Like millions of college students across the country, I packed up my things, lugged my mini fridge to the car, and said goodbye to Redding Hall, room 583. I took one last look at the bare walls that used to be filled with pictures and posters and the tile floor that had a fluffy pink rug. I decided I wanted a picture, and so I placed my two plants by the window. Although my room is empty and this chapter is closing, for me, the plants represent that life goes on, this too shall pass, and we as people will grow. The emotions were a rollercoaster. I cried with my best friends, fondly looked back on the memories I made, and when I was strong enough to do so, I was hopeful that better days would soon come. 

I’ve grown up with the unhealthy notion that in certain cases, my emotions and feelings aren’t validated, simply because someone has it worse. While I try to steer clear of this way of thinking, I can’t help but think of just how blessed I am, especially in a time like this. With more time at home, I’ve been able to talk to my grandmother in Bosnia more often, and when I asked her what she thought about the pandemic, her response was simple; “I have food, water, electricity, and a safe place to live; and I’m not worried about snipers and grenades like I was 28 years ago during the Bosnian genocide.” While I’m spending my days in quarantine baking cheesecake, watching Netflix, and catching up on biology lectures, Palestinians too are fighting the coronavirus in cramped refugee camps and college students in lower income communities in America are having trouble finding resources and a quiet place to work to finish their spring semester. So while I’m frustrated that I can’t enjoy the last moments of my freshman year and am annoyed with living everyday in uncertainty of what the pandemic holds, I’ve come to realize that my version of quarantine is a luxury for millions of people around the world. The questions that were originally racing through my head were, “Would I be forced to end my freshman year early?” and “What would happen to classes?” For others less fortunate, I can only imagine what their thoughts were. 

The COVID-19 pandemic has already taken too many lives, and unfortunately, is going to take many more. However, it has taught me just how much I truly have, and how much I took for granted. We tend to not realize how good something is until it is taken away from us. When the pandemic eventually ends, I hope that no one takes a handshake, class, or worry less trip to the grocery store for granted. While I may be sad, confused, and at times frustrated, I’m taking the time to reflect and show gratitude. This has been a lesson for all of humanity. One that is teaching us to slow down and enjoy.

– Selma Cemerlic