Remote Classes and a Quiet Campus

There is an active discussion among faculty members about their first week of classes teaching remotely. Some are finding it very challenging to manage a series of discussions in real time with “breakout sessions” and the like, while others miss the immediate cues a teacher gets from watching the reactions of students right there, face-to-face, in a classroom. Many of my colleagues express concern about students who live in places where it’s inconvenient to join at regular class times, and we all worry about those whose internet connections aren’t robust enough for the material one wants to present. But after one week, I am very pleased to say that most of the folks I’ve heard from are feeling more optimistic than when we started. That includes the students who have been surveyed already in a few of the classes. There will be bumps in the road, to be sure, and there will also be happy surprises that increase learning beyond what we would have thought possible.

Yesterday I chatted with some students on Foss Hill on what was a beautiful spring day.

People were keeping their distance, but still we managed to commiserate about our lonely campus during what should be a very exciting time of year. We dreamed of better days to come and urged one another to stay healthy.

Yesterday, I was down at the boathouse, but the crew teams are scattered around the country. Athletes accustomed to perfect timing together must wait until it’s safe to be in the same boat. The river was beautiful, but the quiet was sad. We are all in the same boat, one of hunkering down.

 

A Quiet Citrin Field from Pine Street
Sunrise as seen from in front of Boger Hall

 

Early morning, College Row

Today, Kari and I walked by the tennis courts, into Indian Hill cemetery, and then around the athletic fields, the farm and back toward campus. We saw just a few other walkers, and we waved and kept our distance. I wished I could hear the chanting of the softball and lacrosse teams as they celebrated teammates, could marvel at frisbee players leaping in air, or could watch baseball in good company just behind the library. Instead, I was at my computer writing to all the spring Wesleyan athletes. We must be patient. And we will be.

Stay safe, stay healthy. And, please, stay in touch!