The morning of Tuesday, September 7 was a bright one. As I slammed my car door and felt familiar concrete, I looked around and thought the weather couldn’t have been more perfect—not too hot, not too cool—and, as if two years had never passed, there were the tents with bright and smiling students faces under them, some of them masked, often dependent on how close another person was to them. There were students everywhere, just like before, and the excitement was evident.
There was another emotion I that I was picking up: it seemed as if the entire student body was emanating a gigantic sigh of relief, silent but alive and floating through the air. If we think about it, we’ve really been holed away for a very long time, and although many people enjoy online communication, actual contact with other people is terribly important for our sanity. Camosun students and professors really became heroic in this Godawful absence of normalcy. We soldiered ahead, because there was no other choice; we did our work, collaborating and bonding the best we could, and if anyone was at all like me, they might find someone in the class interesting and ache for campus days where they could have gone up to that interesting person and start a school friendship or gain a new study partner.
Still, given the suddenness and severity of the situation, the whole process was handled quite masterfully. I can’t begin to imagine the energy in the rooms when the entire COVID mess started to unfold and Camosun leaders had to come together (fast), and try to figure out a plan. But I don’t really want to think about that any more. Somehow, we are together again; even if we are swathed in masks and sanitizer, at least our human energy is mingling again. We get to study together again (I don’t know how close, but, meh), we get to walk the campus and see the seasons change. We get to actually hear each other’s opinions, or read them. (Nexus back in print; yes!)
I’ve already written about the kind of year I’ve had; COVID aside, it was the worst year of my life. I’m getting through it with the support of people, and found that today, at Camosun’s Centre for Accessible Learning, I lost myself to my emotions, admitted I needed help and assistance, and was given something I will never forget. The woman speaking with me saw my fragile state, so she sprayed both our hands in sanitizer, just so she could take my hands in hers. That gesture of pure and complete kindness will never be found online.
We have left our proverbial caves, perhaps some of us somewhat institutionalized, but what we have come back to will hopefully ignite the flame, and given the smiles and energy I’ve seen so far, I have no doubt it will.
It is a wonderful thing to see you all.