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December 2020

 This month, we asked out writers to write about their abbreviated fall semester

The Unlikely, Unexpected, & Wonderful

McKenna Snow
Class of 2024

Not only was fall of 2020 my first semester ever at college, it was a semester unlike any the world had ever seen. I dove headfirst into an accelerated semester comprised of in-person and zoom classes, complicated daily schedules, a six-hundred-mile distance from my family who lives in Kentucky—and all taking place in an atmosphere of optimism and resilience amidst a pandemic. Who would have thought that my first semester of college would have all those elements at once? I certainly would not have guessed that. But nonetheless, though it was a semester like no other, I loved it.

There were so many good things about this semester for me. The ability to go to the nightly adoration that is offered on campus was indescribably powerful. Adoration—time spent in silence with the Lord to reflect and pray—was such a place of comfort for me all semester. And the friends I made through my classes, roommates, and campus ministry are some pretty amazing people. I am already looking forward to spending the spring semester with them.

The pandemic did pose tests to keeping the doors of the Mount open for sixteen weeks straight. Like the faculty and staff, the students took on unprecedented responsibilities to make it work; for us this meant limited gatherings, less in-person lectures, and learning material at a rapid rate because of the accelerated semester. No fall break, either—just full-speed ahead for sixteen weeks straight. If anyone ever wanted to cultivate the virtues of perseverance and determination, this semester at the Mount was the place to go about it. Our resilient community worked hard to maintain the normalcy of higher education as best we could. This upkeep gave freshman like me the ability to not miss out on studying the liberal arts the way they were meant to be studied: in person, on campus. And sure, we did have to zoom in to study them sometimes—but I will take half-on-zoom and half-in-person over all-online, any day of the week.

Personally, I learn better in a classroom setting, with real human beings in front of me. I had wanted to go to college, live on campus, make friends and get as much out of my classes as possible. Even though many elements that typically comprise a "normal freshman experience" were atypical, the Mount’s efforts to make this semester as normal as possible were deeply appreciated. I also liked that because the lectures were recorded for zoom, I could go back and watch them to study better. The hybrid learning experience had some unexpectedly nifty elements.

The restriction of close-contact sports actually presented unlikely opportunities for me to discover new hobbies. Would I have signed up to play intramural badminton if it had been a "normal semester"? Probably not. I would have signed up to play intramural soccer instead. But because badminton was the option presented to me when soccer couldn’t be, I chose to just go for it as something fun to try. Even though I hadn’t played since I was about eight years old, playing intramural badminton with my friends was so much fun. It was a lighthearted sport, and created friendly competition that I thrived on. I plan on making it a regular hobby for my roommates and me next semester.

I also spent a lot of time outside this semester, given the limited options for indoor gatherings and activities. My friends and I loved going on walks, hiking, and visiting the grotto that’s connected to the Mount. My roommates and I also joined the astronomy club on campus, got to stargaze, and study the moon together using some spectacular telescopes. What better ways to cultivate friendship, curiosity, and philosophical and theological conversation, than by experiencing the wonders of God’s creation together? Next semester, I will definitely be spending a lot of time out and about the beautiful outdoors of the Mount campus with my friends again. The pandemic’s challenges drew me outdoors much more than I anticipated this semester and I am grateful for it.

At one point in the semester, there was a necessary restriction on mobility on campus that required my roommates and I to remain in our dorm for four days. Initially we were frustrated; who likes being told to stay indoors for any extended amount of time? But we quickly realized we shouldn’t spend our time together steeping in negativity. Within the first day of the restriction, we elected to make the most of the extended time we were having to spend together. We seized it as an opportunity to deep-clean the dorm, to study more intensely, get more homework done than usual, and then reward ourselves with fun movie nights. We played games, had meals together, and listened to music together. On the last night of the restriction, the four of us even threw a little Christmas decorating party for ourselves; we cut paper snowflakes together, put up white Christmas lights we had been saving, and listened to Christmas music. Usually, I think Christmas music should be played after Thanksgiving—but given our circumstances, we made an exception and, of course, sang along to every word of "All I Want For Christmas is You" by Mariah Carrey. I honestly had a lot of fun despite the situation; we really made the most of it.

This is why I refuse to be ungrateful or complaintive of this unusual first semester. I want to look back and focus on what was good about this semester. How could I let negativity overpower these happy memories and friendships that were made? I learned so much and made so many wonderful friends. I deepened my relationship with Jesus through the sacraments available on campus, and through trusting in Him amidst all struggles. He drew me to pursue virtue when I didn’t always want to, and I am so glad of that. From this semester I know and understand these things all the more fully: Joy is a choice. Perseverance is a choice. Now, more than ever, these virtues cannot be thrown out the window just because times are frustrating. Actively choosing joy over negativity can bring about some of the best memories and friendships one could ever know, even in the most atypical of situations—or in my case, even the most atypical of semesters.

Read other articles by McKenna Snow

Learning Experience

Emmy Jansen
Class of 2023

I started off 2020 sitting in my parent’s basement counting down the seconds to the New Year at a Roaring Twenties themed party. There were no masks in sight, except for those that came in costume. There were at least twenty people in the room, which is not a capacity level that has been reached since. We were laughing. We were shaking hands. We were hugging each other.

A few weeks later, I came back to school. The words COVID-19 had never crossed my mind. I went to classes, in person and barefaced, as per the norm up until this year. It was over Spring Break, the beginning of March, that I started hearing about the virus. It was described as a global pandemic, but I still hadn’t seen it. I traveled up and down the East Coast, enjoying my week away from classes and responsibilities. It started popping up where I went, first in Massachusetts and then in Maryland. As we drove back to Emmitsburg, colleges across the country were telling students to leave for spring break and not come back. Two days after we returned, the Mount made a similar statement; we had until the weekend to get out.

My last memory of normalcy at the Mount was a basketball game. I was wearing a Hawaiian button-up with palm trees over the team shirt. We had filled the fan section, squished together to fit all our friends. I don’t remember if we won or lost the game, but I remember my friend and I hugging.

It hasn’t felt quite the same since then. It’s the same Mount St. Mary’s that I got accepted into roughly two years ago. It’s the same buildings with the same people, albeit some are Zooming in from their homes and dorms. It’s the same sense of peace that you get from driving up Route 15 and suddenly Mary appears from between the trees. But so much has changed and it’s too much to even categorize.

I have had a cotton swab shoved up my nose five times, which is a sentence I never thought I’d write. The only place I can be barefaced and not nervous about it is in my dorm room, the place where I do everything now. I don’t remember what a full classroom looks like. There are no dances or parties or big events on campus. We can’t even do service trips, at a time when they’re probably needed most.

Education itself has been affected. There is not a single person who will tell you that Zoom or hybrid learning is the same education as in-person pre-COVID-19. The attitude about learning has changed fundamentally and I’m very worried that it won’t shift back. With the ease of online learning, the ‘learning’ side of it has been lost. It isn’t about retention, it’s about completion. Out of fear of being too harsh in a time where people are struggling with the pandemic in their own ways, schools everywhere have been too lax with the structure of education in the latter half of 2020. I have at least one in-person class a day and I don’t feel like I’m learning anything; I can’t imagine what students who are one-hundred-percent remote feel like. Online learning is not the solution to the long-term problem COVID-19 might present. The job of educators everywhere will be to find a way to bring learning back to the forefront of education, especially in university settings. I think that is what has marked this semester the most and everyone has felt the effects of this. Students aren’t engaged in the classroom, even when they’re in person, and teachers are not seeing the fruits of their works in their pupil’s minds. This is discouraging and exhausting for everyone: Why teach if they won’t learn? Why learn if they won’t teach?

I don’t know what the solution is. The pandemic surges on and we’re threatened with more closures and a revamp of safety measures. I will socially distance. I will wear a mask. I will go another semester with no break, although I won’t do it without complaining. I will have cotton swabs shoved up my nose, over and over again, until this thing is over. I miss the normalcy, but most of all, I miss college. I miss talking to professors after class when the discussion was so good that it spills over into office hours and café meetings. I miss genuine class discourse, where everyone is in the room and no one is a black screen in the back of the class. I miss talking to my friends about what I’m reading about in textbooks and expanding my knowledge of other disciplines. We’ve waxed poetic about the social and mental implications of the pandemic, but I worry about the educational and institutional ones. There is only so much control we let the pandemic have over us before we decide that there are things in life that we aren’t willing to sacrifice. For me, education is one of them.

I’m greatly looking forward to next semester. After grappling with pandemic precautions and the potential for closure for the past four months, the university is prepared to deal with any rise in cases and more intense regulations. With our minds finally at ease in that area, we can turn our focus to other aspects of the pandemic. The goal of the fall semester was to survive; I would like to see the spring semester focused on how we can thrive. As a community, we have persevered through overwhelming odds as schools around us went remote. If any institution can restore the fundamentals of education, it’s this one.

Next semester will look very similar to this one: tables spaced apart in the dining hall, classes half full and half empty, and faces covered in cloth and surgical masks. As the winter months set in, the campus is uncomfortably quiet with everyone tucked away in their dorms. I hope the mountain doesn’t get too lonely without students for the next two months; I hope students don’t get too lonely away from the mountain. And I hope, someday in the not-too-distant future, we can start hugging again.

Read other articles by Emmy Jansen

Such are the times

Harry Scherer
Class of 2022

This semester was one for the books. Some were in the classroom; others surveyed those in the classroom from their dorms. There were almost no booths in Patriot. Everyone wore masks. There was no delightfully restful fall break in the calendar. But we made it.

When I and all of my classmates were sent home in March of this year, the slightly liberal prediction was that we would return after Easter instead of the two weeks suggested by the university. Of course, now we know that even the liberal view was far too conservative. When we spent the rest of the semester off-campus, we waited with expectation to return to Mary’s Mountain. Few people, including faculty and administrators, thought we would not make it to the end of the semester on campus. But we made it.

How did we make it? It would be irresponsible to not admit the two reasons for the success: prayer and cooperation. In the first place, the Mount would not be who she is today without the innumerable graces pouring down through our Blessed Mother from the Grotto, seminary and the faithful students, faculty, administration and staff at the university. The Mount is a unique place in the encyclopedia of American Catholic history not only because of her saintly history but because of all those who have continued to stay faithful throughout the centuries. Indeed, the spiritual reasons for the university’s success this fall should not be overlooked by anyone who has eyes to see, especially if we want to try to do the same thing in the spring.

The secondary reason for the Mount’s successful in-person semester is the cooperation among the students, faculty, administration and staff. All four of these groups proved that they had skin in the game by their unexpected willingness to overlook their own metrics of success and join in a common mission. While varying opinions were certainly offered in appropriate fora throughout the semester, everyone was ready to admit that they knew little about how the semester would look but would be willing to do whatever it took to stay on campus for the duration of the semester.

Next semester, I anticipate that everyone on campus will work with the same zeal to stay on campus. The hard work that took place in the fall will certainly provide benefits for the spring. In the first place, we now know what works to enjoy an in-person semester with the strange external circumstances. Many of the questions that started the fall semester have already been answered and that knowledge will prove to be invaluable for the spring. Secondly, we are going to be strengthened by the assurance that we can fulfill the necessary requirements to stay on campus because we already fulfilled them in the fall with only a few challenges.

I anticipate that the two-month break will also be an asset in preparing us for the semester ahead. Hopefully, this time of rest will provide administrators, faculty and students the opportunity to reflect on two things. First, we can reflect on what they would have changed about the fall semester if we had the current knowledge that developed over the course of the three months. These considerations will hopefully allow every person in the Mount community to alter that which demands alteration for the spring. Second, we can spend time in gratitude for the ability to stay on campus in the fall. Because of the unlikelihood of our success, we should generously embrace this break as a time to be grateful for the past, present and opportunities that will present themselves in the future.

Hopefully, after and while resting in this gratitude, we can be impelled to action as a result of this rest. We are given a time in these next two months to read, write, socialize and sleep so that we can primarily enjoy them for their own sakes and secondarily use them as a springboard for more scheduled and intense action in the spring. Throughout the month of November in Emmitsburg, every person to whom I talked about the subject was insistent, consistent and persistent in voicing his desire for a break. The spring semester will probably be very similar because we will miss our spring break and will be in the position of having to steamroll through the semester. While this method might reduce the number of trips throughout the semester, it still requires an immense amount of work to stay energized through the end of the term.

What might help students keep the faith throughout the term is a slight change in tone from the fall term. Because the societal shock of everything that occurred after March was just starting to wear off as the fall semester started, everyone was still accustomed to identifying the times as "unprecedented" or "strange." While these observations might be true, a regular reminder of this truth is not particularly inspiring when we have to do the work that we have been assigned to complete. What does not lack precedent is our classwork, the obligations that we have to our families and friends, our extracurricular activities and the typical thoughts and cares that go along with college life. My peers and I are keenly aware that there are parts of our current times that lack precedent; a regular reminder of this fact does not need to be provided.

This past fall semester reminds me of a line out of Augustine: "Bad times, hard times, this is what people keep saying; but let us live well, and times shall be good. We are the times: Such as we are, such are the times." This fall, we lived well and the times were good. It is my prayer that we take the time that we have been given for the next few months to reflect on these good times and hope to replicate and multiply them in the spring.

Read other articles by Harry Scherer

Sameness

Angela Guiao
Class of 2021

I’ve been a student at Mount St. Mary’s for almost five years, and I must say, I’ve gone through so much here. I lived with my first ever roommates on the top floor of Sheridan as a Freshman. I’ve changed majors from pre-med to accounting. I was here before the PAC and when there was still a hole in the AC. I was here when Donald Trump won presidency in 2016, and here again when he lost in 2020. I remember driving up to campus my second year in my first car and remember working at the Arc when it wasn’t under construction. I’ve enjoyed my fair share of tiki nights and homecomings. And I remember how much I missed the Mount when I had to take a semester off. But out of all the great and unique experiences I’ve had, I must say this pandemic is one of the most memorable.

When we were sent home early in March, it didn’t seem real. It was almost as if I were living in a fairy tale. Suddenly, I was in the comfort of my own home, enjoying the company of my family and taste of homecooked meals. I got the much-needed rest that eluded me when class was on campus, and I saved two hours each day from my grueling commute. When the semester ended, there was still an air of intrigue. No one was sure what was going to happen next. It was exciting in a way, not knowing what to expect. But quickly that excitement turned to despair.

The daily reports of people dying became the norm. And I started to become stir crazy from being stuck in the house all day. Although half of the previous semester was virtual, I still had trouble adjusting come August. It became harder to focus and harder to juggle all the things that needed to be done and honestly, I don’t know how the articulate exactly why. Everything just ended up harder to do. Perhaps it was the hour after hour of being stuck in front of the screen. Or maybe my mind was falling asleep after being stuck in the same position all day. Whatever the reason was, I had trouble getting things done. And being at home, with all my home-responsibilities made it so much harder for me to devote the time and preparation I needed for school.

The results of the pandemic hit close to home. My family was gravely affected. We had to sell our house and find a new place to stay. I was juggling homework in between meetings with the realtor. Exams between open houses. I searched for new places during my breaks at my internship. And I had to constantly budget to make sure we didn’t run out of money. Sometimes I think that if I were on campus, it wouldn’t be me who had to do these things. But then I think, if I didn’t, who would? So now, I think of it as a blessing. At least I was able to help out.

Although, I do hope things change next semester. It is my final semester here at the Mount, and I don’t really want to enjoy it virtually. I heard things are getting worse, and that the number of corona cases are getting higher, so things aren’t looking too good. Last year, the students were able to walk the stage, albeit with a much smaller audience and masks covering their face. But at least they were able to walk. I hope I get to walk next year. My degree has been 5 years in the making, and I am so ready to graduate.

I don’t know if what I’m feeling is a bout of senioritis or I am just getting burnt out, but I do think I need to be much more organized next semester, especially with the classes I am taking. Everyone says not to fill your last semester with difficult classes, but with my unexpected major change I am left with intermediate accounting and economics: definitely not some of the easier classes. I like seeing the things I need to have done, so I think I am going to invest in a large erase board and write all the upcoming assignments that need to be done for that week on it. I think I am going to put it downstairs, away from my desk. That way I am forced to take breaks and walk.

I also think I should establish a routine, though it sounds kind of silly since I don’t really need to leave my desk. But I think assigning a time for snacks or lunch will help with the sameness I feel. At least there is something to look forward to. I also think setting a daily goal with help. I am not sure what exactly the goals will be, but I think I am going to stay away from school or work-related ones for now. Hopefully the rigorous curriculum that my classes will have this semester will be enough to keep me on my toes.

Thinking back on it, I realize that this is probably one of the most unique experiences I will have in my life. I am living through a pandemic. It’s gotten so bad that schools, stores, and services have shut down and people are afraid to leave their houses. While it has changed the school experience and work experience for me, I do believe we have opened a wide door of opportunities to improve the future. Despite the sameness, I must say, I didn’t have as much trouble with technology as I thought I would. And it has opened me up to the possibility of remote work and living. It does seem tiring and boring to continuously do work from the comfort of your home, however, it will not nearly be as monotonous if we could do work from anywhere in the world. This is just the beginning, I think. And though this semester didn’t go as I expected, I do see the possibilities for the future.

Read other articles by Angela Guiao

Read Past Editions of Four Years at the Mount