For the long stretch of this fall, the weather was unusually warm even for the inland region of Southern California. Day after day the outside temperature would exceed 30 °C in the afternoon hours, and we wondered whether we would be roasting this year’s Thanksgiving turkey with air conditioning cranked up.
Then came the hailstorm – pea-sized bits of ice catapulted by the gusty wind, pelting the windowpane so hard that my cat went to hide under the bed. Dry weather returned after the drizzly weekend, and the sun is shining warm and bright again. Once outside, however, you quickly realize there’s chill in the air and the breeze that gently sways tree branches has a certain bite to it.
The presidential election came and went amidst much uncertainty. COVID-19 pandemic is partially to blame (as I wrote a couple of months ago), but more significantly, the bitter ideological contestation and naked antagonism displayed in every significant public forum – during the debates, on social media, and in news coverage. The election process, muddied by the accusations of wrong-doing, conspiracy theories and general mistrust from both sides of the political spectrum, was the nail in the coffin. While media outlets have called Biden the winner, Trump has not conceded (though he admitted that the transition to the new administration must begin).
So we wait, uncertain whether to rejoice or protest, until someone tells us definitively who the President of the United State will be for the next four years. But then, such clarity may never materialize. The trust in the democratic process has been shaken to its core, and whichever way the final call goes, almost one half of the country will not acknowledge the legitimacy of their national leader. The new President is given the impossible task of leading a sharply divided nation out of momentous problems we face.
Glimmer of Hope...or Not
Monday after the U.S. election, the world found a glimmer of hope: they got the vaccine! Pfizer, beating out other companies vying to develop the first effective COVID-19 vaccine, announced that the early test results showed their vaccine to be more than 90% effective. Some of my friends started texting immediately, “dancing in joy” for the bright news, a rare occurrence these days.
But then, we eventually got to read the fine prints: scientists are advising caution not to “hype up” this early report. Pfizer is yet to produce long term safety data; it is also unclear how long the effects of this two-dose vaccine will last and for whom. Even if everything goes as perfectly in the remainder of the approval process as the pharmaceutical giant hopes, it will take time to manufacture and administer millions of doses to the general public. In addition, this vaccine must be stored at a sub-zero temperature at all time to maintain its potency, a logistical nightmare! By some analysis, it would be the end of the year 2021, if we are lucky, before the pandemic is more or less under control.
As we wait for the vaccine, the COVID cases are still rising everywhere. The county of San Bernardino, where I live and work, has been classified as “Tier 1” by the State of California’s reopening scheme, subject to tightest restrictions that keep schools and nonessential businesses closed. Ordinary working families in this economically disadvantaged region have already sustained significant damages already; the question is: can we withstand six more months of this without breaking our communal back? Not only that many will never fully recover from the economic setbacks precipitated by the pandemic; it is hard to imagine the magnitude of negative outcomes caused by lost opportunities for education and socialization that many children and youths have already experienced and will continue to experience in coming months.
Closer to Home
In the midst of these nation- and world-wide uncertainties, the president of my university announced his retirement at the end of the academic year. It follows a flurry of resignations by upper-administrators, sizable staff furloughs and terminations that took place in recent months.
I’m sure he has his reasons for this announcement, and I wish him and his wife well in their retirement. At the same time, it is undeniable that the change of leadership in this particular moment exacerbates the sense of insecurity about our institution’s future, especially as the university waits to determine the possibility of reopening our campus for the spring semester.
The whispering around the campus is that we would not be allowed to bring students back to campus in the spring, and that another semester of online instruction will alienate more students, with devastating effects on the university’s finances, both short and long term. Even as we try to muster a measure of cautious optimism, we all remember what happened last summer – when we were told in the last minute that we had to keep our campus closed – and are bracing for another semester of online teaching.
Since this is normally the time of the semester when students start to look happily toward their Thanksgiving break, I asked students in my class about their plans for the Thanksgiving break. A few said they were going to travel to see their families or to spend time in the mountains or on the beach; the overwhelming majority shrugged their shoulders and responded, “just staying home.” Under the circumstances, that is probably the sensible thing to do this holiday season. At the same time, it seems to me like the sign of what to expect for the next few months: we must wait a while longer for the day when we brave the cold wind and step outside into the world again.
[This article was originally published on Japan News (Nov 19, 2020)]
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