Items

• 
  2020-05-30

  The Dashathon

  When the pandemic quarantine was initially imposed, I found myself with lots of free time on my hands. After weeks of low motivation and extreme boredom, I decided to sign up as a food delivery driver for Doordash, a job that was in high demand at the time. By this point in quarantine, all restaurants were closed for indoor dining, but many were still offering carryout and delivery services, largely through food delivery apps such as Doordash. Some of my friends and I started driving Doordash as frequently as 5-6 nights a week. We strategically prioritized the 4 to 8 PM time-slot in order to cover the majority of the dinner shift. Although it was quite mindless work, it was one of the few things that I had to look forward to as a daily break from the monotonous isolation of quarantine. Orders were frequent and because of the high demand for delivery drivers and very light traffic, tips were generous and reflective of the community’s appreciation for service provided by “frontline workers” like ourselves. After about a month of driving, my friends and I decided to put together a fundraiser called “Dashathon” to support some of our favorite local restaurants and small businesses that were struggling during the pandemic. Because many smaller restaurants did not have the financial resources to operate at a loss during periods of the pandemic, many were forced to shut their doors. Our idea was to reach out to all of our family and friends and designate one night where all of our income and tips from Doordash would be donated to these struggling restaurants and other local charities in need. With lots of outreach, we secured underwriting from 10 different sponsors as well as a dollar-for-dollar match pledge from Doordash itself. Our Dashathon was even highlighted in a television news segment broadcast on the local Denver NBC-affiliate newscast (linked above). We were successful in recruiting over 40 drivers to participate in our event. Through a competition-style format that rewarded the highest earners with gift cards from our sponsors, we were able to raise $15,000 dollars in just four hours. The proceeds were distributed in their entirety to designated local restaurants and charities.
• 2021-08-20

  A High School Class "Lost in Space"

  Lining the walls of my school’s athletic center are 113 shields containing the names of the members of the corresponding graduating class. Over this past summer (2021), the alumni association at my high school posted a photo from the Class of 2021 graduation presenting their shield with the caption included in this post. Out of 114 graduating classes, only one is missing from the wall, and that is my grade, the class of 2020. Like the “generation lost in space” referenced in Don McLean’s American Pie, the class of 2020 was the grade lost in space. I do not resent my school for the lack of an effort to ensure our class was included amongst the others. Yet as the wounds created by the pandemic were closing following a year in college, I returned home to find a deafening gap between the shields of 2019 and 2021 on the walls of my home of 13 years. For months, I felt the need to have in my back pocket a thesis to convince others that I had a right to feel disproportionately cheated by the pandemic. To my brother upset about his second year of college, to high school juniors, and to anyone else who dared to undermine my pain. “There are people dying, and you are complaining about your high school graduation?” Walking this hallway suggests that without a graduation ceremony, a high school class will not be documented in what is more or less an archive of the school. Ironically, it seems that perhaps this graduation was more important than anyone acknowledged.
• 
  2020-04-06

  The City That Slept

  When you look at this picture, you notice something right off the bat. Most likely the fact that the streets of New York City are completely empty. On April 6th, 2020, New York City was as quiet as it’s ever been. The streets were empty and there was a ghostly feeling to it. If you were downtown that day, something had to feel wrong. I chose this picture to submit to the archive because these streets represent how the majority of people felt during lockdown; empty and alone. When people are cooped up and confined to the safety of their home, they start to realize the things that they took advantage of when things were normal. This picture also represents the odd nature in which the pandemic brought upon the world. We’ve never experienced anything like this before, and didn’t really have any idea how to prepare. It kind of just happened, and whether we liked it or not our way of life was going to have to change for the time being. While sitting in our homes, time was never an issue and, for me personally, I kind of just expected that one day this was just going to be all over.
• 
  2020-03-28

  Staying Connected: Battling Isolation During a Global Pandemic

  This music note is the logo for Tik-Tok, the reigning social media outlet that allows account holders to both create and view content in the form of 15-120 second videos. As of 2020, there are an estimated 65.9 million monthly active Tik-Tok users in the United States alone (Statista). Although the app was created in 2016, it skyrocketed in popularity during the pandemic and saw a 75% increase in weekly average users from January to September of 2020 (Forbes). I, among millions of others, joined those figures when I created my Tik-Tok account in late March of 2020. When school closed indefinitely earlier that month and my job followed a few weeks after, my meticulously structured daily routine was thrown into a state of disarray. As mounting uncertainty grew over whether it was safe to leave our homes at all, the four walls of my bedroom transformed into a prison. I was perpetually shackled to my bed, spending every day in a continuous cycle of sleep that lacked a beginning or an end. That was until I discovered Tik-Tok. Suddenly, I had a reason to wake up in the morning, anticipating the stream of new videos that would appear on my carefully crafted “for you page”. I spent hours glued to my phone screen, fascinated by the small glimpses into the lives of people who were just as bored as I was. I appreciate Tik-Tok for the fleeting but much needed moments of laughter and distraction it supplied me with throughout the pandemic, but the app holds value to me because it showed me that I was not alone. In the early weeks of quarantine, I spent countless nights in pure distress over what I believed was “wasted time”, and it felt as if I was on the fast track to loosing years of my life. However, Tik-Tok showed me that these feelings did not belong to me alone. Countless other people felt the same way I did, and this knowledge put into perspective the importance of staying connected. My cycle of isolation left me alone with my feelings in a vacuum, but once I opened myself up to the outside world through Tik-Tok, I found solace in the online community of people who shared the same sentiments I did but chose joy and laughter instead of sorrow and despair. Tik-Tok provided me with the support I needed by allowing me to witness the happiness of others, eventually prompting me to create my own.
• 
  2020-06-25

  Hats Off: Finding Closure Amid Uncertainty

  This screen recording, a small snippet taken from a live video posted on the Richardson High School Eaglettes Facebook page on June 25,2020, takes place in the back parking lot of my former high school. The fixture in the middle of the video is a "stick chick", and just beyond the stick chick is the stadium where I performed at every football game for the last three years as a member of the Richardson High School Eaglettes, a Texas style dance team. What you witnessed was the senior hat-hanging ceremony, meant to be performed in our big auditorium at the end of our final show that is usually held in April. This moment is meant to be the pinnacle of the drill team experience, a last bow in front of your teammates, family, and friends as they celebrate and applaud you for your hard work and dedication. Every early morning, every sore muscle, every tear of frustration was meant to be justified in this moment, when I could finally hang the heavily sequined hat that carried the makeup, sweat and troubles of my three-year experience and inwardly declare "I did it". But that moment never came. When school closed indefinitely in March amidst the raging global pandemic, our final show was the first event to be cancelled, followed shortly after by prom and graduation. The disappointment was crippling. I felt my world cave in as every important moment I had waited months for was stripped from me, and soon sadness made way for anger. Then one day I received an email, announcing the date of an outdoor and socially distanced closing Eaglette ceremony. And funny enough, the moment you see here almost didn't happen. I was so content with my anger that I contemplated not attending the ceremony, controlled by the belief that denying myself of this moment would show the pandemic that it could no longer hurt me. But with some motherly encouragement I gathered myself up at the last minute, making it just in time to hang my hat. I recieved honks instead of cheers, headlights instead of stage lights, and the ages old concrete of the parking lot as my stage. But I wouldn't have had it any other way. What you witnessed was my moment of victory, my realization that good can spring forth amid bad, and the moment that I decided I would not let the pandemic defeat me.
• 
  2020-04-23

  A Succulent Story

  This is a succulent that I received as a gift during September of 2019. I didn’t pay that much attention to it, though, because I was always busy with school, sports, and work. Then, when school shut down, I started taking better care of it, and it grew this interesting little sprout with yellow flowers on it. I took this picture to send to my grandpa, who loves plants, and asked him what it was. I think this succulent really illustrates life for me personally during the pandemic. Before the pandemic, I filled every single day up with activities from the moment I woke up to the moment I went to bed. And that was ok, I did well with that schedule, and I was able to grow in that environment. This succulent received little care and attention from me, and was still able to grow in that environment. Then, the pandemic came. It was an adjustment to not have to do anything, with the exception of online school. It was definitely not a schedule I was used to. But with time, I found the positive in spending time alone and doing things that I didn’t normally have time to do. I was still growing, but in a different way than what I was used to. I had to learn to spend time alone, and to occupy myself without school or work or sports. This succulent received more attention from me after the pandemic, and was able to grow with this new environment, but it resulted in a different kind of growth. Plus, it allowed me to have an opportunity to talk to my grandpa. We weren’t allowed to see them during quarantine, and I knew he would appreciate talking about something that he loved so sending him this picture allowed me to still keep in touch with him and talk about something that we both enjoyed.
• 
  2020-05-04

  Amateur Art During the Pandemic

  This is a sculpture of a seahorse hanging onto a piece of seaweed. The base is newspaper, toilet paper tubes, masking tape, and paper mâché. The seahorse is painted gray and the seagrass is painted green. Each element is covered in soda tabs, and the ones on the sea grass are spray painted green. The whole thing is attached with nails to a branch I found in the woods of my backyard. This paper mâché seahorse was a project for my sculpture class senior year. I remember the base of the seahorse was due on Friday March 13th. That morning, my mom told me to bring everything home in case we went virtual and weren’t allowed back in the school. So I lugged the whole thing back home that weekend, and sure enough my mom was right. Most of my classes didn’t do very much for the rest of the year, since we were seniors and AP tests were the only thing we had to worry about. However, my art teacher did not take this approach. She continued to hold weekly meetings to check in on our progress for this sculpture. She had us come by the school to pick up supplies to finish it, and it ended up being really good for me. I wasn’t too happy about this at first, since I was only taking the class for fun and it ended up being a lot harder than I thought it would, but it quickly became the most enjoyable part of virtual school. I am the kind of person that needs direction and a schedule or else I will just waste the day, so the pandemic was hard for me once school went virtual and I didn’t have anything to do. I had an abundance of energy and nothing to spend it on. This project allowed me to complete something that required focus, and that also allowed me to take a break from the mundane days I was experiencing. I didn’t have time to sit there and think about all that I was losing and all that the world was losing, because I was working on this piece. It got to the point where I looked forward to doing this homework, and I was actually sad when I finished it.
• 
  2020-04-02

  False Rumors

  In Alexis Akwagyiram’s Reuters article named “African governments team up with tech giants to fights coronavirus lies”, she details how African countries are partnering with tech companies like Facebook, Twitter, and WhatsApp to ensure citizens are up to date with news on the coronavirus and prevent false rumors from spreading through these channels and eventually causing a spike in cases. In the article, Akwagyiram mentions how “false claims that garlic, beetroot, and lemons are an effective alternative to antiretroviral drugs' ' continued to spread in most African countries. However, those claims reached the African community here in the United States. My mom, a Ghanaian woman, trying to find ways to prevent herself from catching the virus, especially since she had to work during the height of the pandemic, found herself believing these said rumors. I remember entering the kitchen every morning to see her making a mixture of garlic, hibiscus herb, and ginger boiling on the stove and pouring them in cups for the family to drink. This daily routine took a toll on her health as she began to experience symptoms such as trouble swallowing, difficulty sleeping, and irritability after eating which her doctor later diagnosed as acid reflux. With my mom already having an underlying disease and being immuno-compromised, she had to start taking new medications to prevent the reflux from affecting her blood pressure. What was supposed to alleviate stress and prevent us from catching the virus, just brought more trouble to my family with us now having to worry about the effect of this new diagnosis on my mom’s well-being.
• 
  2020-03

  Instagram Community

  This collage of Instagram screenshots displays a common practice at the beginning of the pandemic that was used to stay in contact with friends and family during challenging times. When the pandemic first began, these Instagram stories were a respite from the loneliness of lockdown. Shown in these images are posts that encourage inclusion, individuality, and cooperation. An example of these posts is the orange drawing post. In this type of post, someone tags other people on their drawing and those people draw their own oranges. The chain gets preserved so that the viewers can see all of the people who also took part in the process. It was a way to connect people and produce a creative outlet. The other posts are ones in which a person answers questions about their favorite Disney characters and shares what song they are listening to. You then tag a few people to do the “challenge” next. This was a way to stay in touch with people, but also a way to show that you were thinking of someone. During the pandemic, it was very easy to feel alone and secluded. When a friend from college whom I haven’t spoken to for a while tagged me, I felt that someone cared. I was on someone’s mind even during a time of so much fear and sadness. The idea of each individual tagging multiple people also meant that the number of people participating grew exponentially and, ideally, it made us all feel connected.
• 
  2020

  COVID-Safe Birthday Parties

  The attached collage of photos displays the COVID-19 birthday parties that have become so well-known in my family over the past year and a half. After a few birthdays were skipped over due to uncertainty at the beginning of the pandemic, my family decided to do birthdays that would be distanced, outdoors, and masked. Unlike the passing of the months, which was meaningless when we were stuck indoors, the changing colors of the “Happy Birthday” sign added a sense of progress and individuality to each celebration. However, these photos, identical aside from the color scheme, are a reminder of the restrictions of the pandemic. While the decorations changed, the masks, socially distant tables, and disposable plates did not. Outdoor family gatherings at my house had once been a choice. However, during this pandemic, we did not have the option to eat indoors on a hot day or go to my uncle’s backyard where social distancing was more challenging. This collage of photos is relevant not just to illustrate ways in which our lives have changed during the pandemic, but also how we have adapted and maintained our values. These photos reflect what my life has centered around during the pandemic: attempting to engage in my normal activities in a safe manner. This is surely a sentiment that many can relate to. Thus, I feel that, in the future, these photos can demonstrate the adjustments that were made in order to maintain family values and a semblance of normal life.
• 
  2021-06

  Lasting pandemic effects of overexercising

  This page from my bullet journal displays the workout I conducted each day during the month of June, 2021. The viewer should note three pertinent pieces of information to understand the necessity of this piece for the archive: the bullet journal itself, the exercise habits, and the timeline between the beginning of the pandemic to the actual entry. Primarily, I picked up the hobby of bullet journaling itself during March of 2020. I wanted a method to record my own habits – such as exercise, eating, music taste, and TV shows - in a scrapbook type format during the pandemic. Truthfully, the entire book would contribute to the archive, due to the personal detail and day-to-day routine recorded. Secondly, the workout tracker shows a slight addiction to exercise, with runs or walks every day, in addition to tens of thousands of steps I already took. These overexercising habits began for me during quarantine, with time and stress on my hands, and no healthy ways of coping. Finally, the reader should also acknowledge that I wrote this entry in June of 2021, a full 15 months after the start of lockdown in the US. That timeline shows that lingering effects of the pandemic remain, perhaps even grow with time. This artifact expresses more about my experience with the pandemic than I can articulate due to one central reason: learning self-love through exercise. Though I’d always struggled with having time on my hands, the pandemic left me feeling more uneasy with loneliness and boredom. Without a healthy way to deal with my emotions, I turned to exercise for the release and endorphins that I needed. Before I knew it, a casual workout each day led to apple watch addiction, calorie counting obsession, and cycles of binge eating and overcompensating through exercise, etc. While this sounds like my own personal journey, quarantine kickstarted and exacerbated these issues for adolescents all over the nation. With the recent introduction of tiktok “What I eat in a day” videos and Chloe Ting’s workout videos, people grew obsessive about wellness and moving their bodies. I learned so much about my body and my brain through this struggle with overexercise and obsession – and I feel grateful for that. Still though, I notice these effects in myself and others. This small contribution of a workout tracker speaks volumes about habits of teenagers after months of loneliness and free time – whether teenagers obtained an obsession with appearance, food, or exercising. And if those issues did not resurrect for some, I’d argue that the pandemic brought many other mental health challenges to surface for my age group. While this submission does little to express my emotions or challenges surrounding my exercise routine, it conveys the lingering effects of mental health tolls and body challenges from the pandemic.
• 
  2020-03

  A thank you, and a few questions

  I attached a letter I wrote to my senior year English teacher and forwarded to the administration after my high school canceled the rest of my in-person school year in March 2020. When reading it, the reader should specifically acknowledge the timeline and therefore lack of information surrounding the pandemic, as well as the personal memories incorporated. This letter houses pent-up frustration, unfiltered emotion, and a lack of education surrounding the pandemic. As an 18-year-old who just lost the remainder of her senior year, I cater to selfish and emotional tendencies. The reader should recognize that I composed this letter before the CDC, scientists, and government disseminated lots of information and education about the virus, so it embodies the unawareness and confusion that surrounded the pandemic. Aside from that context, the reader should acknowledge the remembrances incorporated into the letter – through imagery and specific quotes, my memories and mourning become more internalized. Clearly, these images and memories can only be understood by members of the high school class or close peers. However, these details such as “alter ego outfit”, “alpha omega day”, and “mudslide” speak to personal experience during the pandemic and allow for my specific outlook. The letter I wrote bears lots of significance on my experience during the pandemic by allowing me closure and unleashed emotion. As a senior in high school when the pandemic hit, I never received closure with teachers, classmates, sports teams, etc. This letter gave some semblance of finality with my school’s administration and allowed me to express my concerns in an unfiltered fashion. Although reading the letter itself a year and a half later allows me to reflect on my emotions, the experience of actually writing the letter will never leave me either. I sat at my laptop, brainstorming what to write for an English busy-work assignment. I found it difficult to care about school anymore, after I had committed to Vanderbilt, and school moved to zoom. But, quickly, putting my feelings to paper resulted in an outpouring of passion, both positive and negative, and I cried, not sure why. Rereading the letter, as embarrassed as I am about my trivial concerns, I still return to the place of uncertainty, anger, and volatility. Even though I expressed lots of shallow ideas, the letter still bears relevance to me, as I’m proud of my honesty and vulnerability during that time.
• 
  2021-03-30

  Vaccines Rollin’ Out. Covid’s Over?

  The picture that I have chosen for the archive is one of me after getting the vaccine in March of 2021. After receiving the vaccine, I captioned the photo, like many of my optimistic peers, “Covid over.” Since last February of 2020 when the pandemic started, a vaccine was finally being distributed across the country (USA), and a majority of people were ecstatic that quarantining was over. But little did I know, many people would be against taking the vaccine leading to variants of Covid-19 like the Delta variant. This picture was taken six months ago from when this archive was being made, and Covid is still not over because people choose to believe these conspiracy theories of the government putting microchips in the vaccine and other ridiculous things like that. Even with a vaccine that is available to everyone in the United States, the pandemic is still raging on with the Delta variant running rampant in the hospitals which has an even worse effect than the normal strain that was going around from February 2020 to around May of 2021. This picture is just to show how hopeful people get from new technology coming out that can save thousands of lives, but ignorant people choose to convince others what they believe since they are spreading their crazy selfish conspiracies. I was so hopeful of having a normal sophomore year of college, but once again Covid is still present (as of September 14, 2021) putting the elderly at risk and quarantining/putting a hold on people’s lives.
• 
  2020-05

  The Class of Covid(2020-21) [MISSING MEDIA]

  The picture above that I have chosen for the archive was taken around May of 2020 which is a few months after Covid-19 started spreading very quickly around the United States of America. This was the very start of online school and the era of Zoom. For future readers, Zoom was the company that acted very quickly during the start of the pandemic and made virtual meetings the most convenient and efficient for schools, companies, and friends who could not see each other in person. I personally had many online meetings with my friends when our parents would not let us out of the house in fear of the treacherous Covid that we might bring back with us. In the picture, the very last high school class of my career was over Zoom, and I could not hug or see my close friends, classmates, or teachers before graduating. My private school went from kindergarten to 12th grade in high school, so some of these people I have known for more than 8 years, and Covid prevented me and many other students across the nation and the whole world from having that sentimental last day being able to say goodbye to our favorite teachers or seeing some acquaintances before heading off to college. It is just crazy to think that it will be a very long time before another graduating high school class is forced online or in the near future when online class is just a foreign thought that would baffle kids or young adults that hear about it.
• 
  2020-06

  Pandemic Protests

  These images from June 2020 were captured during Black Lives Matter (BLM) protests in New York City following the killing of George Floyd. The first image shows City Hall the morning after BLM protests. In this image of a landmark building covered in spray painted cries for change, graffiti depicts the frustrations over the cruel injustices institutions place on people of color. The second image depicts one of many protests during summer in quarantine when New Yorkers came together on avenues, bridges, and squares. Citizens marched and chanted as police followed alongside to ensure protests remained peaceful. These images capture uniquely complex dynamics when people were forced to pursue creative avenues, reinventing social justice movements to come. My time in quarantine was not solely spent on COVID related activities, I also educated myself on how and why many US institutions remain racist, discovering ways that structural change can address unjust attitudes. I read articles written by advocates for the BLM movement and also by conservatives opposing it. In exposing myself to differing mindsets, I was better prepared to engage in conversations with others opposed to change in the hope of educating them on the pressing need for progress. Furthermore, my high school friends and I frequently Zoomed to discuss how our alma mater contributes to racism in both subtle and overt ways. These conversations allowed us to work with fellow alumni, as well as current students, to create a document clearly listing racial inequities within the student body, the faculty, and the curriculum. For each issue that we highlighted, we provided multiple alternatives for how the school could fix the matter in question. While these conversations were unexpected before the BLM protests occurred, they became productive and fulfilling conversations that in and of themselves began to address long held biases, racist representations and undercurrents of injustice within our alma mater’s community and programs.
• 
  2020-05

  Remembering NYC 2020

  These photographs taken from April-June 2020 capture New Yorkers interacting with the empty stress of the city during COVID-19. The first image displays an off duty fireman walking down vacant 5th Avenue, apparently in tribute. His body position highlights the stress, grief, determination, and exhaustion experienced by so many New York frontline workers. The next image was taken of the once bustling streets of SOHO. In this photograph, an older man appears exhilarated during a moment out of quarantine. Getting some fresh air, he turned up his car radio and bellowed out the lyrics of “New York, New York”, the anthem for New Yorkers. The third image captures young cyclists riding, practicing tricks, and laughing. The final snap is of two jazz musicians near the entrance to Central Park, a spot they often inhabited pre-pandemic. They played exactly as they once did, only masked this time. As a twenty year old who would normally be thrilled to spend the summer at home, surrounded by the lively energy of NYC, I was determined to find a way to interact with my city in a creative and safe way. After completing many projects from home (such as making filter masks for medical staff and collecting supplies for donation), I decided to use my knowledge of and passion for photography to capture fellow New Yorkers doing their part to help lower the spread of COVID and to find moments of camaraderie to fuel their, and others’, fight against this virus. In turn, the act of getting in my car and driving throughout the city, equipped with my Canon Rebel 55mm was my way of finding a measure of peace, purpose, joy, and meaning during the six long months in quarantine in New York City.
• 
  2020-03-15

  Lockdown in the Frozen Tundra

  When we first got the news about school closing down for a couple days, school was the last thing on my friend group and I's minds. When we got off school that gloomy March day, I instantly met up with my friends to go up north for a trip we had been planning for weeks. I was so excited because we had so many activities planned such as snowshoeing, hiking, and snowmobiling. After we all met up, we packed up the car and left. At the time, we had heard things about Covid-19 from around the world, but we were all still pretty foggy on what it is and what it does to you. It was almost as if we acknowledged that it existed, but told ourselves that it could never happen in the United States. When we got there, we unpacked all of our things and quickly headed outside to go snowshoeing on a nearby path. When we were through with our activities for the day, we headed back to the cabin. I remember checking my phone and having a bunch of texts from my parents and friends saying that they had just cancelled school for another couple of weeks, and I started to think that maybe this whole thing was more serious than I had thought. Looking back on this picture, I look at all of our faces and notice that we were so oblivious to what we were about to experience. This is essentially the picture taken before our lives changed forever.
• 
  2020-04-16

  The Diary of a Broken High School Senior

  I was a member of the class of 2020 at what I believe is the most incredible school imaginable. Perhaps after thirteen years I am far from unbiased, but the sense of community offered by my beautiful, 1,200 student Pre-K through 12th grade school is unmatched. Now, envision a girl who walked this campus with her childhood best friends, siblings, and cousins, and, rather frequently, her mother who made an effort to lead the Parents Association countless years. Overlay a history of homesickness and a global pandemic, and the product is March 2020 me when this blissful chapter of my life was abruptly ripped away, propelling me prematurely towards college at a school I had already decided could never fill the shoes of my high school. This tear stained entry was written on April 16th, when my state governor officially shut down all schools for the remainder of the school year. I had spent the last four weeks with a countdown on my iPhone tracking the days until I could return to school. The countdown had to be adjusted at one point when “coronacation” was extended from one to three weeks. Yet I remained the voice of naive optimism, unwilling to entertain the unfortunate reality that everyone around me had already accepted. This may seem dramatic and theatrical. But this same optimist in me hopes that, should anyone stumble upon my story, they will “respect what [they] cannot know” (Saidiya Hartman). There is much more to this story and my history than could ever be relayed to another person. But with the right lens, great value can be extracted from every story, no matter how many dried tears dot its pages. Hartman, Saidiya. "Venus in Two Acts." Small Axe, vol. 12 no. 2, 2008, p. 1-14. Project MUSE muse.jhu.edu/article/241115.
• 
  2021-09-16

  Assignment for Literature and Cultural Analysis Seminar

  I'm sharing an assignment sheet for my "Literature and Cultural Analysis" class at Vanderbilt University for the Fall 2021 semester. The class, themed "The Archive," is designed to encourage critical thinking around the concept of the archive and its material practices and embodiments. While we think of the ways in which archives enable research and help to cultivate new knowledge and stories, we also consider how archives encode structures of power and act as sites of forgetting as much as remembering. I've asked my class of twelve students to contribute to the COVID-19 digital archive as their first writing assignment for the semester. This assignment is designed to introduce them to an existing and regularly updated archive and ask them to think critically about processes of archiving and the decisions that go into selecting, categorizing, and framing the importance of a cultural artifact. My students have been asked to choose 2-3 items from their experience of the pandemic year to share in this public forum. Their contributions will be tagged to sync up with this assignment sheet.
• 
  2020-10-08

  2020 Election

  The picture above is a photo that I took of myself after mailing my absentee ballot for the 2020 election. This was something that was especially exciting amidst the difficulties that Covid-19 had caused in the United States and around the world. Due to the pandemic, most in-person voting was not happening that year. Instead, most people mailed in ballots. As a college student, I needed to register for an absentee ballot in order for me to vote in my home state of New Jersey. I remember that I did this while I was stuck at home over the summer. For me, during the summer of 2020, I did not feel as though I was accomplishing anything. Registering for my absentee ballot was one of the only things that I actually accomplished during this time. In addition, there was much unrest in the country, as well as on social media, that motivated me to register as well. As a 20 year old, this was the first Presidential election that I could vote in, which made it especially important for me. During the summer, with all of the unrest in the country, I was interested to see the areas in which I agreed with my parents, and the areas in which we disagreed. In such a disaster of a year, I wanted to be able to say that I had voted in the election, at the very least. It is my civic duty after all. I think that this photo is extremely interesting because it is a true time capsule. I am wearing a mask, which characterizes the Covid pandemic. The filter proudly states, “Just Voted!!!” and “Elections 2020”. There is a joy that is evident on my face; there is something exciting about being able to vote in your first presidential election. Throughout my life, I have learned about elections and have always wanted to take part. In the 2016 election, my high-school peers and I, who were nearly competent citizens, were forced to watch from the sidelines. There is also something particularly interesting about an election in an extremely difficult time. It felt important in a way that regular years might not.
• 
  2020-09-16

  Vanderbilt Covid Testing

  This photo is a screenshot of an email that I received during the Fall 2020 semester at Vanderbilt University. Throughout the semester, I received many emails that looked exactly like that one. The email is proof of a negative Covid test result, which every Vanderbilt student had to receive each week during the fall semester in order to remain living in their dorm. If a student tested positive, they would be taken from their dorm into quarantine housing. For some context, in March of 2020, all Vanderbilt students were sent home early due to the coronavirus. From March onward through the summer, Vanderbilt students worried about their fate as students. Would we be allowed to return to Nashville in the fall? Would we be subjected to more online “college”, trapped in our childhood bedrooms? This anxiety physically ate away at me, keeping me in a constant state of unease. When we finally heard that we would be coming back to campus, it felt as though an immense, invisible weight had been released from my shoulders. We were told, however, that there would be restrictions to college life. At that moment, I did not care an ounce. I would happily take any variation of college, as long as I would be able to live on campus. One of my major stressors entering that year was that we would be kicked off campus a second time. Callous students loudly proclaimed that this was inevitable, there would be no way that we would last this upcoming year. Comments like this brought the anxiety right back to the pit of my stomach. As a student who was going to be living on campus, what would I do if I was kicked off? Where would I go? I did not even want to think about that as a possibility. But that was the energy that charged the air at Vanderbilt that year: there was a fear and a deep distrust that Vanderbilt would stay open. One of the key differences between this year and other years at Vanderbilt was the weekly Covid testing (In the spring semester, the Covid testing was twice weekly). Students were required to enroll in times in their schedule when they would trek over to the Rec, or the large gym on campus, to spit in a tube. At the beginning of the year, I would go with my friends during our allotted time. We soon learned, however, that it did not really matter when you went, as long as went sometime during the week. While this was in some ways comical, to walk into the Rec center, with pop music blaring, and spit alongside your college peers, there was something stressful about it as well. It was like constantly turning yourself in; if you did have the misfortune of having Covid, you had willingly given yourself over for the school to come and take you away. Especially at the beginning, fear of Covid was rampant. Even if you felt fine, a scratchy throat may seem like your doom. At the beginning of the semester especially, waiting for the emailed results felt like eternity. And we all knew what would happen to people who tested positive, or those unfortunate enough to be contact traced: they were shipped off in a golf cart for everyone to see, and were banished from the rest of campus. But this was worth it, all of it was worth it for us. The stress of getting tested and the fear of being quarantined was a miniscule price to pay for being able to be on campus, with our friends. It was an escape from our summers of restriction. Or at least, it was for me. And for that, I give Vanderbilt tremendous credit for opening and following through successfully with the covid-testing of all the students each week.
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  2020-03-11

  The Vanderbilt University COVID Shutdown

  This is a photo of an ABC news segment that was aired on March 11th, 2020, at the very beginning of the pandemic in the United States. The photo shows an interview of a Vanderbilt student (me!). The caption reads “Undergrad Students Must Move out by Sunday”. The interview was taken on a Wednesday, which had been the day that the students were notified that they would need to vacate the campus. The Monday of that week, March 9th, had been our first day after spring break. That same day, we received the first email about the Coronavirus. It stated that classes would be cancelled for the next two weeks. At that time, some students and parents began to panic. Some students decided to leave campus for those two weeks, and believed that they would simply return after those two weeks. These students only took the belongings that they would need for those two weeks, and many of them left the majority of their things in their rooms. Two days later, on the Wednesday of that week, the students received a second email that we would all need to leave campus, and that we had until that Sunday to move all of things out entirely. Naturally, mass chaos ensued as students struggled to figure out how to move all of their things. Most students did not have any help from parents or family, as many people were afraid to travel. This time was a blur of stress, fear, and sadness as students mourned the year that was left unfinished. It was a charged frenzy of packing and moving, but despite this, all around the Vanderbilt’s campus, friends could be seen hugging and crying, particularly the graduating seniors. It was truly surreal in the worst way possible. For me, this picture represents that entire, horrific, move-out experience. On the day that I found out that we would need to leave for the remainder of the year, I was in a practice room in my dorm with one of my friends. He had just been telling me how he had been fighting with his father over whether or not to leave during the two weeks without class. He, of course, wanted to stay on campus, but his father was convinced that he needed to come home. I had already conceded to my parents on that battle, and had plane tickets to come home for the Friday of that week. I, like everyone else, thought that I would only be going home for two weeks like the email had explained. I also was willing to be home for the two weeks to see my family, as I had been in the UK over spring break, which had caused major tensions with my parents. Wednesday’s email confirmed our worst fears: we would all be forced to leave for the rest of the year. I remember feeling completely numb. I walked out of the room to call my parents, while my friend called his. As I spoke to my mom, I realized that I would need to pack up all of my things extremely quickly. She advised me to go to the UPS store to get boxes; as soon as my friend and I were both off the phone, we went straight there, buying up many boxes each to begin packing. While we tried to smile and be upbeat, both of us were still in utter shock. With every ounce of my being, I did not want to leave. It was my sophomore year, and college finally seemed to be mine; I had a phenomenal group of friends who I loved deeply, I was involved on campus, and I loved my classes and professors. The tragedy of it all reverberated through me in waves. As devastated as I was, I had a more imminent task to focus on: moving out. Once we had bought our boxes, we realized that we could not carry them back to campus, and ordered an Uber. As I struggled to carry my boxes from the Uber, I noticed a news crew stationed outside of my dorm. “Could we ask you a few questions?” they called to the pair of us as we labored with our boxes. My insides swirled with anger and frustration about the whole situation, about the unfairness of it all. “Yeah, for sure!” I responded. Maybe someone would actually listen to us, and understand the insanity that we were experiencing. While I don’t remember the exact questions asked, I remember telling them that we had just picked up boxes as we were required to leave campus later that week. I attempted to communicate how upsetting this was to the entire student body. While I have never actually seen this news clip, a friend of mine sent me this picture of me being interviewed. For me, this picture captures how surreal the move out was. I was on the news, and I forgot all about it. It honestly meant nothing to me in that moment, as my world was pulled out from beneath me.