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Let’s face it: Zoom calls are awkward. In those seconds between when you join the meeting and your lecture begins, what are you supposed to do? Prepare your pen and notepad? Sip your morning coffee? Ask how the professor’s day is going, even though you know every day is the same in quarantine? Or perhaps you resort to a small talk staple and describe the weather where you are.
We all know the saying, “When life gives you lemons, make lemonade.” It’s supposed to inspire optimism in the face of adversity and get us to make the most of a bad situation. I, for one, have never liked this saying. What about the sugar? The water? Who is going to be squeezing all of those lemons? As a person with extensive childhood lemonade stand experience, I can tell you that making lemonade isn’t that easy. Unless you add strength, creativity and collaboration, lemons are just plain sour.
Whenever I get homesick at Dartmouth, I reminisce about my favorite places in my hometown. I think of midnight diner runs, hour-long conversations in my favorite cafe and the bagel shop that meets my notoriously high bagel standards. These places are as essential to my hometown as the people that inhabit it. Local businesses give my New York suburb its charm and sense of community.
Coming home for spring term means leaving many things behind at Dartmouth. Almost all students had to abandon campus, in-person classes, sports teams and social groups, all of which are losses we feel acutely. For members of the LGBTQ community, coming home can also mean abandoning or hiding entire components of their identity.
Health care workers are like firefighters: They will risk their lives running into a burning building to save people they don’t know. Unfortunately, right now there are often too many people for them to save, and they are entering burning buildings without protective equipment. But they keep running and trying anyway.
I have to start this piece by admitting something: I’m a little relieved commencement won’t be happening this June.
In a time when we’re more isolated than ever, social media is quickly becoming more prominent in our daily lives. Because we don’t have much to do, screen time has increased for many Americans, and social media usage appears to be rising too.
After trying to fall asleep for hours, plagued by the worried insomnia that living through a pandemic seems to cause, I rolled over to grab my phone and open the podcasts app — a last-ditch effort to soothe myself to sleep. I tried to find something mindless, searching for a calming voice talking about anything that could help me relax. But every single recent podcast was about the coronavirus. None of these would help me sleep.
By spring term, freshmen at Dartmouth have usually nestled into their favorite study spaces and figured out their preferred methods of learning. But now, with the ambiance of the Tower Room and the bustling traffic on Blobby farther away than most of us would like, many Dartmouth students have had to adjust to learning at home.
April in Hanover brings bird songs and flower buds and 50-degree days that feel like summer. Students shed coats and swarm the Collis porch, treading through puddles of melted snow to get to class. But this month, thousands of feet won’t churn the paths of the Green to mud. Instead, most of us are hundreds or thousands of miles from campus, learning how to do Dartmouth from home.
For Dartmouth students lucky enough to not have pressing safety and financial concerns, the COVID-19 pandemic has led to an unexpected surplus of free time spent at home. Many students are filling the newfound time with hobbies both old and new.
This week’s issue of Mirror came together a bit differently than usual. Production is not happening on the second floor of Robinson Hall. We are not sitting at our desks, listening to the buzzing energy of Dartmouth’s campus seep through the windows of Robo. Instead, this issue has come to fruition through Zoom meetings, phone interviews and writers and editors typing away from different areas of the world (most likely in their pajamas). We are living in a new reality brought about by COVID-19. Uncertainty lingers in many aspects of our lives — how will this end? When will it end? What will the world look like when the coronavirus is finally contained? What will our lives look like? As 20S begins, Dartmouth students — and all students — must tackle the additional challenge of taking classes during this chaotic time. Although we have little control over the spread of this virus, we can choose how we approach moving forward. That is why we, at Mirror, titled this issue “New Beginnings.” This term will be a difficult one for all of us — students, faculty and family. But with a new reality comes a new opportunity, and it’s up to us to decide how we will make the most of our time spent apart.
People have always used humor as a response to current events, no matter how serious, and Dartmouth students' reactions to COVID-19 have been no different. Dartmouth's meme page, currently titled "Dartmouth Memes for Cold AF Teens," is chock-full of memes about the coronavirus and its effects on the student body.
If there’s one thing that this coronavirus situation has made me think about, it’s how much space I take up, both on Dartmouth’s physical campus and in the community.
In the two weeks between Dartmouth’s finals period and the start of spring term, college life as we knew it came to a halt. On March 12, undergraduate students received an email announcing that the first half of spring term would be online. While some students held onto the hope that they would be reunited with their peers halfway through spring term, students quickly received another email on March 17 confirming that the entirety of spring term would be conducted remotely.
It’s a tumultuous time for the world as the COVID-19 pandemic upends the “normal” that we once knew. The shift to remote learning is challenging for both educators and students as both parties navigate new technologies and teaching and learning methods. I had the chance to speak with Thayer School of Engineering professor Eugene Korsunskiy about the unique transition that he and other professors must make for classes that rely heavily on in-person, hands-on collaboration. Korsunskiy teaches ENGS 12, “Design Thinking” and ENGS 15, “Senior Design Challenge,” both of which have never before been taught remotely.
According to data from the Drug Enforcement Administration, Dartmouth-Hitchcock Pharmacy in Lebanon distributed 5,146,260 opioid pills between 2006 to 2014, making it the pharmacy which dispensed the most opioids in Grafton County. While the number of pills is not irregular considering the size of the population the pharmacy serves, the data illustrates the opioid epidemic in the Upper Valley and New Hampshire, which is changing with a rise in fentanyl use despite the best efforts of local organizations to combat the problem.
Law and Order. Beyond being the title of a popular TV series — we know the familiar “dun dun” just played in your head — the concept is present in many facets of our daily lives. However, it is also subjective; each society has its own set of rules and regulations on par with its norms and expectations. We often believe that laws reflect what’s right and wrong — but with the variable constructions of what is good or bad, it may not be so black and white. In some countries, corporal punishment is a practical parenting method; in others, it is child abuse and illegal. In some parts of the world, marijuana can be bought and sold legally; in others, its possession can be punishable by death. In this week’s edition of the Mirror, we look at issues related to law and order. We investigate the opioid crisis in New Hampshire; we hear from the director of the Global Health Initiative Program at Dartmouth about the implications of coronovirus; and we ask our writers about their views on matters related to the law.
What does justice mean to you?
The insanity of writing a reflection piece about being a tour guide is not lost on me. I truthfully cannot believe that, of all things eligible for reflection and thought, being a tour guide is what I chose. Maybe it is because being a tour guide trainer the past two years has dominated so much of my time that a part of my brain has been conditioned to think about guide-related things at all times. Or maybe it’s because, as a senior, it’s time for me to admit that being a tour guide has become an integral part of my Dartmouth identity.