Items

• 
  2020-09-09

  The smells of the campus silenced

  The vibrant community around San Francisco State was the main factor why I decided to move into Park Merced. The ability to walk to campus each day or ride my bike with other students was exciting to see riding skateboards or bikes while smelling coffee or energy drinks was common. The smell on campus with the wide variety of food and snacks was common to every part of the campus early or late. However, this all changed once Covid was originally announced and students and staff started leaving the campus and area and the sights and sounds of people and food on the campus were silent. The campus now remained silent and the smells of burritos and coffee were gone along with students walking to campus. The residents who used to sit outside and occasionally sat outside reading papers disappeared. The air while cleaner breathing because of the lack of air was soon polluted by the fires in California leaving a red mist that made the air smell like burnt wood. The pandemic changed so many people's lives and it is important to recognize the impact mentally and physically people have suffered. The pandemic silenced the campus and the community silencing the site and sounds while removing the smells that the campus was known for.
• 2020-03-12

  The Disinfectant Spray

  As a high school history educator, Thursday, March 12, 2020, stands out in my mind as a significant date as it was the final day of in-person instruction before our district decided to close the school until Spring Break as a result of the spread of COVID-19. There was nervous energy radiating from my students and colleagues. The fear of the unknown was palpable. I remember changing my current events lesson mid-day as the activity I had planned, monopolized by the growing health crisis, brought me too much anxiety. By that point in March, there were portable hand washing stations located at various points on campus, students more readily pumped the wall-mounted Purell hand sanitizer container on their way into my classroom, and the school sites passed out a collection of cleaning supplies to the teachers. I used the school-provided disinfectant spray to help keep the classroom clean. The smell still serves as a visceral call back to that March day. Between each class, I dutifully sprayed the disinfectant on each desk, wiping it clean for the next student. The nose-scrunching sting of the alcohol-based cleaner filled my room rather than the calming vanilla room spray, amplifying the seriousness of the situation unfolding beyond my classroom walls. The smell lingered in my nostrils as I told my students that I would see them the following Tuesday, not knowing that those sophomores would not step foot in my classroom again before they were seniors in high school. The scent swirled around me as I packed up my belongings at the end of the day and debated how much I should bring home with me. The smell still enveloped the classroom as I unknowingly shut my door for the rest of the 2019-2020 school year and left campus. There have been many iterations of the smell of alcohol-based cleaning wipes and hand sanitizers throughout the pandemic as we anxiously try to keep ourselves healthy. The obsessive use of disinfectants reveals the desperation we feel to combat an invisible foe. However, the school-provided disinfectant still has the distinct ability to conjure memories of that emotional day in March when we were on the precipice of change.
• 
  2017-03-19

  Sweet Smell of Peroxide

  You could not walk into any establishment last year without the delightful smell of disinfectant and cleaning products entering your nostrils. When I worked at Aldi and Lowes last year, the cleaning products sold out in two weeks at the start of the pandemic. The lack of these products became so bad that stores across the country had to regulate home many products consumers could buy at a time. The regulation for disinfecting the stores I worked at were in 30 minute intervals. Shopping carts, door knobs, flat surfaces, and bathrooms were all expected to be disinfected on a continuous loop. Although I agreed that these procedures were necessary, they products were used eventually caused me to develop anosmia. Today, my current job still has a huge supply of disinfectant wipes stocked up underneath the kitchen counter. This sight bewilders me because I never would have thought two years ago that having Lysol and wipes on hand would be seen as necessary now in our present future. To this day, I still cannot smell disinfectants, perfumes, and other fragrances to their entirety. I honestly see this as a blessing and curse due to past experiences with both strong aromas and odors.
• 2020-02-02

  Sounds and Scents of a Maine Island

  In February 2020, I moved to Vinalhaven, an island off the coast of Maine, for a job that promised to advance my career and provide time for personal introspection and growth. The island community was vibrant, and as a newcomer, I was invited to dinner parties, game nights, and book club meetings – I hardly had time to miss the family and friends I left behind in Colorado. Three weeks later, the COVID-19 pandemic required me to exchange my introduction to the community for long solitary hours. Handshakes and warm hugs from new acquaintances were replaced by cold winter days and a lack of human contact. The seclusion drove me to explore the island’s shoreline and conservation trails and intermingle with nature that was unimpeded by humans who had retreated behind the walls of their homes. Without the distraction of a companion, I noticed the wind rushing through trees, saltwater crashing against the rocks at the ocean’s edge, bald eagles screeching, chickadees singing, and small animals scurrying through tall natural grasses near the basin. I sat so still one morning that a curious, gray mink approached me and stared for a few seconds. One November evening, while I walked along the rocky shoreline at State Beach, an estrous scent from a whitetail doe in heat wafted from the nearby woods. While the pungent odor attracted bucks, the smell assaulted my nose and distracted me from the fresh scents of saltwater, pine, and balsam. The overpowering smell suggested that the doe was close; her presence comforted me in my isolation. I expected to integrate into my new island home through people. Instead, I became grounded in the environment, surrounded by the sounds and scents that I may have otherwise missed.
• 
  2020-04-07

  Rediscovering the tastes of my childhood

  Some of my earliest memories are of the sights, sounds, and tastes of my grandmother’s kitchen. She passed away almost exactly one year before the stay-at-home order was put in place in Washington State. At that time, I was already an online student working from home and my partner was driving across the state every weekend to work and come back home. When lockdown started, I didn’t realize how cooped up I would feel. I decided I needed to revisit the feelings of my grandmother’s kitchen. Around the same time, my family got a trailer full of boxes of my grandmother’s things. In this box was a handwritten cookbook filled with the recipes and stories from my childhood. There were handwritten letters from my great-grandfather to my grandmother, recipes she had clipped out of newspapers in the 1970s and 1980s, and family recipes I thought were lost when she passed. One of which was a Spiced tea, also known as friendship tea, recipe. For me, this tea is the epitome of Christmas time spent with my grandma. This recipe exists on the internet, but it was never as good as the one my grandmother made. When I found these recipes, I set out on cooking my way through them to pass my time during lockdown. My partner was working remotely so he was home to try them with me. It was an emotional experience for me after the loss of my grandmother and it reminded me how much food can bring people together. This recipe no longer represents Christmas and my grandmother, it now is something that makes me think of lockdown with my own family and how it brought us together. If it wasn’t for the stay-at-home order, I probably wouldn’t have connected to these recipes again and I definitely would never have had to buy tang. The pandemic has brought a greater connection to history and sensory history. The pandemic has also changed the way we experience our senses and even changed those senses for some people. Sensory history shows how people experienced the world around them during the pandemic. If you try this recipe, don’t be afraid of adding more or less of what you like. I don’t know what measurement a scoop is, but as my grandmother always told me, we don’t measure to be perfect we measure with our hearts. My best guess is that there are about 2 tablespoons in a “scoop”. Ginther’s Spice Tea 1 ½ cup Tang 6 scoops lemonade ½ cup instant tea ½ cup sugar ½ teaspoon cloves (or fresh whole cloves) 1 tablespoon cinnamon (or fresh sticks) Combine the above ingredients. Add 2 Tablespoons of mix per cup of hot water.
• 
  2021-10-04

  #REL101

  This is an assignment submitted by an Arizona State University student while they were taking a Religion 101 course. In the attached document the student describes their experience with covid 19.
• 2021-10-04

  They said we were heroes but they treated us like villains

  My experience with the covid 19 pandemic was very different from a lot of people’s. Instead of staying home and not going outside, I had to work. I wasn’t a nurse or doctor or even a service industry employee. I did work in health care but registration. I also didn’t work at an ER or hospital. I worked at an urgent care that didn’t treat covid but did test for it. This urgent care was also in the middle of Los Angeles, California. I was doing patient registration in Los Angeles, California, at the peak of the pandemic when one in every three people had covid. Since we were so understaffed and overworked, I easily worked about 60 hours every week for almost a year. Now I’ve worked many jobs throughout my adult life. These include retail during Christmas, a theme park during summer and Halloween haunts, and the graveyard shift at a casino. Out of all those, the worst people and treatment I encountered were from the patients who wanted to be tested for covid 19 when we ran out of tests. We were a private company, and Los Angeles had multiple free test sites available to anyone in the LA area. You didn’t have to even to be a resident or have insurance. But none of that mattered; they were there and wanted to be tested. Even though it was 9 o’clock at night and we ran out of tests over four hours ago. I know I’ll always be able to find an administration or clerical job in health care. I have over ten years of experience in that field. But, after what I went through during covid, I don’t think I will ever work in health care again. Every time someone says health care works are heroes, all I can think is, they have a funny way of showing it.
• 
  2021-02

  The Covid-19 Struggles and Success of a Full-Time Student

  This is a short interview that I worked on for my college course this semester all about Digital Storytelling. I interview a close friend of mine who has experienced the pandemic for a full year as a full time student and the transition from in-person to online classes. We also touch on other personal challenges that he faced and he discusses how he was able to succeed still as a full time student and now employee, a year later.