With the start of 2021, I was excited for the prospect of the vaccines that were starting to get rolled out. I knew at the beginning that I would be one of the firsts to get it because I was a teacher in Texas, where we had only had 3 weeks of online school, and the rest of the year had been in person. That high risk meant that by the end of January, the first week teachers were allowed to get the first shot, I signed up at the nearest hospital who had the Pfizer vaccine. The first one went without a hitch, with barely some soreness in my arm in the week following. It is the second shot that was a bit derailed. The week I was supposed to get my second shot, Texas was hit by one of the worst snow storms we have ever faced, and millions lost power. My apartment had rolling black outs the first day, and my apartment became colder and colder. My partner and I initially thought to stick it out, piling cover after cover of blankets and huddling close for warmth. Then, at 6PM that night, the power went out and never came back and we were driven into darkness and the cold seeped into our bones. We made the decision to suffer the cold, icy roads, and the long journey to my partner’s parents’ house, which had not lost power. We packed up the food in coolers, feeling for what may have spoiled during the blackouts, and feeling for what remained cold and frozen. We shoved as much as would fit and headed out. The drive is normally only 35 minutes, but with no snow tires and ice everywhere, we could not travel more than 30 miles an hour. As we reversed out of our spot, you could immediately feel the tires lose their traction and hear them spin loosely over the ice that had gathered under the truck. As we began our journey, the heater finally began blasting our faces with air that slowly began to warm up, and started the long process of thawing our frozen limbs. Two hours on this slow trek, constantly worried about sections of black ice, and losing control of tires, both ours and others, but we finally made it to their home. The first thing we noticed when we entered through their door was the strong smells of hot chocolate being prepared on the stove. The next day, when my appointment was set for the second dose of the vaccine, I called and asked if they were still giving the vaccine or if I should reschedule, and was told that I would lose my spot if I rescheduled because they only had so many doses at this time and did not want to have any go to waste. My partner’s parents decided to drive all of us to the hospital. Several times on this trip, we heard the squeal and slam of cars losing control of their cars and careening into one another. We all held our breaths at each close encounter, and did not realize until we reached the hospital how we had all clenched our bodies in tension. It was not until we pulled into the parking garage that I heard all of us let out a collective sigh of relief. I went in for my second shot as the family stayed on the first floor, waiting out of the cold but away from the mass of bodies huddling to be let into the hospital. Inside, I quickly walked down the hall, not wanting to make my partner and his family have to wait too long for me, and I was gently guided through the path by the volunteer staff. Because of the cold, I had worn three long sleeve layers, and found after much stretching that it was not possible for the nurse to get at my arm to receive the shot. Feeling the burn on my cheeks in embarrassment, as I had to publicly remove the top to layers, and pull my bottom shirt over my head. The cold of the room chilled my body, and I had to stop myself from shivering. With the second shot complete, and as I headed to the room to wait the required 20 minutes to make sure I did not have any immediate reaction to the shot, I was stopped dead in my tracks when I saw my partner and his family being ushered into the room. My partner was not yet eligible for the shot, and we both had had arguments with his parents about the shots, since they didn’t believe in needing them. I later found out that a nurse had been looking in the hospital lobby for anyone who hadn’t had their shots to come up because they had 5 extra shots that would be expiring if no one received them soon. Somehow, my partner in that split moment where they were being given this golden opportunity, shouted yes for all of them, and began shoving his parents down to the room before they could protest. Once we had all piled back into the truck after all four of us received our shots, we went home as quickly as we safely could. Though I had had no reaction to the first shot, this second dose threw me for a loop. That night, the chills began. Even as the house had its heat blasting on full, and I was sitting as close to the fireplace as I could safely sit, my teeth could be heard chattering across the living room. My head began pounding, and I fell into a deep sleep an hour later. Thankfully, the cold was gone from my body when I awoke the next morning, and two days later, the snow had melted enough, and our power was restored to return home. The pandemic has induced so much fear and anxiety in all of us over these last two years, have really made me so much more aware of those around me, but for me, when I think about the vaccines, and the reluctance of those who can receive them but don’t, I think about the treacherous journey I was forced to make to get mine. I think about the cold. I think about the squealing tires. I think about how terrible I felt after my second dose. And I also think about the relief at knowing that all of this awfulness led to my partner’s parents suddenly getting vaccinated. For that alone, I would experience the fear of the snowstorm once again.

When the pandemic began in earnest in March 2020, I was, like so many others, caught pretty unawares. I had heard in passing of the existence of the covid virus, but was pretty ignorant overall of the rapid spread and severity of it. I worked in a customer service job at the time, and as it happened, continued to do so through the rest of 2020, 2021, and now the beginning of 2022. While some businesses closed down in spring 2020, my workplace was considered to be essential, and so I continued to go to work everyday as if nothing had happened. Except it had, and would continue to do so, growing worse as time went on. I, always having been a bit of a homebody, immediately searched for ways to find regularity and comfort at home, where I spent all of my time that wasn't at work. I've always found the sense of smell to be very compelling, if only because so many memories can be associated with them. Getting that one whiff of a fried pastry in your own house, for example, might bring to mind that funnel cake you had at the amusement park as a kid. In spring 2020, I bought a selection of scented candles in a saga of online shopping, all of them based off some book or character from such. I've always taken comfort in my favorite books, movies, television shows, etc., and thought that extending that escapism in one more way might help me out as work became ever more stressful. I quickly discovered that this was very true, and started looking for and purchasing many more candles, a hobby that has continued to this day. I'm sure my bank account does not appreciate it, but my mental health does. I can still connect certain candle scents to days I felt particularly at peace at certain points throughout the last few years; a whiff of vanilla musk and rose wafting through the house, for example, reminds me of that day I had off in summer 2021 where I had new records to play, read a new book by my favorite author, and just enjoyed the day with my dog. It's hard for a lot of people, including myself, to find moments like that through the pandemic. My candles, and the ongoing memories and peace they bring to mind, have helped me find some semblance of happiness through the covid experience.

On March 12th, 2020, the Community College of Allegheny County emailed out a letter in response to the COVID - 19 global pandemic. The college had suspended credited classes for five days until faculty and administration had figured out how to stop the spread of COVID – 19 by having a smooth transition from in-person learning to online learning. I was aware that COVID - 19 was starting to become a large problem in the U.S. and other countries, but I did not think that we were at the magnitude that we would need to go online learning. Nonetheless, I was fine with it. I would rather be safe than sorry because I wasn’t sure of the seriousness of the virus and the online learning period was only supposed to last from March 18th to April 19th. And then on April 1st, 2020, the whole state of Pennsylvania had gone on lockdown for COVID – 19, I had then selfishly started to become worried about what the future would hold for me. I was in the last year of my two-year degree program and extremely excited that I was finally eligible to graduate and walk across the stage and graduate with my family cheering for me like every other graduating class before me. I figured there would have to be some type of celebration for the graduating class because, before the year 2020, I and many other students had never even imagined what alternate graduation would look like or how it would even work. I think I and any other student who was a part of the graduating class of 2020 in hindsight are glad that we didn’t have the traditional graduation because we did celebrate our achievements and kept our family and friends safe while doing it.

When COVID-19 first came to America I was employed as an assistant manager at a warehouse in northeast Wisconsin. Generally speaking, the city I live in is somewhat conservative and reserved. On a day-to-day basis, it is typically tolerable (despite my liberal and progressive philosophies) and the people are, on average, kind and helpful. However, as COVID infections increased and much of the proposed solutions to help curtail the spread were politicized, it became increasingly exhausting to exist around others with less-than-helpful and uncooperative attitudes. This was mentally draining, to say the least. On top of that, I was starting to work more and more as members of the staff were on a quarantine carousel. In a short amount of time, I began to routinely work 16 hours (or more) a day. Not only was I spent on an emotional and mental level, the nature of the work I was expected to do was leaving me physically beaten. As hard as I tried not to be too upset with those that had to stay home, I couldn't help but feel anger at those that weren't taking the pandemic seriously. I felt I was doing double-duty: I was not only working in place of multiple employees but I was doing my part to help stop the spread of a virus that was causing serious harm. To top it all off, I was feeling guilty for having those feelings while still being employed, having a healthy family (and not suffering any losses), and being able to continue my way of life pretty much unaffected in a major way. This was certainly a time of mixed feelings and emotions. Although this may not be exactly what is meant by 'sensory history', it is hard to pick other sensations of a greater degree I had felt.

At the beginning of the pandemic, I was working at a hotel on a US Military base in Stuttgart Germany where I typically worked the overnight shift. As such, my commute home in the mornings was usually the noisiest part of my day. I would often pass by the local bakery on my way home, one of the busiest places in town in the morning. I would hear the sounds of the shuffling of feet of the people in line, the clink of coins on the counter, the crinkle of paper bags filled with the daily bread the Germans would buy or the pastries they would eat for lunch, and the whine of the coffee machine for their morning coffee. In the background was the constant droning of the morning rush hour traffic. After the lockdown, when the German government shut down businesses, I had to continue working as the military converted the hotel I worked at into a quarantine facility. I continued with my overnight shifts and my commute home in the mornings while everyone else stayed home. What struck me the most about my new commute home was the silence. The utter lack of noise was practically oppressive. I could close my eyes and the only difference with the dead of night was the warmth of the sun beating on my skin. What was once the noisiest part of my day was now the quietest.

In March of 2020, I had just turned 22. I was prepping to graduate from Loyola University Chicago and searching for a job in journalism — a notoriously tough field to start out in, pandemic or not. The virus started spreading, and the jobs started disappearing. Chicago, my once-vibrant home where people scattered like ants as the CTA trains screeched into the station, was deserted. It was eerie. The internet was swarming with newly viral recipes: banana bread, sourdough starters, homemade pizzas. I wasn't interested in those, they didn't strike my fancy. In a time of severe isolation for most, I was stuck with roommates. Don't get me wrong, we had our issues. The dishes were almost never done, and we disagreed on whose responsibility they were. But in my boredom, I took up cooking, and for once I didn't mind cooking for them as well. I was one of many COVID-induced chefs who began as amateurs and blossomed into connoisseurs that rivaled the best of takeout menus. The only problem was, I'm a vegetarian, and my roommates are born-and-bred Midwesterners, set in their ways of eating and enjoying meat at nearly every meal. But by April, I had sprung head-first into a phase of cooking stuffed peppers several times a week, and they had followed me down the rabbit hole. There were no disagreements about whether to put meat in the filling or not — we didn't need it, there was enough flavor and protein regardless. And the dishes were always done, somehow without a single argument or passive-aggressive slam of a door. The peppers were fun and colorful, Instagram-worthy in a time that lacked almost anything visually intriguing. They became a source of collaboration instead of the division that had seeped in through our 100-year-old Chicago apartment's walls, a result of being trapped with no one but each other for weeks on end. It's superstitious, maybe, but I think these peppers may have saved us from severing our relationship forever. We mended our fracturing friendships and became a family once again, eating dinner together and making sure the kitchen was clean.

During my undergraduate studies at the University of Oregon, I lived in an apartment in Eugene, Oregon.  The apartment complex had a mixture of college students and non-college students, in other words, it was not specifically for college students as many in the area were.  Being that Eugene is a college town and the legalization of marijuana, the scent of marijuana was common. Walking my dog in the evenings without smelling or seeing people smoke would have been odd. The COVID-19 breakout and subsequent lockdown would alter my apartment complex's scent. As mentioned before, the smell of marijuana was extremely common. However, the intensity and frequency were increased. The scent of weed became almost as common as the smell of rain or grass in the morning. People began to smoke much earlier in the mornings, whereas before it was usually reserved for the afternoon or evening times. COVID-19 forced people to stay home, which altered their work and college schedules which resulted in more leisure time. Interestingly, or perhaps rather expected, the State of Oregon deemed marijuana dispensaries an "Essential Business".  The State would curtail one's ability to go to campus and the library, places of study, and personal development were shut down for health and safety purposes. But people were still allowed to go to a dispensary spend their money on a recreational drug. So I decided to go one, for investigational purposes of course, and after having a conversation with the local budtender, she informed me that people were being much higher qualities than before. She speculated it was either out of fear of the pandemic or the fear of the dispensaries being shut down in the near future. Thus it brought me to wonder, was marijuana deemed "Essential" for economic or psychological purposes?

Putin vs NATO

My aural experience changed greatly when Nevada all but shut down for the COVID-19 pandemic, mid-March 2020. For me, the indoors then became louder, and the outdoors became much quieter. School was canceled for my four children, so naturally my home had far fewer quiet moments than it had prior—a challenge since my son and I were taking college courses. A Just Dance song called “Diggy,” instantly reminds me of the COVID shutdown whenever I hear it, because my kids frequently danced to it (amongst others) in the first few weeks. Because my husband’s hearing aids amplify indoor sounds to the point of discomfort at times, there were also a lot of spoken (and yes, even yelled) reminders in our home for the kids to bring down their voices—another auditory memory. The outdoors were a particularly quiet place at that time, which was unusual since Las Vegas is quite lovely in the Spring. Birds and silence and the occasional barking dog, replaced the sounds of planes and traffic that normally accompany nature’s noises in my area. On still days, I could hear the school-bells chime at one of the three nearby schools, reminding me of what we were collectively experiencing. Additionally, when my kids went to distance-education several months later (August 2020), versions of the refrain “Quiet! I’m un-muting!” were daily—often multiple times a day—auditory experiences in our home.

I was in my senior year of High School when covid happened. That year that was going so well ended so badly. Once covid hit I lost all my friends and my girlfriend at the time. Everything changed and I worked at a grocery store. Ive never seen so many people at like such animals. while working at the store there would be about 4-5 fights a day and people were just fighting and emptying the shelves. It was scary to see that this is what was happening to our world and all I could really do was just sit there and watch and still hope that we would have enough product for me to still have a job. And that's not even the worst of it. I lost all of the fun things that happen senior year. I never got to go to prom, I never had a graduation ceremony, I lost everything. my girlfriend started lying and saying she couldn't see me because of coiled and I eventually found out she was cheating. I lost all my friends as well. The worst part of it is with everyone being quarantined, if you walked outside it looked like an abandoned waste land. little to no human life for months. You'd only see people at the stores and even then they aren't acting like the same people you once knew. But covid has done worse to me. Its ruined my football career and taken my dream away. It is what it is and I'm doing what I can to move on, but this pandemic changed me and everyone else. things are starting to go kinda back how they were but its not the same. Things will never be how they once were. Even when this virus fully passes and ends up just like the flu, the strain it has left on mankind as a whole will always be there. And even when historians in 50 years look back at this, No matter what there will be some part of them that has been effected by this. I honestly don't have much more to say because I feel like I've said what matters. All I have left to say is if you grew up/ are growing up during this I'm so sorry that this is what you also have to live through.

During lockdown, like many others I came in need of something to pass the time, and also like many I turned to cooking. It was something I already enjoyed doing pre-Covid, but had much less time for it. But during lockdown, there was substantially more time to put into trying new things. Trying all these new recipes became a part of my everyday life, ranging from fresh pasta, to chicken parmesan, to birria tacos. Almost all of these were new recipes to me, and the experiences and sensations that came with making them became a core part of what got me through lockdown. The smells of braising meat and stock simmering became something to look forward to each week. The new tastes and smells were something that brought the family together as we were all home, and cooking in our house is not a solitary affair. And each new dish only pushed me further down the rabbit hole of what most would consider way too much effort for a weeknight dinner. The photos attached are final dishes of Chicken Noodle Soup, Chicken Parmesan, and Birria Tacos, along with an in progress photo of the birria taco meat after braising. For recipes, refer to Binging with Babish on YouTube.

I live in Austin, Texas, in a neighborhood that is both in the approach flight pattern for Austin-Bergstrom International Airport and contains a hospital with a Level 1 Trauma Center and a helipad. During the first wave of the COVID-19 pandemic, the soundscape of neighborhood abruptly changed. The first thing I noticed, in the early days of a city-wide “stay-at-home” order was that I could hear more birds in the trees outside my second story apartment. It took a few days for me to realize that it was because the birdsong was not being drowned out by the sound of airplanes landing at the nearby runway. At the time I remember thinking that, perhaps, the sound of the birds was something I could look forward to every morning as I navigated suddenly having to find a new job due to the pandemic. Soon, the sound of landing airplanes was replaced with a sound that much harder to ignore. Ambulance sirens. It became noticeable after the first week, with ambulances arriving at the hospital several times an hour. By week three, it was a near constant drone broken up only by helicopters bringing even more critical patients into the city for care. By week eight, I stopped even noticing the sound of ambulances at all. The sound of the pandemic became so commonplace that my brain learned to filter out the wall of sirens as background noise. I often wonder how many ambulances carried patients who never left the hospital and how much suffering, fear, and sadness became “background noise” for us all. Given that we are entering into year three of the pandemic, and the United States has registered nearly one million COVID-19 deaths, it pains me to realize to know that number is far higher than any of us should have accepted.

Like a lot of people when the pandemic hit, there was a great deal of uncertainty. I didn't know how to function really, not teaching school, so like a lot of people, while thinking about my kids shortened year, I turned to baking. I tried Banoffee Pie and that was a huge faliure, but then , I stumbled on this Banana Bread recipe. I made upwards of 25 loafs in the months that follow. Every time I taste that sweet banana goodness, I think of how much I both enjoyed having that time (I mean, daily naps, what is there not to love) and how much uncertainty there was.

My brother and I went to visit our parents in Florida for Christmas in 2019. We flew out of Clarksburg, WV on December 23rd and arrived in Florida a few hours later. Christmas in Florida with our parents was great, but eventually we learned it came at a cost. We returned to the Orlando airport to leave December 30th and our flight was delayed for three hours with no real explanation as to why. We roamed the Airport and kept ourselves occupied before we were finally able to board the plane. We landed safely back in WV a few hours later. However, a day or two after returning I started to feel sick which got progressively worse. I had trouble breathing and my body ached so much that I could barely sleep. I didn’t have the strength to really do anything, and I hardly ate because I couldn’t taste or smell. I called my mom at some point and told her how sick I was, and she told me that my brother was extremely sick too. She pleaded with me to go to the doctor, but I told her it was probably just the flu and I’d be ok. My mother knew I wasn’t going to go to the doctor any time soon, so she told me to use some Eucalyptus oil to help with my congestion and respiratory issues. I grabbed a large pot and boiled some water. After the water had boiled, I added drops of eucalyptus essential oil. With a towel over my head, I began to take in the vapors, and slowly I started to feel like I could breathe once again. This became my ritual for the next week or so. I was probably doing this 3-4 times a day when I had the strength to leave my bed. I believe I was sick for nearly two weeks. The day before I finally started to feel better, I almost went to the hospital because I legitimately thought I was dying. Anyways, after news of the pandemic started ramping up, I later found out that Florida had their first Covid-19 cases in December 2019. I’m guessing that airport delay ultimately sealed our fates and that’s where my brother and I ended up getting Covid (our parents didn’t get sick). For my post I’ve included an audio file recreating my Covid ritual of boiling water and breathing in eucalyptus vapors. You can hear the water boiling, the glass bottle of eucalyptus oil being opened and then placed on the counter. You can hear a slight rustling from the towel and me taking in the vapors.

I live in Pensacola, about 10 mins from the beach. I have spent many a day at the beach with my family. The sounds and smells of the beach that are familiar to me are children playing, seagulls flying above, someone playing the radio, waves crashing, people talking and laughing, and the smell of nearby restaurants and suntan oil. It was the first week of April 2020, and I had terrible cabin fever from being quarantined, so I decided to take a drive up the coast. After about an hour of driving, I turned around to head home. That is when I really looked at the beach; I had never seen it so empty, void of all humans. I pulled over and got out, and the sounds were different. There were no laughing children, no songs on the radio, just the thunderous crashing of the waves. There was no suntan oil smell in the air, just the smell and taste of saltwater. It was surreal to experience the beach so barren but more serene than it had ever felt.

On March 25, 2020 Governor Polis ordered a state-wide stay at home order for Colorado. By this time, my family was already limiting our time outside the house to work or errands. My daughter, Kat, has severe asthma, so we knew we had to limit our exposure as much as possible. Previous midnight trips to the emergency room were full of her wheezing out tiny gulps of air, the beeps and blips of the machine keeping track of her heart rate, and the guttural growl of the blood pressure cuff as it tightened around her arm. These were the sounds I first heard when the stories of a new, novel virus came out, the sounds that stayed most in my mind the more I heard about rising cases. The first week in April the movie theater where Kat worked closed down. My son, Gabe, left his job a few days later. I cried that day, not from sadness but relief. And not a quick cry, but the loud sobs that make your shoulders shake. The next day was a major shift for us. Instead of leaving the house to work, they came to work for me instead. My cross stitch shop was already a full-time business. Now that many people were staying home, the US saw a return to basics (baking and crafting), and my shop exploded with more orders than I could fathom. There is something that satisfies most of us in having that tactile experience, whether it be the feel of flour (soft and powdery) as you knead your bread or the stabstab of your needle piercing your fabric. Though there was the stress of craft stores closing and supply chain delays, long work hours, and boxes of hoops stacked in the living room, there was mostly the sound of the Beatles and loads of laughter. Kat has a high-pitched giggle (she snorts when she really gets going), Gabe a deep laugh rich in tone. Someone came up with the adage that laughter is the best medicine. I couldn’t say who created the saying, but the sound of laughter in my house during the April 2020 lockdown in Colorado kept myself and my children in positive spirits. In fact, our lives have been forever changed by that April. They are back to their old jobs, but we still keep mostly at home and with each other. We have family game nights and cook together and keep the laughter going strong.

My wife and I really like going out to eat at the local restaurants. Of course, when the pandemic first hit the Los Angeles area everything closed due to the stay at home order that was issued in Los Angeles county. Naturally we believed that this would just be a temporary situation and looked forward to the day that the order would be lifted, and we could go back to our regular way of life. I decided to use the time sequestered at home productively and to resume my education and I enrolled in Arizona State University to finish my degree while my wife was able to continue working remotely. Ten months later we were able to begin the long journey that was the return to “normal” as the stay at home order was lifted. Much to our surprise, many of the small restaurants that we like to frequent were now closed, out of business due to their loss of clientele and the fact that many were only staying open on a month to month basis when operating regularly. It is a sad thing that the collateral damage from this Covid virus impacted small businesses all over the world in a manner that would not allow them to continue to stay open. Even now, a year after the end of the stay at home order, mandates and medical rules are still limiting the amount of people that are able to enjoy eating good food at their local eateries and it is affecting those businesses that are struggling to continue to provide services. I recorded the interior of one of our favorite restaurants one morning as my wife and I went out to breakfast, but there were still plenty of empty tables.

In the early stages of COVID, I was in Utah finishing up my Bachelor’s. Finally, after reuniting with my sister’s family in Washington, not only did I have a hard time adjusting to the noise, I had to deal with the 24/7 nonstop routine of my nieces and nephews watching either Cocomelon or Blippi. We can’t even have a movie night because the kids will end up crying to change the movie to Cocomelon or Blippi. Night and Day, my nieces and nephews would be singing to the nursery rhymes on Cocomelon or the opening song of Blippi. Although there were times when I would get annoyed or frustrated watching the same thing on the television, I am grateful for these moments. After spending many years on my own, I am thankful and blessed to be with my family during these times. In the end, it became a routine for me and my nieces and nephews to watch Cocomelon or Blippi in the evening. Not only do I get to see their sweet smiles, but I also get to hear their cute little chuckles and laughter while singing “The Wheels On The Bus” or spelling Blippi’s name. The noise that I once had a hard time adjusting to and the overbearing sound of the nursery rhymes from cocomelon or blippi's name did not matter as their sweet laughs and chuckles filled the house every evening making COVID quarantine bearable.

The COVID-19 lockdown began in March 2020 of my senior year of high school. At first, it was just a two-week vacation break, then it soon became unknown what the rest of senior year would be. I was extremely devastated when the pandemic took away my senior year because the last year of high school is one of the most memorable times of your life. Although it was a rough time, my friends, family, and I did what we could to make the best of every big moment. The first monumental moment taken away from me was my 18th birthday on April 20, 2020. My friends and I have always gone all out for each other’s birthdays such as concerts, dinners, gifts, and big celebrations. My family always went out to our favorite restaurants or had extended family come over to celebrate as well. For my 18th birthday, we made the best of it by my mom making my favorite dinner, and my friends planned a drive-by parade past my house with signs, balloons, and cards. Although it ended up being a nice day, it was still hard to enjoy it with wondering what the day could have been. Senior prom is an exciting moment that you look forward to your entire senior year. My childhood best friend and I planned to go together. My friends and I had bought our dresses back in January, so we were all ready for the big day. Due to school being shut down and social distancing guidelines, a senior prom was not possible. To make the day the best it possibly could be, my friends and I put on our makeup, did our hair, and put our dresses on to have our own prom. We took pictures together and had a little party at my friend’s house. The best part is that our version of a mini prom ended up being more fun than an actual prom. However, it is still bittersweet that we never got to experience the last dance with our senior class. Missing out on a graduation ceremony was the hardest part for me. It was the final closure to have with your classmates and teachers before heading off to college to begin a new life. I did not get to see any of my classmates walk the stage and share such a sentimental moment with them. We did receive our diplomas, but it was not the same as being on the football field with 300 other classmates and the bleachers full of family and friends. Senior banquet occurred after graduation where everyone got together at the school and had a fun night one last time. After a couple months of worrying, tears, and longing for more, it was time to move on. Although senior year did not end the way we wanted it to, the memories of making everything the best with the people I love mean the most to me.

Have you ever had a hobby that was critical to your mental health? Well ever since High School, my sanctuary has and still is, the gym. As someone who works out almost every day, the pandemic put a hamper on the manner in which I would have to work out. Gyms were closed, at the time it was winter, so it was not like I could go outside to workout. I was left with only lightweight dumbbells. During this time, things were hard for me as I felt out of shape and weaker than normal. I always felt as if I could go to the gym and block out the rest of the world and now I couldn't do so. I struggled at first, and there were times I would get so mad at the world over it. But what could I do? Nothing. So, I had to figure out what could help me get through this awful time. Which led me to learn how to properly diet and make myself the best out of the workouts I could perform. By counting my calories in a journal and still using those dumbbells in different variations, I was able to get into the best shape of my life. Now I weigh around 170 (was around 190 prior to doing this) and feel more energetic and happier than I have been in a long time. My mental health in my opinion is the best it has been in a long time. I figured that without the gym my life would go through a spiral, but it got better. This was the one time that I have been grateful for the pandemic because although it has unfortunately ruined many lives, it forced me to better myself in ways I would not have thought of prior to that. Now because of the experience, I know now that no matter what, you have to make the best with what you have and never let it bring you down. There is always a bright side to things, and contrary to belief, things WILL get better. For me, finding new ways to work out and diet helped me tremendously. I am grateful I was able to find another way to be in my "sanctuary" without actually having to be at a gym and hope others can find their "sanctuary" The moral of this story: Don't let COVID completely control your life, there are ways to battle this Pandemic and stay in good mental health. Find your method and take off with it as I did!

Due to the rising number of Covid cases in Baltimore County Maryland, many schools had to teach students virtually for a two week period. Teachers, such as myself, gave lessons from the quiet abodes of our homes or empty classrooms. After two weeks of little sound besides the occasional 'ping' of a new email, we were allowed to return. The recording provided is the sound of hallway traffic and chatter from right outside my classroom. The peace and quite of virtual learning directly contrasts the sensory experience from stepping outside my classroom to greet students. As normal in-person teaching duties have returned, the sound of slamming lockers, excited chatter, frantic test talks, footsteps, and warm greetings have returned with it. While reopening schools brings with it new challenges and concerns, for now teachers and students alike can appreciate some noise and normalcy.

My personal experience with COVID 19

the link is a video of dennis rodman interview talking about going on vacation in the middel of the NBA season

As a lifelong hockey fan, specifically for the New York Rangers, it was highly disappointing to find out that the rest of the 2019-2020 season would continue without the attendance of fans at Madison Square Garden due to lockdown restrictions during the COVID-19 pandemic. Watching every hockey game at home simply did not compare to being able to witness the firsthand action of rocket slapshots, massive hits, and gruesome fights seen up close in person. Although, I am fortunate that the rest of the season continued, and I was able to see the Rangers compete in the playoffs despite them being eliminated in the first round. Yet, the beginning of lockdown was indeed a scary time for most people. There was no anticipated end to quarantine restrictions nor an end in sight to the highly contagious virus itself. Writing this excerpt two years later, thankfully, the vaccine and the use of masks has allowed for regular attendance to return to most sports arenas and stadiums nationwide. Hopefully, we will find a permanent solution to the virus itself in the future and continue normal sports activities restriction-free!

The Pandemic put the sports world on hold just to make it one of the greatest turnouts ever. the first big event on tv during the Pandemic was the last dance. the last dance is about Michael Jordan's last year on the bulls. It felt like every human in the world was watching the tv screen. For some reason the documentary felt bigger than basketball. it served as hope for the masses. the back scene stories and the different perspectives reminded people that they can be great in their world. It was motivational in the time of need. And it provided hope and unity for the nation. it had a bigger impact than ever expect. then at the end its like what you expect goat documentary for the Goat of basketball [Watch The Last Dance | Netflix: https://www.netflix.com]

On Friday, March 13, 2020, I attended my high school for the last time. I heard people remarking that students would be sent home for a few weeks, a month at most. As students emptied out lockers and said their goodbyes to teachers, I was a little stunned by the whole process. I've never experienced something of this sort, so it was a bit difficult to adjust. Sure enough, around a week later, we got the email that we would be completing our academic year through Zoom. I couldn't believe it! I was so upset that I wouldn't be able to see my teachers or friends before leaving for college! A few weeks after that, I received a message that senior prom would be canceled, and this was really a bummer. It was really upsetting because I pictured the night over a hundred times, taking inspiration from movies and shows, but of course, it would remain in my imagination. This story details an unconventional end to high school. Typically, one's senior year is complete with great anticipation, however, the outbreak of the pandemic resulted in panic, fear, and disappointment. This is just one example of how the pandemic adversely affected life for students, especially those leaving high school.

In the years leading up to the Covid-19 Pandemic, I was working out 6 days a week. I was trying to build muscle in hopes to do a bodybuilding competition in the near future. I was making significant progress in the final months of the gyms being open and then it all changed. The Covid-19 spread became increasingly of concern and the world was going into panic. Then all the schools got sent home, I was home for a week before the gyms closed indefinitely. It was unknown how long everything was going to be closed down. There was no way that I was going to go weeks or months without the gym, I had come too far. Bodyweight exercises were not going to do the trick. I needed real weights to preform good muscle building exercises. The following day after the gyms closed, I drove to a local sports store and bought the last power rack, bench and barbell they had. This wasn't totally ideal like a real gym is, but it was enough for me to keep progressing. I was very fortunate to obtain these weights and rack because most people didn't and had nothing to work with. I lost no progress, and I am so grateful for that.

21st Birthday's in my family have always been a staple. We go out, eat dinner, celebrate with drinks, the whole nine yards. Well, that changed with the pandemic. I figured that for my 20th it was fine because I was only turning 20. When I got to my 21st, I was hoping things would change, But restaurants still were closed, bars had strict mandates. What was I to do? Well because of this. I had to spend both my 20th and 21st birthdays in my home, doing nothing but playing video games. This was a birthday I looked forward to my entire life, a birthday that most look forward to, spent playing video games. Completely ruined by a national pandemic. I was devasted, my entire mindset to the day was completely ruined and it was all due to the Pandemic. Mind you, I did have my family with me so that did not change, but the entire tradition that every one of my siblings received was taken away from me. To this day, I am still completely upset about how the Pandemic took my day away from me, but what could I do about it? Everyone was facing the same issues and I know that many birthdays were probably ruined as mine was. This Pandemic has controlled almost every aspect of our lives for the last two years, and it makes you wonder. Will it ever end? Will life ever return to the way it was before the Pandemic? I am not sure when it will go back to normal, but sure am hopeful it does at some point because I do not want anyone to have their birthday celebration stripped away as mine was.

In the summer of 2020 I was able to go back to work. I have been a server and bartender for a few years now, and knew there were going to be some changes going back to work. For one, masks were required, and half or less capacity was the new normal. Every other booth or barstools were closed to promote social distancing. There would be many problems with customers not wanted to wear masks and social distance, making it difficult for the employees to deal with. Some restaurants only allowed take-out, due to not wanting customers to be hanging out in the restaurant too long. The restaurant scene in Feb 2022 so far has mostly gone back to normal besides mask wearing.

In July of 2021, travel was open in the UK. My family immigrated to the United States in 1998 from England. My grandparents, Aunts, Uncles and Cousins all still reside in the UK. Covid has been a very hard time as I could not visit my family and they could not travel to the US. When travel opened back up we were thrilled. My mom and I planned to travel to England in July 2021. The day before we were set to leave we noticed that my passport had expired the month prior. Since my passport had not been used in over a year, we were not aware that it had expired. We tried everything to get a new one as soon as possible, but there was a delay on getting passports out because many people had the same problems. Fortunately I was able to get an emergency passport appointment in Buffalo. I got my passport at the end of July and my mom and I were set to travel in August. Traveling to the UK required many covid tests, forms and mask wearing. I had not been in an airport in over a year, and this new way of travel was very strange to me, but I was still happy to be able to travel. Traveling back to the US also required many tests and forms, the National Guards were even placed in US airports making sure travelers were filling out locator forms. It was an insane experience, and hopefully travel goes back to normal in the coming years. Although it is a different way of traveling it is still amazing that we are able to leave the US and visit other countries after a long time of not being able to do so.

At the beginning of the COVID-19 quarantine, I was recently married (about two days) and had to immediately shift to online teaching. My school believed this was only going to last two weeks. We hadn't shifted to a live online class and were still teaching asynchronously with online meetings once a week for anyone who needed help. Since I taught U.S. History rarely did my students feel they needed help (even if they really did). My husband was still working, since his oil job was considered essential, so I found myself with hours of empty quiet time. Of course, I found myself originally spending hours watching tv and streaming countless tv shows. After a couple of days of this, I decided it was time to step outside. I'm from southern Louisiana so every good house has a porch you can sit on, and mine was perfect. My neighborhood was never incredibly loud, but I live only a few blocks from I-10 (the busiest interstate in the U.S.) and there were always traffic noises. For the first couple weeks or so of quarantine, you could hear a pin drop. It was an eerie quiet, and it took some getting used to; however, I would learn to love that quiet. I would spend my days on my porch (thanks to some unseasonably "cooler" days) reading, watching Netflix, and watching my neighborhood. Birds I had never seen or heard before were in my oak trees. I also learned that Robins are very territorial and would watch my cats like a hawk during nesting season. Blue Jays didn’t wait to see what my cats would do if they got too close to a nest the birds were swooping down on them. I learned that my oak trees have a fungus that grows on the branches and can help me learn about the health of my tree. People I had never seen before were walking with a quick hi as they walked by me. I had never heard my neighborhood so quiet before or since. While I dealt with anxiety that my husband would get sick at work, or I would somehow transmit the disease to someone who couldn't fight it I also learned to relax and enjoy the moment. I had very limited responsibilities, my students only had about 3-4 assignments a week and they were assigned on Sundays. I would certainly never wish to return to that time; I would however wish that everyone could learn to relax and enjoy the quiet even if it is from your front porch

As we spend more time at home we need to find happiness in the little things. One of those little things for me has been sunbathing with my dog. We hang out on the balcony or go on a picnic and just enjoy each other's company. We feel the sun warm us, we lay in the grass and enjoy a snack. This has been my stress relief during this hectic time.

I gave birth to my first child two months into the COVID-19 pandemic, and so to me, memories of this time are centered around life as a new parent. Because we live in a different state than most of our family, and because we had a newborn (whose immune systems are not well-developed the first several weeks of life) in a global pandemic, we did not go anywhere. I had a few months off of work and school to care for my son, so my experience of COVID-19 to that point was time spent just with my son. As any parent knows, those first few weeks are an exhausting blur consisting of the never-ending cycle of feeding your baby, changing them, and helping them sleep. But the sensory memories from this time of my life that have stuck with me the most involve the feeling of holding my baby; feeling his head on my shoulder, hearing his tiny little breaths and occasional squeaky coos in my ear, noticing the sweet smell of his baby shampoo on his head, feeling him stretch and reposition from time to time. Though it seemed like the days when he would sleep independently would never come, little did I know how quickly they would, and how much I would miss these quiet moments. When he started getting the hang of napping, I suddenly had these open stretches of time in my day, which I was not used to. What to do to fill this time, especially in the midst of a pandemic and with a baby to boot? Like many people, I developed a baking hobby while my little one napped. Now I associated his nap time with the sticky feel of flour and butter on my hands as I kneaded dough for soda bread, the smell of buttery, sugary deliciousness coming from the oven as scones were baking. On my husband’s birthday, I produced my most time-consuming bake so far: a strawberry rhubarb pie. This one required some cooperation on the part of my little guy, whose giggles I heard as he batted at toys in his baby swing while I chopped and prepped the filling and made the pie crust. The finished product wasn’t necessarily perfect, but I was proud of it, and the memory of making it will always stick with me since it is a representative snapshot of that moment in time, a few months into a global pandemic with my young son.

My employer ended every person's contract in a zoom call, somewhere around 100 of us. We were all students. The ending of our contracts meant we all lost our housing since we worked for a university (this was before I was attending ASU). We were given until Sunday to have all of our belongings moved out and our keys returned, or we could pay the multiple thousands of dollars that on-campus housing would cost. Hardly any of us could afford that, some of my friends suddenly had to grapple with the idea that they would be in debt, broke, or homeless in a matter of four days. I was one of the lucky ones as I had a place to go. 1 sleepless night. 4 days. 4 trips back and forth. 11 ½ hours driving in silence. $20 spent on one final dinner with my friends and coworkers. $25 spent on moving supplies. $52 spent on gas. 506 miles. 11 ½ hours driving in silence. I drove in silence, I couldn’t handle trying to listen to anything. I couldn’t allow myself to hear a sad song and get caught up in it, or worse hear something happy and get upset that I wasn’t feeling that way. The sound of my tires on the poorly maintained interstate for what felt like truly endless hours is something I will never forget and is something that will never leave me. Rattling over pot holes, turn signals, avoiding other drivers, sitting in traffic, the sound of my new tires being worn in very quickly. This story is not unique. Countless people lost their jobs, lost their homes, lost their livelihoods during the initial shutdown. I was simply one of so many, but I was privileged enough to have a place to land. The sound of driving, the action of having to move, and the feeling of sadness, frustration, or loss due to a sudden change in life is something that I think is relatable for a lot of people during the pandemic. Audio description: Recording of the sound of my car taking the last exit off the highway into my town

The Coronavirus will certainly be something I will never forget and how it impacted myself and the people around me. The initial shutdown hit the spring of my senior year of high school. I thought we were going to be shut down for a month, at the most. That certainly was not the case. After most of the world was shut down for nearly 6 months, it was time for me to start my freshman year of college. I spent the summer going into freshman year wondering what college would look like for me, and whether campuses would even reopen come fall semester of 2020. Luckily, college students we able to return to campus, but with many changes and limitations none of us could have imagined. Moving into college was much different than I had always imagined. Before coming to campus, I had to schedule a two hour move in slot on a specific date. Before unloading anything, I had to wait in a line of other college student’s cars waiting to get tested for covid. The test had to be negative in order to be allowed on campus. The rapid covid test we received took 30 minutes to receive the results. This was the longest 30 minutes of my life. My heart was racing, and I was freaking out about what would happen if the test came back positive. I would have to drive seven hours back home, just to do it all over again 10 days later. Thankfully, the test came back negative, and I was able to move into my dorm room. Unfortunately, my roommate had tested positive, so I was alone in my room for 10 days. That does not seem like a lot of time now but looking back it was the longest 10 days of my life. Everyone on campus was isolated from each other to slow the spread of the virus. We were discouraged from having others in our dorm rooms and were encouraged to say in our rooms for the majority of the day. The gym was even opened for limited hours of the day. All these limitations meant spending a lot of time in your room alone. Along with adjusting to this new reality of college none of us expected, we had to worry about getting sent into isolation if we tested positive, and we got tested up to two times a week. I had many conversations with my roommate about how long it was going to take to get sent home because we all expected to be sent home, since we had experienced so many other disappointments and cancellations in the last few months of senior year. It was very hard to live with the high level of uncertainty. No one knew how long the pandemic was going to last, when things were going to return to normal, and whether we were ever going to receive a normal college experience. While many current college students have not experienced the normal college experience, we all expected to, we have all adjusted and have made the most of it. I am hopeful that we are close to returning to normalcy, and we all have gone through the worst of it.

I retired from the Army in September 2019 after serving for 26 years. My wife and I moved to South Texas to finally settle down, and in January of 2020 we bought our forever home out in the country near Lake Corpus Christi. Clearing the land and unpacking boxes that had been sealed for what seems like an eternity took about three months. Around late March/early April I started applying for jobs at colleges in the area, just as the pandemic was gaining national attention. As a result, no one was conducting interviews or hiring. I did not need to work, I just wanted something to keep me busy. Out of the blue, I was contacted by the U.S. Army Human Resources command to ask if I would volunteer to return to Active Duty for a year to help with the pandemic. After discussing it with my wife, I replied back that I would volunteer and provide whatever assistance I could. In June I received orders to report to Joint Base San Antonio-Fort Sam Houston in early July. The orders also stated that I was to report in my uniform. I had kept my old uniform from when I retired, but it took a bit of digging around to find everything. Putting my uniform and boots on after almost two years of retirement felt strange yet familiar. I had to get to used to the feeling of wearing combat boots again instead of regular shoes. For the next year I was assigned to U.S. Army North at Fort Sam Houston, where we coordinated Department of Defense civil support operations all over America. I also helped with the planning, organization, and execution for a large vaccination site on the installation. I was not the only veteran that returned to active duty. Like me, others volunteered to do what we could to help get through this pandemic. I enjoyed the time I spent back in the Army, and felt like I made a positive contribution to the country. The only thing that took time to get used to was the feeling of combat boots on my feet again.

Like many people at the start of the pandemic, I was not able to go to work everyday. At that point in time, I was working in a museum in Holland, Michigan, as their Interpretive Programs Coordinator, planning and running different programs to coincide with whatever exhibit was currently in the museum. My job quickly became obsolete as everywhere essentially shut down for quarantine. After a few weeks of “working from home”, we were eventually allowed to open the museum again, but with a plethora of new rules and protocols for both our staff and visitors. The biggest change was the alcohol. Not for drinking, although I’m sure that past time sky-rocketed during quarantine. I’m talking about hand-sanitizer or whatever alcohol based cleaner the museum could get their hands on in mass quantities during a time where sanitizer was a difficult commodity to come by. Even our local distilleries were producing hand sanitizer to assist with the shortage of this now imperative product. At the beginning of the pandemic, we did not know how the virus spread yet. There was a time where people were wiping off their groceries with disinfectant wipes or leaving their package deliveries on the porch for days to kill germs before bringing packages inside. Part of our new protocol at the museum was the constant use of hand sanitizer as well as having to wipe down every surface we touched with disinfectant wipes after touching it. You opened the door to your office- wipe it down and use hand sanitizer. Walked to the kitchen to use the microwave- wipe it down and use hand sanitizer. Typed your employee code in the key pad- wipe it down and use hand sanitizer. It was everywhere in the museum. Hand sanitizer has many sensory descriptors. I’ll always remember how slimy this brand was, and how it smelled like the chalky Flintstone vitamins I took as a child. But this practice of constant use of hand sanitizer and alcohol based wipes destroyed my hands. They became so dry and red. The alcohol eventually caused them to crack. The more I had to use the sanitizer and touch the disinfectant wipes, the worse my hands became. The alcohol on my open sores burned. For some in the pandemic, mask wearing was the bane of their existence, but I couldn’t stand the constant use of sanitizer. I was using vaseline every night to try to remedy the burning, but it couldn’t keep up with the use that was required to attempt to keep the rest of our staff and visitors safe. Unfortunately, the pandemic was lasting much longer than the world had anticipated and having no work to do due to the limited capacity in the museum was making me restless. I left that job in August of 2020 to work as a legal assistant in Muskegon, MI. Luckily, the further into the pandemic we got, the more we learned about the virus. As more research came out, scientists discovered that Covid-19 is an air-borne disease, and is more likely to pass through the air than by touching surfaces. Therefore, I didn’t have to use hand sanitizer as constantly as I did at the museum. Of course I’m still careful, and I still use hand sanitizer much more than I ever did pre-pandemic, but when a client walks in our office and uses the sanitizer on my desk, it’s like I can still feel that burn.

This helps understand the history of the pandemic and the situation within elementary schools and that uneasy feeling is one that everyone throughout the school feels. As covid coutines to hit elementary schools hard. Teachers and staff are doing all they can to keep students safe as well as teach and help them learn. While at snacktime, we are reminded of our current times with our students pulling masks down just so that they could enjoy snacktime. We have to be aware that this pandemic is and will effect the younger generations in ways we can't understand right now.

This story describes the terrifying lengths a person will go to in order to address pandemic-caused boredom in their child.

I never heard the sounds of my backyard and cared – now, it is my favorite sound, and my patio is my favorite place to work. I work in education, in March of 2020 our campus went virtual, and we began to work from home. My two kids, age 3 and 6 were home with me as well. Fast forward to today February 2022, our campus is still working virtually, however my kids now age 5 and 8 are away at school for 6 hours a day; this is the first time in my work history I have been able to work from home, and the first time I have been able to work kid free in two years. Prior to the pandemic, I was a busy person, work, school, kids, home, husband, dog – I did it all – what I didn’t do, was stop and listen to the peace I literally had in my backyard. Now, I sit on my patio from 9:00am to 3:00pm, rain or shine, and even though I am working, I listen and take it all in, I feel recharged to take on all my daily tasks. The calm and quiet time on the patio is much welcomed in the hustle and bustle life can become. Listening to the bird’s chirp, leaves rustle, dogs bark, sometimes the hum of a hummingbird, or the light drops of rain – it is therapeutic. The pandemic has been many things, but for me it has given me time to discover the peace the sounds around me can bring. This recording was taken on my patio, listening to the sound of my backyard as I wrote this description, appreciating the time I have.

The COVID-19 pandemic has been quite the sensory overload. Our sight, smell, and sense of sound were heightened as the world slowed down, paralyzed with fear. As I write this, I have just become one of the countless victims of COVID-19, revealed to me by a home test kit just this morning. My body is weak, I cough constantly, I get dizzy if I stand, and I find that my appetite has left me. When talking about the heightened senses of COVID, it would be easy to talk about the sounds of coughing, or the feel of masks pressed up against your face, but in this moment I find my most heightened sense is the smell of toast. Peculiar as it is, it seems to be the only thing I find remotely appetizing at the moment. My mother, who is a registered nurse on the front lines of the fight against COVID has loaded me down with a regimen of vitamins and assorted medicines. She is insistent that I keep something on my stomach to avoid getting more sick. But what to eat? Nothing looks, smells, or sounds satisfying except toast. The smell of heat and bread wafting from the toaster reminds me that it could be far worse. I could have lost my sense of smell completely, as so many have. It further gives me hope that I will move on from my sickness as society will move to manage COVID. What the smells of the pandemic can tell is, is that while it seems a collective struggle of society, it is an even greater individual struggle. How can we cope with sickness when our bodies are paralyzed with the inability to function as we once did? The smell of toast to me that provides hope, could be chicken noodle soup for another, or fresh air for another. These smells are enticing for a number of reasons to improve our health, whether that be toast to hold medicine down, or the smells of outside which bring about a healthy walk. In a world so panicked and overwhelmed, what I think will be ultimately remembered by the pandemic is the appreciation for simple sounds and smells, such as that of toast.

I was living in Germany when the COVID lockdown began in 2020. One of the big perks of living in Europe is the ease of travel and close proximity of many cultures to experience. Germany, and Europe as a whole, were strictly locked down from March to August 2020, they were not allowing border crossing and all tourist locations were shut down. In August of 2020, Europe opened back up for tourism. Three of my friends and I jumped in our car and drove six hours to Brussels, Belgium. Our goal for the trip was to do a city walking tour that included chocolate and beer tasting, the chocolate was in the early afternoon and the beer was in the evening. After being stuck in our homes in Germany for five months, experiencing the taste of fresh Belgian chocolate was almost a sensory overload. We walked up and down the main “candy shop” road, sampling every kind of chocolate and even world-famous macaroons. The smells of chocolate and bakeries almost punching our noses. Later in the evening we went to the Delirium Brewery and sampled seasonal beers that were only available on site. We all enjoyed the experience of fresh crisp taste of Belgian beer right from the keg that you cannot get from drinking out of a bottle or can. I never thought that the COVID lockdown would numb my taste and smell in a way that wasn't a symptom of the virus. Being stuck in one place eating and drinking the same things day in and day out really makes you long for something different. We were very lucky to be able to have the opportunity to venture out to such a historic and important city of Europe to experience fresh tastes and smells.

As I got out of my car last Sunday morning in pursuit of caffeine, I took one last deep breath of the freshly-brewed coffee emanating from my local barista's shop before pulling on my N-95 mask and entering the cafe. I live in California and masks are required in all shops in my part of the state. So snug was my mask’s fit, that the aroma instantly vanished. Masks and odor are tightly related, not in just snuffing out outside scents. For anyone who has ever pulled on a previously worn mask, you will have noticed an opportunity to smell used YOU, up close and nasally. Walking in to get my brew, I passed a family with two-year-old twins, bedecked in pink glittery princess gowns complete with wands, tiaras, and the newest in royal attire—tiny COVID masks. One skipped and the other twirled, both seemingly unbothered by their face coverings. And they are not alone. I am still stunned by the casual aplomb of the very young when it comes to mask-wearing. I first noticed this phenomenon several months ago at LAX. It was late in the evening—peak red-eye time. Preschoolers, some overtired and wired, others sleepily dozing in their parents’ arms, passed by. All wore COVID masks; Spiderman; Elmo; mini soccer balls, dinosaurs. None complained. Perhaps they welcomed the slight dulling of their sense of smell since young noses are far more sensitive to odors than mature ones. This makes me wonder why small children do not feel the need to evoke the Gestapo or Hermann Goebbels when it comes to a small piece of fabric that has saved millions of lives. Apart from a diminished sense of smell when wearing N-95s, will we miss mask-wearing when it is no longer a matter of life or death? I for one am not sure. I like the fact that there is no need to wear lipstick. I can skip makeup from the brow down and stop obsessing about new wrinkles. I welcome the feel of an extra layer of warmth on chilly mornings. But perhaps we should look to the two-year-olds who have accepted this bit of sartorial attire as a fun accessory—a tiara for your nasal passages.

These tweets reflect how I felt while doing my senior year from behind a computer screen in my room. I would put my zoom class on and then spend time on my phone. Life was really boring, I had school everyday and couldn't see many of my friends. My school used Microsoft Teams for class, and it was really bad compared to Zoom.

This was a Snapchat Memory I found from the end of the 1st week of the initial Covid lockdown. I was bored, so I got drunk in my closet by myself to have a good time. I found this video to be insightful to my perspective of how I felt about Covid at the time.

When the pandemic first hit, I was one of those people who believed it was just like the flu and that it wasn't going to be as bad as people said it was going to be. Over time I came to realize that this was no ordinary illness and that the world had changed drastically. Streets were empty, school was online, and it had felt like a zombie apocalypse had gripped the world. One thing the pandemic taught me was to appreciate the time you have because you never know when it may come to an end. Spending time with friends and family helped me realize the joys they bring to my life and how important they really are to me.

The anti-vaxxers are out in full force. Disguising themselves as Patriots dedicated to personal freedoms and, for some reason, the saviors of children? This Save Our Children tour harkens back to Anita Bryant’s homophobic “Save Our Children” movement in the 1970s but it’s unclear if they’re the same thing? No about page on their website. I find this disturbing that not only are people hesitant to get vaccinated, some groups are mobilizing to spread misinformation and disinformation about the vaccines as well. This comes in the tail of Neil Young’s ultimatum he delivered to Spotify about their hosting of Joe Rogan’s podcast. Neil Young and now Joni Mitchell have demanded that Spotify drop their music if they keep hosting Joe Rogan. Spotify’s stocks are way down since they chose Joe Rogan over Neil Young.

Before the pandemic the sound of a harmless cough or sneeze did not bother me. After two years into the pandemic those same sounds make me cringe. For me, the sound of a stranger’s cough or sneeze triggers the feeling of disgust. I am repulsed and immediately want to leave the environment I am in. When at work and I hear a cough or sneeze I stop, and wonder is it the cold dry New Mexico air that caused it or is it the virus? I try not to get worked up about it and carry on. The pandemic has changed a lot of once “normal” things for me, and has made me hyper aware of things I might not have noticed before.

Jalneti, an ancient technique as preventive measure for COVID-19.

Celebrating our organizations on campus. Showing that we will still make college an amazing time for everyone, safely.