A local trombonist talking about how the pandemic has changed live shows; a column analyzing gendered marketing; a Nexus contributing writer opening up after a truly unthinkable tragedy: another week of stories is in full swing at our site. Reading them, I’m reminded again of the importance of having a diverse selection of student voices.
Sometimes, in the summer months when things quiet down on campus, our volunteer base slows down, as well; maybe it’s the remote learning, but the pace seems to have not really slowed too much at Nexus HQ as we enter the summer months this year.
As I write this on Monday, May 31, it’s still overcast out, so it’s hard to believe that summer is on the way, but it is, and if summer is on the way, that means fall isn’t far.
And fall means change. And this year that means one thing for students: we will all be back on campus in the fall.
Things will be back to normal, we’re all hoping, and to say that that excites me is a massive understatement. My heart needs campus life. My soul needs face-to-face interaction. My ears need live concerts in the harbour on hot July days. And my brain needs cafeteria coffee, along with some in-person instruction to combat what is currently, at least, close to a failing grade. I don’t quite know what I was thinking taking a seven-week online psychology course on month 16 of isolation. Or maybe I do know what I was thinking: when fall plans were first announced and I signed up for this course, I wasn’t comfortable with the idea of being back on campus, but I’m coming around to the idea of a full return.
Let’s come around together. Let’s support each other, because, like in March 2020, another transition is coming (granted, it’s a positive one this time), and there are parts of that that will take getting used to. But, oh, how I need that hustle and bustle of campus life back. So much of my own fear of inertia was propelled by the pandemic.
Better days are coming. A new beginning is near; hang tight for a few more weeks, a couple of months, tops. The bottom line is this: there will come a time when masking up to go into a store is a distant memory, just as scrubbing your groceries or going to a movie or big concert is now.