Transitioning During a Pandemic to Maintain Mental Health

Introduction

Twelve graduate students and I are awaiting for our professor to arrive. “Good evening class,” my graduate class professor says as she scurries into class with a perplexed look on her face. She took a moment fiddling with her papers and paused for a moment. Everyone in the class wondered what had happened to cause her to be late and look so puzzled. She took a deep breath as we could tell she was contemplating telling us something--we just had no idea what. She started out by apologizing for her tardiness and explained she was coming from a faculty meeting.

She stated, “I technically can’t say anything right now, but how many of you are familiar with Zoom?” Some of us raised our hands, but the majority did not. I used Zoom previously in another class to complete an assignment. I was aware of its capabilities, but to say I was familiar with the software would not be accurate. But to be fair, why would most of us be familiar with an online video platform anyways?

She proceeded, “I suggest you register and make yourselves familiar with that platform because the way things are headed, we will probably move to online learning due to COVID-19.”

My classmates and I did not know how to process this new information. Whispers of “Isn’t it just like the flu?” and “That’s all a hoax, right?” lifted through the air. Rumors of this COVID-19 were gaining steam, but that virus was “over there.” It will eventually go away. Never in our wildest dreams did we expect the next few weeks to unfold as they did.

A week later, fellow students and I received an email from our university explaining the severity of COVID-19 and to better protect the students, all courses would move online for the next weeks leading up to spring break. Most students were thrilled to hear this news; Finally, an excuse not to physically be in class. Shifting off campus was the perfect time to catch up on things like school work, cleaning up the house, or even taking that extra nap when needed.

My friends and I thought about the benefits of not having to go to campus for class. We convinced ourselves that this change would last only a couple of weeks or perhaps one month. COVID-19 wasn’t coming over here, or so we thought.

During the first two weeks, things seemed a bit scary and exciting at the same time. Places of business began cutting back employee hours and hours of operations. Federal government employees began teleworking as most students were learning how to adjust to this new style of operating.

Spring break came, but it looked different. For those who looked forward to wet and wild memories in Miami or Ocean City found themselves on their living room couch. In the midst of spring break, my Historically Black College/University (HBCU), which is located in a mid-Atlantic state, announced that students would not be returning to in person classes for the rest of the semester. This announcement signaled that my university officially recognized the implications of the pandemic.

This chapter will detail the stories of three students from a mid-Atlantic HBCU who had similar introductions to the pandemic as described in the previous anecdote. Each student exhibited a characteristic of a mental health challenge¹. First, Erika, an undergraduate majoring in psychology, demonstrated traits of anxiety. Next, Tyler, a sophomore who transferred to this HBCU, was dealing with isolation. Finally, Sabrina, a graduate student and federal employee, experienced distress due to the racial unrest during the Summer 2020 and questions about the vaccine for COVID-19. With each anecdote about these three Black students, relevant literature will be presented, along with strategies for coping with anxiety, isolation, and distress will be discussed.