For the last two years, in-person events have been infrequent – almost entirely absent – from my schedule. Last week, I had the opportunity to attend two in-person events. The first was a panel discussion with international students on a Saturday afternoon and the other was the presentation of this year‘s President’s Distinguished Teaching Award. Both were incredibly bucket-filling. After nearly two years of working from my basement and attending back-to-back-to-back-to-back Zoom and Teams meetings, actually being in person reminded me why I love my career so much.
The events also helped me better understand why I have felt so tired and so brittle for so long.
The little things that happen at in-person meetings, like the short conversations before and after the meetings or as you walk to them, always seemed mere corollaries to the tasks at hand. But what I’ve realized after two years of Zoom meetings, is that some of the most critical aspects of our communications with one another happen in spaces that do not exist in a world of Zoom meetings. Little incidental conversations, knowing glances, signaling that we do when we take a breath to say something, and so many other things are lost when we are not physically present with one another.
Like all of you, I’ve had my hopes shattered and my optimism dulled too many times during the pandemic. The arrival of a new variant, the too-slow rollout of a new wave of vaccinations, or the tenacious resistance of some people to being vaccinated or properly wearing a mask feel like crushing setbacks. So, I’m very hesitant to express notes of optimism here.
In place of unbridled optimism about the future, I have adopted a tendency to see the incredible gains we have made in the last twelve months. A year ago, my children were still learning remotely, sharing that chilly cold basement space with me. Now they are vaccinated and back in class. A year ago, we were planning for outdoor, masked graduations, and now we intend to gather indoors in May to celebrate our graduates. A year ago, we were just starting to have access to vaccines. Now you can walk into any number of pharmacies or healthcare providers and be vaccinated. A year ago, the death rate was far greater for those unlucky enough to contract COVID-19 than it is today.
A lot changed in a year. So instead of looking forward, I’m looking around myself and realizing that, even though I’m tired and bruised, I’m in a much better place than I was a year ago. So, with last week’s reminders of the joy of togetherness, I’m looking forward to being back together with all of you again. I’m looking forward to those knowing glances and incidental conversations. I’m looking forward to having to learn how to “human” again.
Feedback and suggestions, especially from the MSU community, welcome at largent@msu.edu.
