Article By: an anonymous DSJ staff writer
Photo By: Zach Lutzky
It’s 3:46 a.m. and I have not slept since around 1:30 a.m. the night (morning?) before. This is not me glorifying lack of sleep because I’m a stressed college student with too many deadlines. I am that, but I’m also a young adult who is living through a once-in-a-lifetime pandemic. In all of my time at William & Mary, not once have I had to pull an all-nighter to finish an assignment. This might make me a rare exception, but I’ve always prioritized my sleep. That’s not to say I haven’t stressed out about deadlines because, oh boy, have I ever. But it’s never gotten to the point where I’m so stressed about almost every single aspect of my life and the world around me that I physically cannot fall asleep even though all of my assignments for the next day are complete. There’s a weight on my chest that I can’t ignore, and it becomes heavier and heavier and more apparent each day.
We’re halfway through the semester. In a normal semester, this is a stressful time for most. In this compressed semester, this is academic and mental health hell. Every single day, I’m greeted with a new wave of anxiety. My internet isn’t working well enough at home to hear what my professors are saying in my Zoom class. I’m in multiple extracurriculars where students are so stressed out that we’ve barely had any activities, and some members haven’t checked in since the second week of school. I’m caught in a relentless cycle of readings and discussion posts for my remote asynchronous class. As soon as you make it through all the work for the week, it resets. In another course, there are three extra papers that are meant to account for the one class we’ve allegedly missed. I have three assignments for three different classes, all due on Saturday for multiple weeks. I have three-hour-long Zoom classes on select Sundays for a program I was once promised travel funding. There is no Fall Break. There is no day off of any kind. I’m only taking 13 credits this semester—three of which are completely self-guided for my senior thesis—yet I’m drowning in deadlines for assignments that just feel like busy work. That’s not even taking into account the world at large.
The police officer who killed George Floyd was just released from prison on a $1,000,000 bail. The president is spreading false information. He claims he won’t commit to a peaceful transition of power if he loses the election, which sounds like a dictatorship. He recently got sick. Over two dozen others in the White House are sick, and yet he still denies that COVID-19 is any worse than the flu. There’s an outbreak of COVID-19 among student-athletes on campus. So far, a dozen have tested positive. Unless students were in close contact with others who were positive, they’re still expected to go to class even though the CDC advises that all who have potentially been exposed should quarantine for two weeks. It was “mutually agreed” upon that the athletic director should resign. Yet, there still seems to be no hope for the seven sports teams that were cut.
This all happened in less than a week—just one week out of the many other stressful weeks of this semester. Yet I’m still expected to fully participate in all of my classes like everything is fine and complete all of my assignments to the same exemplary standard as in the past? It’s no surprise we’re all feeling burned out.
The administration claims they have the students’ best interests at heart. In the initial COVID-19 training videos, they advised us to reach out to professors when we’re struggling. But the truth is that professors are struggling, too. I admire their resolve to learn new methods of teaching in line with health guidelines. I admire the rare moments when they take a break from lectures and remind us to take care of ourselves or rant about the sheer number of emails and Zoom meetings they’re expected to respond to or participate in. One of my professors told our class that he receives one or two emails from students daily apologizing for missed deadlines or asking for extensions because there is too much going on. They’re forced to find the balance between students’ stress capacities and the administration’s pressures that they must fit in the same amount of learning into a shorter time span. Believe it or not, they also have a life of their own that they’re trying to navigate on top of all this.
I cannot speak for everyone’s individual situations. I have not even touched upon the stressors happening in my personal life on top of academic and political stressors. The main point is this: this compressed semester is not sustainable for anyone. Students and professors shouldn’t be expected to operate at the same mental function as normal when our college, country, and world are spiraling out of control and individuals’ mental health is continuing to deteriorate. Some of us have been at home almost ceaselessly for seven months now. Our country is in an economic repression. We are in a literal pandemic.
In the initial COVID-19 training videos, they advised us to reach out. Consider this my outreach. I can assure you that no student or staff member is actually doing fine right now—and if we want anything to be better next semester, we need to express that. It’s time we actually treat students and staff like humans who experience stress, anxiety, and fear in incredibly uncertain times and ease up on them instead of pushing them to their breaking point.
*Note: The article was republished due to website maintenance and grammatical issues. The original publication date is October 10th, 2020.
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