98 The Pandemic Experience: Missed Milestones and Moving Forward
Anonymous
During the global Covid-19 pandemic, I was finishing high school and beginning my undergraduate career. I was 16 years old when Covid-19 was first declared a global pandemic, completing 11th grade in the Greater Toronto Area under the York Region District School Board (YRDSB). Looking back, I believe that I was in the midst of a crucial period in my teenage life—a time filled with both stress from the highly demanding workload of high school, and the confusing journey of self-discovery. By the time Covid-19 was no longer declared a threat I was 19 years old, attending McMaster University and working towards an undergraduate degree. In those years, I never left Canada, partially due to global travel restrictions and partially due to the widespread anxiety and panic that surrounded the pandemic.
When Covid-19 was first declared a global pandemic I was halfway through my second semester of grade 11, with just over a year left until graduation. On the last day before entering the week-long March break, the school board announced that the break would be extended by an additional week. Walking around the halls that day, I didn’t know it would be for the last time that year, and that returning to those same halls would never feel the same.
In accordance with the public health measures implemented by the federal and provincial governments, studies were moved completely online, so I finished my grade 11 year over Zoom meetings and through online assignments. Not only did I struggle with this transition, but the sudden change made me less motivated to learn and participate in my classes. As a result, I felt myself mentally distancing myself more and more with each passing day.
For those first few months, my family carefully followed the guidelines and public health measures and we stayed at home, only leaving for occasional walks around the neighbourhood while wearing masks. I felt safe that my family was cautious. However, the strict measures made it difficult for me to interact with others outside of my household. For the first 4 months of the pandemic, I only saw my friends through a screen. My reality became one that I never could have imagined. The physical isolation alongside the news flooded with increasing cases and deaths triggered anxiety in ways I have never experienced before. With time passing and summer starting, restrictions began to ease and small gatherings were permitted outdoors with social distancing. That’s when it felt like some normalcy was coming back, as I was able to eliminate the physical and figurative barrier that stopped me from seeing my friends. The feelings of loneliness began to subside as we were all adjusting to what we realized was becoming our new reality.
As the next school year began, public health measures continued changing and schools started opening, integrating some in-person classes with online studies. Specifically for us, we had 1 class in person and the rest remained online. For one week, half of the class would attend lessons in-person while maintaining social distance and wearing masks. The other half of the class did not study that subject for that week and would attend in person the following week. Classes would cycle like this, and at the end of the 2 week period a similar one would begin with a different class so that everyone had a chance to attend in-person lessons for all of their classes. Adjusting to this new system was rough, but it was better than nothing. Getting back to a familiar rhythm, one that included sitting in a classroom and interacting with others, made me feel like “normal life” as I previously knew it had a chance of coming back.
The Covid-19 pandemic occurring during my final years of high school was even more disappointing as I missed out on my graduation and prom—two events I had looked forward to for years. Graduation was supposed to be a moment of celebration, a chance to walk across the stage, receive my diploma, and feel a sense of closure for all the hard work I had put in. Instead, it was reduced to a virtual ceremony, which felt impersonal and empty. I graduated high school on an unmemorable day sitting on the couch as a photo of my face showed on the screen for a few seconds, a sliver of a slideshow containing hundreds more faces.
Prom was another major loss. I had imagined dressing up, taking pictures, and dancing with all my closest friends—one last memorable night before we all went our separate ways. Instead, there was nothing. No closure, no final goodbyes, just an abrupt ending to a chapter of my life that I didn’t feel ready to let go of.
Instead of getting to celebrate these achievements with my friends, who went through the journey with me, I was forced to do it alone. It was difficult, but it also taught me resilience. I learned to appreciate small moments and to adapt to uncertainty. While I still feel the loss of those milestones, I’ve come to accept that life moves forward, even in unexpected ways.
A course theme that connects with my Covid experience is shame. The idea of shame comes to mind when talking about various global pandemics across many diseases and often comes as a byproduct of stigma and blame. During the Covid-19 pandemic, I saw shame in two ways: the shame that came with being infected and the shame of infecting others. I did my best to follow all public health guidelines and remained reasonably isolated to ensure the safety of my family and myself. Even when others around me grew tired of the ongoing isolation and stopped following the recommendations of social distancing and mask-wearing, I remained as vigilant as I could.
To me, it seemed like getting infected as a result of negligence and ignorance of public health mandates was something to be ashamed of—even more shameful was the idea of infecting those I care about all due to selfish reasons. That’s how I went two years of the pandemic without contracting Covid. However, when I was already in university and restrictions opened up as Covid was no longer considered a threat, I finally felt safe and comfortable enough to socialize more. Unfortunately, around that time I contracted Covid for the first time. Although at the time most of the population had received multiple vaccinations, I still felt the shame—the exact feeling I tried to avoid for so long. I felt ashamed of myself for not being more careful, and even more, I felt it after hearing I had infected a friend. Finally I felt it from my roommate, who shamed me despite not being affected herself. I learned that shame during such difficult times is more complex than I once thought. Now, I have learned that internal shame is natural and may even be positive as it can force one to be more careful during pandemics, especially when considering the effects of their actions on loved ones. However when coming from others shame has a massive negative impact and at the end causes more harm than good.