A Letter for the Dreamers: What Our Final Semester Could Have Been
The House of Bonhoeffer at the 2019 Opening Lecture. | Photo Edit Courtesy of Daniel Fuenzalida
The opinions reflected in this OpEd are those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the opinions of staff, faculty and students of The King's College.
Whether you were a debater, performed on the stage, were a student athlete, part of an art guild, a film club, etc., there was always a “last showcase,” a “last tournament,” a “last rehearsal,” or a “final performance.” As a senior in college graduating amid a global pandemic, I missed my “last” everything.
But what if I didn’t miss everything? What if there were no COVID-19 restrictions?
For a moment, imagine that the U.S. followed a modified Sweden-strategy. Sweden has not closed its K-12 schools, its non-essential businesses, any of its restaurants, and it hasn’t highly restricted travel. Although Sweden is taking precautions, the bulk of their economy has remained open unlike the U.S.. What if America followed this example?
Maybe my spring semester, and other seniors’ semesters around the world, would have looked more like this:
Quarantine and the closure of most of the American economy, which happened to be implemented on my birthday, March 13, would have never happened. Instead, the U.S. would have only declared a national emergency and all Americans would have been required to wear a mask and gloves everywhere, except for within one’s personal home. Personal Protective Equipment would be required even in the workplace. Industry and business that could not accommodate this requirement would need to halt or receive special permission from the government to continue running, in the name of public health.
Collegiate and professional sports might still stop if there was no way for athletes to play with gloves and some type of surgical-grade mask. Maybe, we would have still made our March Madness Brackets and watched the NBA regular season; the Boston Marathon might still be held; maybe FIFA would have continued its World Cup qualifiers. Some rules and adjustments would be necessary: the personal protective equipment would be taped down to the athletes faces and hands. Any sign of wear or tear would halt the game and the player would need to acquire new gear before returning. Fiery athletes that attempt to disrupt another player’s mask or gloves for a slight advantage would get immediately ejected in order to keep the other players, referees and fans safe.
Our college classes would have continued, and all students, faculty and staff would have worn masks and gloves in the classroom. Yes, it would make it a challenge to have class discussions and even take notes, but we would learn to adapt to the new scenario as we have learned to adapt to our life in quarantine today. Eating and drinking in public would be annoying—the water fountain in the fishbowl would likely be prohibited so that no one would be tempted to take off their masks.
Our work life would have continued too. The jobs we held might not be shut down for the most part. Some lines of work like babysitting and restaurant jobs would continue depending on the employer’s preference. If staying open was financially sustainable, then most businesses would keep running.
Our job and career search would have continued, and we would have adjusted to in-person interviews with a mask on. Polite bows and elbow touches with future employers would quickly become canon, replacing handshakes. The facial expressions that convey trust, sympathy, understanding, and communication would rest largely on what we could discern between squints and eyebrow raises. The challenging job climate that we are entering now would not be nearly as bad—rather, companies would still hire and seek new workers to bring onto their teams. Many of us might even keep the internships or jobs that we had lined up before today’s economic shutdown.
Interregnum would have been held in-person and everyone would have worn a mask. Opening Lecture might have been hard to hear, but it would have been in person with all our friends. Prepared lecture would have been muffled, but laughable—maybe the mask would even add a comedic element. In parliamentary debate, speaker points might reach an all-time low. It would be exciting to see which of our peers could still win the crowd as they expounded on stage. We seniors would have experienced our last Interregnum together, in-person, rather than virtually. Before announcing the spring winners, the Interregnum Committee would make sure that we were all reminded not to take off or accidentally rip our own or each other’s masks and gloves in celebration. The muffled cheers would sound the church, and myself and other seniors alike, would revel in our last King’s Interregnum as a student. That same night, my House, Bonhoeffer, would have left for our spring retreat to Catskill Falls. We would have spent the weekend celebrating our third-place finish in the House Cup doing fun things in the countryside, masks on and gloved up.
Classes would have winded down and the end of the semester would near—we all would be so sick of wearing our personal protective equipment that we would question why we did not transition to an online semester. But end of year and senior festivities would begin, and light would shine at the end of the 4 year journey.
The 2019 – 2020 King’s Council would conduct our final council meeting, in person, and swear in each new house president. A few days later, I would have had my final athletics award dinner to celebrate my four years of soccer with my teammates. Bonhoeffer would have had our final “Family Dinner” and then the annual Coney Island Day Away—our very last event of the year. We would have played our yearly mini-golf tournament, gotten banana-pistachio soft-serve ice cream, and hand out our traditional Paper Plate Awards to each member of the house. Other houses would have conducted their yearly traditions and celebrated the seniors who are leaving while simultaneously trying to keep the tears off of their masks.
Finals would approach and Commencement events would begin. Instead of teachers celebrating students in each major over private zoom meetings, we would all head to the Student Union and share a glass of wine with our professors early in the week. Our Thursday Graduation rehearsal would be funny, exciting, and maybe awkward with our masks. Megan Dishman would try her best to teach us our positions and we would try our best to hear her through her mask.
That same night, our families might fly in to see us walk the stage on Saturday. They would bring their masks and gloves too, as well as some tissues for their tears. But before that, we would have our award ceremony on Friday. The senior class would attend, and we would celebrate our friends, our faculty, and our staff’s awards for their hard work throughout the year. The lucky ones would even get to receive their awards in person. We would get to hear an amazing, yet muffled speech, from none other than our favorite Jackson Fordyce as he delivered his senior speaker address with his mask on. We would celebrate that night and head to Stone Street for a reception. Our teachers would meet our parents and joke about the assignments we never turned in. We would laugh, smile through our face shield, and maybe even commit the Cardinal sin of drinking a beer through a straw in order to keep the mask on.
We’d fall asleep that night excited for the following morning. 4 Rutherford Place would gleam in the morning sunlight and we would be happy to arrive early with our cap and gowns, dressed to the nines. Though we would only see half of people’s faces, by that point, we would’ve learned a new skill in reading someone’s expressions only by their eyes—it would be clear that everyone was excited. As our names get called, our friends and family (and maybe even our professors) would let off a quick cheer. We’d walk across the stage, probably break the rules for the sake of a picture and shake President Gibson’s gloved up hand. He would tell each of us a hearty “well done,” and “congratulations.”
The walk back down the aisle to our seats would last forever and then be over in the blink of an eye.
I am excited for real-life–Saturday Graduation. Virtual Commencement will be a great way to send us off. While it’s not perfect nor ideal, we will endure. I look forward in anticipation to the make-up commencement that King’s has promised to provide. Something tells me it will be extra special and just as exciting as an in-person Commencement would have been this year. King’s has already provided an incredibly kind Virtual Yearbook where people can sign each other's profiles with pictures and thoughtful messages. They are doing what they can to ensure that we seniors receive a proper sendoff and I am grateful for their kindness and dedication.
If there is anything that King’s has taught me, it is how to dream big and wonder about the extraordinary. I hope that this dream resonates with you and pulls at your nostalgia the same way that it does for me. I love this city and I love this school. Four cheers for four amazing years.
In Him,
Daniel Fuenzalida