Today marks the 50th anniversary of Earth Day. Conceived in the midst of social, political, and racial upheaval of 1970 when 22 million Americans took to the street to voice their concern about the way our species was treating the natural world, this celebration continues to recenter us each year on our connection with our living earth.
Having collectively faced several weeks of adjusting to an entirely unanticipated and drastically different lifestyle here on campus, our counseling team shares thoughts on how we can best cope with our new circumstances and continue to maintain a strong connection to the Proctor community while being physically distant. This new narrative we are facing is far from the one we imagined. The “supposed-tos” and “should-haves”, “wanted tos” and all of the visuals that accompany the narrative are disrupted, and, for now, unattainable. We as counselors know that a shift in our personal narrative is emotionally disruptive…a term we call dissonance. How can we collectively as the Proctor community cope?
It’s not easy finding the community fix these days. It’s not easy for faculty, not easy for staff, not easy for students. The virtual get-together gets you maybe half way there, but there’s nothing quite like the face to face. So we find it where and when we can, and I am fortunate enough to be able to duck into the kitchen now and again.
Front and center in our conversations with prospective students is our belief in expanding our students’ identities during their Proctor journey. We encourage each prospective student to ask themselves “Who could you become?” They arrive with one perception of self and quickly realize their self-imposed, artificial confines of identity need not apply here. Institutionally, we are facing our own “Who could we become?” moment. What can we learn from this COVID-19 induced remote experience this spring? How can online or a hybrid learning model work at Proctor? What do we miss most about our community being together and how do we ensure that sustains in the future?
Two summers ago, my family had the opportunity to take advantage of Proctor’s Summer Enrichment Program (mini-sabbatical of sorts). We spent sixteen days driving over 5,000 miles around the American west in a campervan. I mapped the route meticulously months in advance.
Dear Seniors,
Walking campus yesterday in the late afternoon, the emptiness was overwhelming. The parking lot by the gym - I have never seen this before - did not have a single car in it. Not one. Entering buildings I could hear the hiss of the HVAC systems, every building breathing and sighing with a different personality.
As students packed their bags for Spring Break on March 6, COVID-19’s impact on our school community was not top of mind. We knew it would impact a few of our international students’ vacation plans, but prevent our return to campus to start the Spring Term? Few of us could imagine that reality.
I woke early this morning in the midst of the most vivid dream. A mentor of mine went out of his way to help me, making extraordinary personal sacrifices to reunite me with my family. It was one of those dreams where you feel like you are having real conversations, can physically feel yourself walking, touching, navigating your surroundings. I have not dreamed much the last two weeks. My mind has been full, anxiety high, to-do list long. But last night’s dream provided a wave of calm in what otherwise has been a stormy few weeks. I started the day with new hope.
