Guest contributor: Nina de Gramont

A Daunting Time: 13 UNCW students on being the Class of December, 2020

categories: Cocktail Hour

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A Daunting Time: 13 UNCW students on being the Class of December, 2020

Intro by Nina de Gramont

What is it like to graduate into this broken world? What are the prospects for a future in a pandemic? These are the question my students and I have been asking in the Fall semester of 2020.

 

As a professor of creative writing at the University of North Carolina Wilmington, one of my favorite classes to teach is Senior Seminar, where graduating students complete their theses and write an analysis of the work they’ve done while in our BFA program. We also talk about career opportunities, how to apply to grad school, and how to continue a creative life when there are bills to pay. The class ends with a public reading of the students’ work, to which friends and family from all over the state – sometimes from all over the country – travel.

 

In usual times, much of the class is taken up with my exhortations to be brave. In one class a few years ago, I showed base jumping videos to highlight the value and excitement of risk. It’s a time in their life, I tell them, when taking risks is appropriate and necessary.

 

But these aren’t usual times. Instead of sitting together in a classroom, we’re a collection of tiny heads on Zoom. There’s no public reading to look forward to, or even a graduation ceremony. Taking risks isn’t what it used to be. How do we create excitement about venturing forth into a world that’s ground to a halt?

 

Covid-19 was an unforeseen event for the students who graduated last May. But our December graduates entered this semester knowing what it would look like. They gritted their teeth and faced it anyway. I asked each of them to write about Senior Year in the Time of Corona Virus. When I read their dispatches I knew this would be the year I didn’t need to tell my students to be brave. They had already told themselves.

 

 

Joe Bowling

I have to look at the funny side of graduating college during the COVID-19 pandemic. After all there’s only one other option, and that’s just grim.

 

I’ve been going to college off and on—definitely more the former than the latter—for the last ten years. I’ve quit many times before for many reasons, but there’s something about this semester that I just don’t want to let go of. I find it hilarious on a cosmic scale that I’ve finally decided to buckle down and get school done just in time for the universe to bring everything to a screeching halt.

 

With so much instability in the world, it’s nice to have something that I can control. If I take these five classes, show up on time, and do all of the assigned work, I will graduate in December. Whatever that looks like now. Even in dark, divisive political and social times like these, I have the chance to do something that no one in my immediate family did before me. At the same time, it’s a bit like life has handed us lemons and asked us to make lasagna.

 

This is a huge struggle for me, but I am aware it’s a huge struggle for all of us. I draw upon my military training to get myself through. I have the benefit of perspective. We unite through struggle. We bond together and bear the burden not as individuals, but as a single cohesive unit. We will come through the other side of this stronger than we would if things were still going according to plan. I know this final semester is going to be a roller coaster ride full of ups, downs, and de-railings. Those are just the facts. In the face of them, I’ve made the conscious decision to carry on. To lift up my classmates when they’re down. And, most importantly, to step out of the grim reality of the pandemic and take some time to laugh—even if it’s just to keep from crying.

 

 

Jules Miller

 

It wasn’t meant to be like this, but graduating during COVID is exactly how you think it would be. Uncertainty does not begin to explain the depth of my feelings. I am missing people—people who were supposed to be at my graduation. It’s like making a fancy sandwich and biting into it only to get a mouthful of stale bread that, to top it all off, was secretly stowing mold inside. No meat, no cheese, no vegetables. Just mold and the ghost of what bread used to taste like.

 

The Zoom calls  have backed everyone into a quiet corner of politeness, afraid their voice might break audibly into someone else’s. We cannot overlap anymore. It is not the education I knew; it is not the education anyone expected when they entered this program with hopes of graduating on time.

 

It is, though, a different kind of normal. Private message chats between peers bring them closer without risk. Are we paying attention in class? No. Our brains are beyond it at this point. We crave connection and touch, and we hope another person will be there—will not be missing. We yearn for the end of this. We long to be unafraid to interrupt again. To overlap. To be heard. And we wait together.

 

Saifey Maynor

 

My life didn’t really begin till March. When quarantine started my boyfriend, who was visiting for spring break, got stuck here. We’d talked about cohabitation before and decided we weren’t ready for it, but when we realized that this all was never going to end he moved in. Having his support means not relying on my grandparents as much, which is great, but it also means I don’t really get the feeling of entering a new phase of my life that graduation is supposed to bring. It’s not like my personality is any less based around my grades than it always has been, but having another person sharing my bed has really put everything in perspective. There’s a man in my apartment and y’all want me to care about the world outside? Nope. People drive themselves crazy by caring about real shit right now, and I’m already crazy. I’m not falling for that.

 

I’m staying in the same apartment come spring, so it’s not like the landscape is changing. The only thing I’m losing is the ceremony, and I was not looking forward to the ceremony. I killed myself to keep my GPA such that I’d graduate with honors, and the stress of knowing I’d hear “cum laude” instead of “(x) cum laude” was making me want to kill myself again. Now, nobody knows my GPA is between a 3.5 and a 3.7 and none of y’all know me, so none of y’all care!

 

I’m still not “in” the “workforce,” I still don’t use subject lines in emails, I still don’t have an instagram or twitter or whatever young professionals are doing now. But I do have a man in my apartment. And I don’t have to cope with being an undergrad anymore. Think on that.

 

 

Kayla Benson

 

The smell of a fresh funnel cake at the county fair on a cool Autumn day. The feeling of shoulders brushing against one another at a crowded concert on a starry Summer night. The sound of sneakers squeaking on the floor of a polished college gymnasium. The taste of a perfectly cooked steak while catching up with old friends at a busy restaurant. The sight of returning students greeting one another with warm hugs and big smiles. I wish I could have known how much these miniscule moments would mean to me while I was living them.

 

I’m not going to lie and say I’ve dreamed of graduating college since I was a little girl. The most I’ve thought about graduation becoming a reality is in the Fall of 2020 when I realized what it will actually be like. There won’t be a building full of teary-eyed loved ones and soon-to-be alumni excited for the future. There won’t be big celebrations after a long list of names get called. No one will hug and take pictures as a group, or get to say their last goodbyes face to face. In the world we currently live in, graduation will mean sitting alone while names are announced through a tiny computer speaker.  Our diplomas will come in the mail weeks later. The darkness of a screen and the close of a laptop will represent four years of college completed. This is as good as it gets. At least, for now.

 

 

Chris Dixon

 

It feels daunting to be graduating in Winter 2020 but I’m still looking forward to it. I’ve been in college since 2010 and I simply want to move on with my life. I’ve had to deal with red tape, bad teachers, and personal struggles just to get to this point. I’m happy to be finally done with college so I can move on to the next chapter.

 

I dropped out of college for three years and gave up on ever being where I am now. Graduating felt like a pipe dream and I thought I should move on and get used to staying in my hometown. Eventually I got out of a dark place and got my life together on my own. I have been taking care of myself in spite of my many personal problems. I can’t stress how good it feels to be this close to graduating with everything I’ve gone through to get here. It’s not a dream anymore.

 

Yes, I know things are bad right now, and there’s not much I can do about it so, I won’t stress myself out over things I can’t control. I’ve seen a lot of bleak, depressing, borderline nihilistic opinions that everything is bad and isn’t going to improve and I don’t find that outlook to be helpful in an already bad situation. I’d rather take what comforts and good news I can and not let the world or news beat me down and put me in a negative state. It doesn’t feel good and it’s difficult to get out of.

 

 

Kaila Byram

 

Contrary to the popular belief, graduating during a pandemic is exciting! What could be better than wearing a blouse with sweatpants for a Zoom meeting? The pandemic is a great way to save money, save time, and get things done. Got fifteen minutes in between Zooms? Wash those dishes that have been sitting in the sink for two weeks. Need to catch up on laundry? You’ve got time, especially without driving that commute. Always wanted to move to Spain but couldn’t because there’s no work opportunities? Great. Well, actually, no. They won’t let Americans in now. Unsightly pimple on your upper lip? No worries! COVID has you covered! Just wear your prettiest mask and no one will know.

 

In all seriousness, this pandemic hasn’t been easy. I’ve had my ups and downs this year like everyone else but one thing I’m completely terrified of is not being able to get a job and support myself. I have $25,770.34 in student loan debt, a car payment, and other bills that need to be paid. I’m probably going to have to move in with my parents. The world is in a state of flux, just as my life will be when I graduate from college. The world is changing, and there’s nothing anyone can do to stop it. What choice do I have but to roll with the punches and grow with whatever this world is turning into?

 

Chadstity Copeland

 

It’s been a daunting time. I’ve been in a slump that heavily affected my mental health and it’s been a struggle to seriously focus on anything. Early on I had a bit of optimism, when I could mull over how things might improve by summer. Things didn’t improve, and as my final semester crawled closer, I decided to ignore the pandemic. Not to become oblivious, but not to let it dampen my mind.

 

I decided to pour my anxieties into what I loved most: reading, writing and music. I consumed so much K pop, rock, alternative/ nu metal and even American pop albums that it became a pseudo soundtrack for my creative writing. This music fueled me to write more and more about my own fictional worlds. Instead of lingering on the troubles of the real world, I  turned toward an outlet that not only improved my mental health, but also made me fall in love with my creative work again. This pandemic made me reflect on how I’m in charge of my creativity, and with graduation on the horizon, it gives me reassurance that I’m in charge of my own destiny too.

 

Jessika Hicks

 

Although I don’t know anyone who’s had COVID-19, this virus alters my life every day. Despite the isolation I know I am not alone. This pandemic is leading the future in a new direction.

 

I haven’t had a normal school year since I transferred to UNC Wilmington. First, hurricane Florence devastated our school. I was forced to stay home in Charlotte for a month. The following year hurricane Dorian hit and the school issued a mandatory evacuation. I was so worried about how long Dorian would be last and how much destruction it would cause.

 

Dorian was nothing compared to Florence, but then came COVID-19. I spent most of my summer watching TikTok to try and distract myself. The videos made me laugh so hard I cried, but mostly, they inspired me. I saw so many people finding hobbies and passions and starting small businesses. My best friend chose to pursue a Masters degree; quarantine gave her the self-reflection and space to make this decision. I’m realizing the importance of slowing down and not pushing myself too hard. I started drawing again for the first time in years.

 

Now I’m back on campus, but it’s not the same. The increasing COVID clusters scare me. We’re all doing our best to wear masks and stay safe. I feel like my senior year has been stolen; all my classes are on Zoom and I miss interacting in person. With the current job market I’m scared I won’t find work in the career I want. It makes me anxious to see how COVID-19 shapes my future. I’m focusing on finding what and who makes me happy while trying to remain hopeful.

 

 

Will Robertson

 

I’d love to hear the clink of a glass with my classmates, but how are we supposed to truly cheers to graduation and all of our accomplishments six feet apart or over a virtual meeting? Usually, there are people to blame for the madness in our world, but we don’t have that. I’m forced to accept the reality that this world doesn’t work the way I thought it did—it’s subject to change and about as reliable as toilet paper sitting on the shelf when the virus was starting its engine.

 

All of us students at UNCW have had to be extremely adaptable these past years, dealing with fallen trees and cancelled classes because Wilmington seems to be a hurricane’s favorite spot. We’ve become accustomed to interruptions, but now are pushed to a limit that no meteorologist could have predicted. It takes time for our city to repair from storms, but it takes even more time for our world to get through a pandemic.

 

Especially in the Creative Writing program, I feel like we are a community—all trying to be the best writers we can be. The privilege of being on campus with my talented classmates has been, for the most part, taken away. I never would have imagined that my last semester would mean my eyes always fixed on a screen.

 

What keeps me optimistic is looking at this time in our lives as an international meditation, and hopefully, once everyone is safe again, we can go out into the world refreshed with an uncovered smile—healthy, inspired, and ready to share our minds with the world.

 

 

Kalya Greene

 

Graduating during a pandemic is surreal. The near constant terror from the first month has dulled into a general blanket of misery and fear. School feels ridiculous. Everything in me hangs heavy, but it seems that all anyone wants is normalcy. A smile and a job well done. It’s hard for me to summarize everything in my head when it comes to this topic. I am sad, anxious, afraid, but mostly tired.

 

I feel as if writing my true feelings will be perceived as negative. I have no “It will get better” or “We’ll get back to normal soon” for anybody. I’m graduating in December, and I don’t know how to feel about it. I don’t think I’ll notice until deep into January when I feel the absence of that unyielding structure that has been omnipresent in my life since grade school. All I have right now is hope that I’ll find a way to exist in this world, while I’m here.

 

 

Mel Newcity

 

I imagined my final semester very differently when I returned to college. At twenty, I had dropped out due to financial complications, and I worked full time in various offices until I could resume my courses part time. For five years, I slowly chipped away at my degree. As my younger classmates graduated, I watched with anticipation barely outmatching my envy. Surely, I thought, my labor would culminate into a celebration of patience, diligence, and perseverance. I imagined a thesis reading surrounded by friends and family, flowing robes, and a final product I could send off for publication.

 

Graduating during COVID means family and friends can’t travel. I have no desire to pick up my graduation gown. My thesis is as exhausted as I am. I cannot fully express my disappointment with the reality of my final semester during the pandemic. I can only depict today. This morning, I sit on the porch before my next virtual meeting, reflecting on the poets who’ve influenced me over the years. A pair of cardinals perches on a nearby telephone wire. The autumn breeze rolls in just as it did last year and the year before. My cat paws at the sliding door. Each moment brings about its own reason for commemoration. If I pare back my expectations, my final semester isn’t too far off from what I imagined. I may be tired, overwhelmed, and bouncing on the emotional spectrum, but I have my health, my pen, and reason to celebrate.

 

Sarah George

 

Being a college student during COVID is, in a word, difficult. I feel a bit as though I’ve been robbed of a truly comprehensive, full final semester here at the university I have grown to love. Not to mention the worry about a graduation ceremony (or the potential lack thereof). When quarantine began last March, I had no idea things would get this bad, and as it dragged on I became more and more depressed and unmotivated. Depression is something I struggle with anyway, so world events exacerbated it. While I was at home, I would just get up to eat and go to work, and the rest of the time I didn’t even feel like leaving my bed. At first I thought I could turn it into a good opportunity to get writing done, but I didn’t write hardly anything at all, which made me feel even more like a failure. I was completely miserable.

 

Once campus finally opened up this semester, coming back to UNCW helped my mental state considerably. I was able to get out a bit and see my dear friends again. COVID scares on campus were worrisome, but now it seems that we are on the right track and will finish just fine. Getting back to a routine has helped me get back to writing, too. So, really, I’m doing better every day. I can’t wait until this whole mess is just a bad chapter in a history book. I’ll be able to look back on it and be grateful for my close friends who helped me so much during all this. I feel as though graduation itself will be a blur; something considered only long after it’s over.

 

Kristen Dorsey

 

Years ago, when my high school friends headed to college, I got on a plane to Parris Island, South Carolina, to USMC boot camp. My four-year military tour had less to do with patriotism (although I am proud to have served) and more to do with 1980s Reagonomics: my family couldn’t afford to put four kids through college.

 

I don’t regret my service. I traveled overseas, got physically and emotionally strong, and learned skills that resulted in ten exciting years in the Intelligence field within the Department of Defense. The Marine Corps gave me the discipline needed to run my own business after I left the DoD.

 

In 2017, I took a risk: I moved to Wilmington, and enrolled at UNCW as a full-time student in the Creative Writing Department.

 

As I approach my later-in-life graduation, I seesaw back and forth between excitement and terror. I let go of everything I used to be at an age where many people find new beginnings—and that’s exciting.

 

However, like all my classmates, I’m joining a workforce where almost half the adult population is underemployed or unemployed. Add that to 2020 statistics from the National Bureau of Economic Research that found that workers over age forty are only about half as likely to get a job offer as younger workers.

 

Sometimes I lose my breath, thinking, “What have I done?” But writing, I’ve discovered, gives voice to my life experiences in a deeply satisfying way. There’s no going back, anyway, and while this is an unprecedented ordeal in our history, I’ve been through tougher times.