The Class of COVID-19

Since the very first time I set foot on my college campus, I’ve been imagining precisely the moment I would cross a stage, grasp the smooth leather and gold embossing of a diploma, and flip the tassel on my hat before tossing it ceremoniously into the air. A culmination of sorts–a coming of age, after 16 straight years of ascribing my identity solely to being a student. I watched my friends do it, year after year–I’d take their graduation pictures, sat politely with their parents through treacherously long general convocations, and waited for the moment when I would be the one sitting next to my peers, chuckling over inside jokes and crying over moving speakers. 

Then, in an instant, a pandemic broke loose. To their credit, many universities were quick to respond by moving courses online. Events, clubs, and sports were fully canceled; those externalities of college that make being there so much more than just going to class. Most students mourned the loss of these activities, but for the seniors waiting in the curtains to be called across the stage, a much heavier weight was imminent. These cancelations mean no more senior traditions. No more graduation. We have been reduced to a group of 20-somethings self-isolating while watching their professors scramble to figure out how Zoom works. Meanwhile, we watch havoc break loose in other countries. We see people dying, entire societies shutting down. The US is one step away from the creation of a new state: that of mass terror.

The S&P 500 fell steadily for nearly two weeks. The Dow Jones hit its lowest close since December 2016. A nationwide recession appears unavoidable, and fears loom over if the freshly elected president will be able to stimulate the economy enough to recover from this crisis. And college seniors still have every right to be upset that we were robbed of the final days of an integral part of our lives. But what I fear us seniors are failing to realize is that we might just end up as the country’s beacon of hope. I have friends working in nursing residencies laying their lives on the line to heal those who have been infected. I know political science majors who are prepared to give their life up to create infrastructure and policies that will not only mend our nation, but every nation that has been affected. As members of the University of Utah’s business school, my classmates and I will certainly face obstacles–as a period of economic stagnation typically means fewer jobs–but we will work tirelessly to support companies and incentivize consumers to invest in the economy again. We are entering a turbulent job market where many will feel powerless, but we must not forget we have the power to help those who have fallen on hard times.

A cure for COVID-19 has not yet been found. But if framed just right, if we rise to the opportunity presented rather than shying away out of sadness from what we’re missing out on, we can try to be the nation’s cure. A cure for the doubt and difficult times that will characterize the aftermath of this disease. To me, that sounds far more important in the grand scheme of things than following some arbitrary ritual. 

When I went to summer camp as a child, we used to sing this song on our last night together. At the end of the song, the lyrics say “It’s such a perfect night / It doesn’t seem quite right / That this should be my last with you. / And as the years go by / I’ll think of you and sigh / This is goodnight / and not goodbye.” Akin to campers at the end of their journey in the woods, we’ve all faced stress and hardship in our college experiences but look back on this time as the best four (or more) years of our lives. With that knowledge, we must close the curtains early, and say goodnight with the knowledge that it might truly be goodbye. The class of 2020 will not walk across their respective stages together, but will be forever more intertwined through enduring a worldwide crisis together. We say goodnight to this chapter of our lives, promising that our contributions to society someday (much sooner than we expected) will be to help the world heal from this tribulation.