By EMMA SPORLEDER
Wednesday, March 25, 2020, 11:14 a.m.
This date isn’t important unless you attend Northwestern Oklahoma State University, like me.
Hi! My name is Emma Sporleder, and lately, my life has been pretty weird.
It all started at the Huanan seafood market in Wuhan, China. I wasn’t there, but apparently there was something to do with a bat that resulted in 3.17 million people contracting some virus that we don’t have a vaccination for yet. But that’s too complicated of a story, so we’ll just focus on yours truly.
I woke up around 9 a.m. that Wednesday morning and decided to laze around. I made some coffee and sat with my dog, Boogie, on the front porch, watching people drive by as they went on their way to work.
Unfortunately, in two short hours and some minutes later, my college education would be flipped on its head.
I jumped as the notification sound from my phone alerted me that I had received an email:
“Dear Faculty, Staff and Students,
“In response to Governor Stitt’s address yesterday, Northwestern will take further steps to ensure the safety of our campus community. Moving forward, all coursework will continue using alternative instructional delivery methods to complete the spring 2020 semester. I feel confident that we will continue to have a successful semester in spite of these circumstances.”
I felt a multitude of emotions after finishing reading the email, but honestly Dr. Cunningham’s email shook me to the core that day. I knew that people were sick, but at the time I didn’t realize that this virus was turning into an epidemic. I didn’t realize that we were living through history. I didn’t realize that Wednesday, March 25, was the beginning of unprecedented times.
I had heard about the virus, but I guess I never understood the magnitude of it all. And truthfully, maybe I still don’t. Maybe I won’t for years to come.
I realize how it has affected the world population, but it hasn’t affected me personally – yet. I think that’s the scariest part about this epidemic. One day, you don’t know anybody with the virus, and then three days later, one of your friends, coworkers or family members is dead because of it.
No, I haven’t gotten sick, but that’s not to say I don’t have anything to worry about. I worry when I touch sanitized shopping cart handles. I worry when I itch my eyes. I worry that if I cough to clear my throat I might be asked to vacate the premises.
But after all the worrying comes quarantine. Quarantine, quarantine, quarantine. Where do I begin?
At first you were a fun little experiment. I had never experienced a quarantine before, so I thought I would give you a chance. You’re telling me that I don’t have to attend class on campus anymore? I don’t have to come into the office for my job? This is great! And it was … for the first week, at least.
Since then, the days have started to meld together. Months either stretch on and on or they’re over with a snap of a finger. It’s not as fun anymore. I want to get back to normal.
But what is normal anymore? This whole ordeal is historic, and we can’t go back to whatever our normal was after this. We have to make a new normal, right? One where we take care of each other despite our differences. I used to hate receiving emails from the university. Usually, an email signified a grade I was nervous to look at or a professor announcing additional coursework. But once this whole coronavirus is over, I think just might appreciate them a little more.
Hopefully the next email I get will include an unimportant date. It will be just any other day for most people, but for me and the other students at Northwestern, it will be a day when we are able to see our friends again.
A day when we can actually be on campus and continue learning about our passions. That unimportant day will let us get back to normal, whatever that may be now.