By Claire Ferris ’21
On March 11, 2020, I was sitting in my living room.
The world seemed nervous yet relatively normal, infused with an augmented amount of its usual chaos that kept me eagerly attentive to my commitments. Then came Dr. Ehrhardt’s email.
Like many of my peers, I read it with trepidation and fear, but it seemed like there was a silver lining: we would only be conducting school virtually for two weeks, right? With each passing day of those two weeks, it became increasingly clear to me how incredibly inaccurate that statement was. It was no surprise when another email came at the end of the period, signaling that we’d be learning virtually for the rest of the trimester.
Dr. Ehrhardt’s announcement on that fateful day brought mixed feelings from some of my peers. For some, like Tommy Frank (’21), the announcement brought a bit of relief and happy impermanence: “I was actually really looking forward to staying home at that point. I had become overwhelmed with extracurriculars and starting to look at college, so it was a welcome change for me. I really just saw virtual learning as an indefinite extension of break.” For others, apprehension and fear. Frances Smyth (’24) explains: “It was weird to think that I wouldn’t see any of my friends or classmates in person at all for the rest of the year.”
And not seeing people was difficult. As someone who could probably (to my dismay) live comfortably at home for the rest of her life, even I found those last few weeks of the 2019-2020 school year especially brutal. Isolation aside, it was the uncertainty and hysterical incomprehensibility of our situation that struck me most. What was coming next? No one knew, save for perhaps the high-level medical professionals who had dedicated their lives’ work to telling the public just that. And it was difficult to continue school in an environment that made it seem like school wouldn’t matter for the foreseeable ever. Sinking deeper into my bed, camera off, I loudly proclaimed to no one that I got an answer of thirty when the rest of my physics class had reached a consensus of one. I went for my daily state-sanctioned quarantine walks, and my friends and I FaceTimed each other at strange hours of the night in attempts to make time pass.
Though I recognize my experience was lovely in comparison to most, the upending of time as a concept has made the COVID-19 pandemic unbearable to all. What are we, if not beings of habit and repetition? I rejoiced in some semblance of normalcy at the beginning of this school year, as a new grade brought a new way of facing my zoom class: upright.
For the Freshmen, starting a new school year meant navigating an entirely new world – virtually. Smyth reflects on the awkwardness of her entrance into the Upper School: “Starting the year virtually as a freshman was a bit uncomfortable, due to the fact that I don’t know many of the new people in my grade, and I didn’t even get the chance to meet them. I hope that next year we will get to spend more time getting to know each other and developing our stories on campus, and maybe the new schedule will bring new opportunities for classes and time for community service!” For the Freshmen especially, time has brought a feeling of dread, like it is being wasted online instead of forming friendships and life experiences.
Time has repeatedly given me small jolts of its unpredictable nature throughout the year, until most recently, when it startled me with the announcement that Cary Academy would move into yellow mode for about six weeks at the end of the year. A year and six days after we had accepted our fate as confined to our homes, our screens, our beds, we were offered a new one: that of all-school, in-person learning. I had adapted a new habit, a new state of permanence in our mixed-media learning – the announcement wholly surprised me, but as a senior running out of steam, I decided to cautiously accept my fate.
Yellow mode seemed to come as a surprise to many members of the Upper School, with Sonia Shah (’22) noting: “I was definitely pretty surprised when Dr. Ehrhardt first sent out that email, since I was expecting that CA wouldn’t return to full occupancy until the next school year.” While the people I spoke to have also enjoyed orange mode, with both Shah and Smyth commenting on the slower, more manageable pace virtual school brings, there was an overwhelming consensus of excitement to see friends that were placed in other cohorts, and to feel a sense of togetherness on campus again. “I miss my friends in the other cohort and am ecstatic to see them again,” posits Arielle Curtis (’21).
This excitement does come with concerns: “I’ve been a little worried about the increased chance of infection, but I won’t be anymore once I get vaccinated. I think movement in between classes, especially in the upper school building, will be the most dangerous part, since before the pandemic people crowded the hallways in a way that would be entirely unsafe today,” remarks Frank. Other concerns include social distancing in classrooms, the parking situation, and, unanimously, lunch – both obtaining and eating near others when there’s twice the number of people on campus. Though uncertain, CA always manages to find a solution – and I’m certain we’ll be able to navigate a new, yellow world. Chiefly among these solutions, hope: “I hope that as everyone gets vaccinated and cases start to drop, CA will start to fully return to normal,” asserts Shah.
As most of the Upper School looks ahead to a start to the 2021-2022 school year in its (tentatively) full, yellow glory, us seniors are left with a new sense of uncertainty surrounding our college experiences. Frank approaches the uncertainty with optimism: “the college I’ll be attending is planning to start normally next year, and it will probably look very similar to the fall of 2019 since I believe they’ll require everyone on campus to be vaccinated. I’ll just be curious to see whether they keep some of the larger lecture classes online or not.”
Yes, the remainder of 2021 may consist of the American public engaging in an ongoing, futile effort to grasp time by its tricky hands. But as time begins to resemble routine again, we’ll be able to rejoice in the simple, eternal delight of human company – hopefully vaccinated company, that is.