This will be the last entry in my Journal of a Pandemic Year series. When I started the series, I said that I would keep it going until we reached the point that I returned to in person instruction. Well, after eighteen months, the day has arrived. Tomorrow, Monday, August 30th, I will walk into a classroom for the first time since March 6, 2020. Is it a good idea that we are doing this with Delta raging out of control and mask use purely voluntary? I doubt it. In fact, other colleges around us have moved online for the first month, but not mine. It is as if we think we can just wish the pandemic away. You may not be interested in the Rona, but the Rona is interested in you.
I hasten to assure you that this will not be the last post ever on my website, just the last in the series. My plan is to continue to make 2-3 posts a month on various different things, basically, whatever suits my fancy at the time, which is what I did prior to the pandemic year entries. Keep in mind though, that I am still scheduled for surgery on Sept. 14th and so I will probably be out of pocket for a few weeks after that.
I was actually back on campus this past week for meetings that could have been emails. This is the norm for us even in non-pandemic times. A matter of fact, college faculty all over spend a lot of times in meetings that could be emails. Still, it was nice to see people in person whom I haven’t seen since the beginning of this year and a half long nightmare. And speaking of nightmares, here I am on the 16th anniversary of Hurricane Katrina watching yet another major hurricane pummel the state I love. The good news is that Alex Wilson is on The Weather Channel right now, and I have a major crush on her.
I don’t know what this semester will hold. Hopefully, we will emerge on the other side unscathed. It’s going to be hard on the students. Those who had never attended college online before had to learn to adjust to that, and now they will have to adjust again. For me, walking into a classroom makes me feel like the old lady in the Titanic movie. ”It’s been 84 years.” That’s about how long it feels like I’ve been out. I’m not nervous, more like resigned to whatever may come.
Until next time, friends, take care of yourselves. And each other.