By Annette Finley-Croswhite
Students and faculty are struggling. No matter what good front we put on, the truth is that none of us have ever experienced anything like "sheltering in place" because of a pandemic. Last week it really started to get to me: the heaviness of the air inside my house, having to give up my home office to a guest sheltering with us, worries about my elderly mother I must protect by not visiting. And in the midst of going online, my publisher sent me the proof-pages for my new book with a 10-day turnaround time. Then I learned that a friend, co-author and medical researcher in Paris had died of complications from coronavirus. Living inside a pandemic is overwhelming. Just today a colleague told me that she feels isolated and depressed, another distrusts Zoom, and still another explains he is getting no research done and wonders about the impact on his career.
In the same context I am aware of student challenges. One of my students is worried sick about a sibling on the USS Theodore Roosevelt; another has taken over childcare duties for his sibling so that she can go to work. One student is anxious about contracting COVID-19 to the point where feelings of helplessness overwhelm any ability to concentrate. Another student is involved in residence life and still working at Â鶹¹ú²úAV but in an isolated environment that generates feelings of loneliness. One student I know lost her job and wonders how she will pay her rent. Many have lost future opportunities. My own son was a finalist for two extraordinary summer internships, but in the end those positions were canceled, as was his study abroad. He wonders how those lost opportunities will affect him in the competitive job market after his graduation next year. My son attends a different university, but doubtless many of our own students share similar disappointments. And nothing can compare to the food scarcity and housing issues that many of our students may now face, those we haven't heard from and can't find.
At the Center for Faculty Development we encourage faculty to be mindful of the anxiety that COVID-19 has produced in numerous scenarios for ourselves and our students. We'd like to promote a culture of empathy at Â鶹¹ú²úAV as a part of our pandemic response. It takes tremendous work to move from sympathy to empathy. As humans we are often empathetic with those like us and those we love. But in today's crisis, empathy is needed for almost everyone we encounter, colleagues and students alike. Perhaps it's just a matter of reaching out more often to check in on colleagues via telephone or text or staying connected with students in more time-consuming ways than we might have done before. But what is clear is that social distancing, while necessary, is burdensome. One way to combat its ill effects is with a humanistic turn, evoking kindness and attention to the pain many feel — in this case, a form of institutional self-care. Such a pandemic response in the long run might even lead to a new dignity of purpose throughout our university built on an infrastructure of academic empathy.
Academic environments are inherently competitive. While the acquisition of knowledge may be a noble pursuit, academia is rigidly hierarchical and the pressures to publish or succeed can foster individual jealousies and inevitable comparisons between faculty and between students. Now is not the time to compete, however, but rather to care. We advocate for an empathetic response to sheltering in place during the COVID-19 pandemic that benefits everyone in the Â鶹¹ú²úAV community.