Lessons from a freshman

Remote staff writer JR Herman has spent the last seven+ months quarantining in her house, and she’s still sane enough to tell the tale. Continue reading to explore the ins and outs of her quirky quarantine life, as well as how it has changed her for the better.

Over the past seven months, not counting daily walks in my neighbourhood, I’ve ventured out into the world four times, the first time to pick up my senior yearbook, the second and third times to go to a dress fitting (ironically, for a graduation which ended up getting cancelled), and the fourth time to pick up my high school diploma, drive-thru style. It has certainly been an odd experience staying home for over half a year, especially since I’m a very social person, but it’s something that I’ve somewhat gotten used to — I hate wearing a mask, so I usually prefer to just stay home.

The COVID quarantine life has changed me, but not in a bad way — first off, it’s given me the rare opportunity to do things I never had the time to do. Before COVID, I was always rushing around, going to school, participating in weekend activities, or going out to eat, but once the lockdown began in March, I realised I had so much more time on my hands. I started gardening, spending more time outside taking walks, watching TV series that friends had recommended to me but never had time to watch, and even learned how to cook and put on makeup like a pro, thanks to hours of YouTube tutorials. I even decided to start learning Egyptian hieroglyphs over the summer … because why not? Even more importantly than allowing me to take up new hobbies and learn new skills and life hacks, quarantine has taught me a new lifestyle, one which I believe will continue to impact my life, even after the pandemic ends and life returns to some semblance of (non-masking wearing) normalcy. My COVID quarantine journey has had five major parts (so far).

Part 1 — Resilience (chipped nail polish): Early in the pandemic, there were times when I didn’t know how I could survive staying at home any longer. My path to resilience, strangely, began with nail polish. The weekend before school ended and lockdowns were implemented, I got my nails painted. A month later, in April, the rest of my high school senior year had just been cancelled, and I realised I wouldn’t be able to see my friends for the foreseeable future. Prom was cancelled; graduation was in jeopardy — everything I had looked forward to was going down the drain, and rapidly. I was tired of Zooming, COVID cases were increasing every day, and it looked like quarantine would be lasting months, not weeks. I was sick of being home and sick of seeing people only online; I was pretty much sick of everything. Then I looked down and saw my nail polish had started to chip. I don’t even wear nail polish often, and when I do wear it, I never care when it starts to chip. But that time, it was different. The nail polish served as a reminder of the pre-COVID world, and I was clinging to the last vestiges of normalcy I had, in between depressing Zoom classes. I couldn’t stand what the chipping represented — my life (and the world) was falling apart; I couldn’t have my nail polish fall apart too, so I repainted my nails. I kept messing up, and it took an embarrassingly long time, but when I was done, my nails were completely blue. Although it certainly wasn’t a good paint job by any means, it served an important purpose for me; I felt more in control of my life. I realised that when things in my life metaphorically chipped, I could metaphorically repaint (or at least try to). Things would be OK, even if the paint job wasn’t perfect. The next time my nails started to chip, I didn’t mind. I had the confidence that I could handle the world’s insanity (even with chipped nails).

Part 2 — Acceptance (c’est la vie): Perhaps the most important step in my quarantine journey was learning to accept the unexpected, which admittedly sounds sort of cheesy, but for me, was extremely important. I’ve always been a Type-A planner. I’ve never liked last-minute changes, and yet, as all of us know, COVID is one of the ultimate plan wreckers. I had written down the date for graduation in my planner, over a year in advance, and pre-pandemic, every day after school I would cross off the corresponding square in my calendar, in order to count down until the big day. Graduation was the one event that mattered to me most — in my mind, it was like a magical day of closure, the culmination of 12 years with my friends at a school I had attended since first grade. Like all graduating seniors, I wanted to see everyone one last time, take pictures, walk across the stage to get my diploma, and party afterwards. It would be our last hurrah before college and all of the changes that would come before we went our separate ways. If I had known in December last year that we would not have a graduation, I would have been devastated. But the day of July 26, when the “graduation is cancelled” email arrived an hour and a half before graduation was supposed to happen (and after I had already spent two hours putting on makeup), I casually told my parents, “Yeah, so they just cancelled graduation,” as if it wasn’t that big of a deal to me. To be honest, it wasn’t just an act. I was surprised and annoyed (or, as I told my friends, “super salty”), but surprisingly, I wasn’t that upset — graduation no longer seemed as big of a deal as it had been to me. I knew I had survived five and a half months at home, and so many previous plans had already been made and broken. Life went on. So life would continue to go on, with or without graduation. 

Part 3 — Improvising, Adapting, and Embracing Self (sometimes a “who cares” attitude helps): Even though we didn’t get the ceremony we were supposed to have, I was determined to make it memorable. After all, it would be my fourth appearance into the world since March, and I wanted to capitalise on it. While some members of the senior GroupMe were crying and/or ranting about the last-minute cancellation, I texted saying I was going to show up to the drive-thru diploma pickup wearing a bathing suit. This wasn’t a traditional graduation, so why should I have to dress traditionally? I wanted a graduation to remember, and graduating in a bathing suit sounded pretty wild and memorable (and it worked with the winged eyeliner I spent so much time putting on), so I did it. It was a decision I made on a whim, but it made graduation funnier and more enjoyable for me. It was also a very freeing experience, one which I would not have had the confidence to pull off pre-quarantine. Pre-quarantine, I cared much more about what people thought of me. I would have been too afraid to break the mold, even if I wanted to — I would have shown up to the drive-thru wearing a white dress. But because of quarantine, I’ve been by myself much more than I ever have been, and as a result, I’ve become more comfortable with being myself; I’m not afraid of being judged or criticised for embracing my quirky ideas.

Part 4 — Appreciation (from friends to fajitas): Due to quarantine, I have a much greater appreciation for the little things in life. I never thought I’d go seven months without seeing friends (in person), walking down the hallways, or going to the library. These were just normal, everyday activities, so I never appreciated them like I should have. I haven’t eaten fajitas, shoe-string fries or perhaps most importantly, crêpes, since March. I definitely took these everyday joys for granted, and now having gone without for so long, I know when I have them again, I’ll truly savor every bite, just like how I’ll appreciate every moment when I see my friends again, in person (or, in some cases, in person for the first time). Greater appreciation for my friends has also encouraged me to be a better friend myself — I’m much more comfortable opening up to friends in texts as well as phone calls (something which I never did pre-quarantine).

Part 5 — Inner Peace (ditching the stress): Quarantine has also allowed me to become a much more “chill” person. I used to get more stressed about things than I do now, but I’ve really learned to “go with the flow” and not take things too seriously. I’ve managed to survive/thrive staying home for seven months. With that achievement under my belt, I feel like I can pretty much do anything the world has to throw at me.