vertical asymptote.
Motivated by a thinning glimmer of hope as the window between my rage and the asymptote closes, I am taking to my keyboard to write this stern letter, principled by the idea that sometimes folks need to hear things they do not want to hear. The words “Oles can, Oles will” have not lost their potency over me yet.
My heart aches for the full, traditional “college experience” stolen from us. A junior myself, I often yearn for what I had here just two years ago. Long, sleepless nights spent awake with friends playing card games, painting, playing music, or merely being in one another’s presence. Face-to-face interaction uninhibited by masking and intentional physical distance. Not a single size limit on friend groups. Harmless, guilt-free, no-strings-attached fun. Who doesn’t miss it?
There have been many times since the advent of the vaccines last year when it has been easy to pretend we are back to those times. This, however, is not one of those times. Having been in close contact with a COVID-positive individual within the past week (and after receiving virtually zero support from the Contact Tracing team regarding this, not even a test), I am reminded more than ever of the importance of individual responsibility. Akin to many challenges in the rich suite of environmental issues, we face a “tragedy of the commons” problem at the heart of our case trends. Students pay good money for the college experience, and COVID-19, even in its weaker moments, firmly limits the aggregate amount of this experience to be had.
Yet, a student body of self-interested actors is practically bound to over-consume this public good. We see this over-consumption in action: giant parties off-campus every weekend, numerous small, but unmasked gatherings in the residence halls, regular tables of 20+ closely-packed folks in Stav. These behaviors are annoying and obnoxious at their best, while malicious and representative of our community’s entitlement at their worst. Certainly they are disrespectful. With our case numbers as high as they are now, we have — yet again — stymied our access to the quality of social life we need to thrive as human beings. We have recklessly endangered the vulnerable, at-risk members of our community. We have recklessly endangered those who do not have safe living environments off-campus. We have recklessly endangered the spirit of St. Olaf College.
I find it shocking this can still be called an accident after so many failed learning opportunities.
I have intentionally left out many details about the virus’s negative health effects because information is widely available on the subject elsewhere and beyond the scope of this letter. Similarly, I chose to omit remarks about how the school’s administration has handled COVID-19, as those concerns should constitute an entirely separate letter. My case is based entirely on the current unsustainable social environment on campus.
My sincerest hope for this open letter is that it will inspire substantive changes in campus-wide social behaviors, attitudes, and values toward the mitigation of COVID-19. Most likely, this letter will not circle around to the people who ought to hear my frustration the most. However, I hope that even in this scenario, the readers of this letter can find one another, find the will to coalesce against campus COVID-negligence, and find the strength to continue fighting the good fight, even if we must do so six feet apart.
