Marquette University Intimations Project

Anonymous

My parents dropped me off at the airport on the morning of January 9^th, and I cried. I was afraid to leave home for 4 months. It would have been the longest I was away from my family. I knew going to Washington D.C. for 4 months, to work and take classes there would be an incredible opportunity, but I was still scared. Once we landed in D.C. though, I knew I was home, and I knew I would have to be forcibly pulled out of our house in that Capitol Hill neighborhood when it came time to go back to Wisconsin. I loved it there and I didn’t want to leave. I know the 22 other students in the house felt the same way. We’re in the nation’s capital, we have incredible internships, we only get 4 months, there’s nothing in the world that could ruin this, except a global pandemic.

Marquette had told us that because we were in our own little bubble, or own little house in a quiet D.C. neighborhood, that we could stay if we wanted to. Meanwhile the students back home on campus were being told to pack their things and leave. I wasn’t leaving. I loved it there and I wanted to stay. We still didn’t know much about COVID-19, what it did or what it could do. We just knew people were getting sick, and some of them died. We were being told that we’d be fine. By the news, the President, Ted Cruz. We’re in our early 20s, only the elderly died, and maybe if you had a preexisting condition, you’d die too, but otherwise don’t stress because you’ll be fine. 

One of my roommates only lived a couple hours from D.C., so a flight home for her was no big deal. She had been going home often anyway. She left quite early, but not before she ordered 20 cans of Italian Wedding soup to prepare for what, in her mind, was the impending apocalypse. Once we were given the option to stay or leave, she jumped at the opportunity. Before we knew it, she was gone. She left us with a kitchen full of food that was quite representative of her weekly Instacart grocery splurge and a box filled with 5 pairs of shoes she ordered from ASOS, all of which she decided she didn’t like and couldn’t be bothered to return. She was a spender from a seemingly wealthy family. Nonetheless, she left the house first in a panic and took her privilege with her. A couple others from the house had decided to leave as well. It was 3 people I believe, including my roommate. The rest of us in the house had decided to stay, it was still our choice. 

Myself and my other two roommates had decided thus far that we were all staying. A couple Congress members had tested positive, and the Capital had gone into lockdown. Most of the students didn’t have internships to go to. Everyone from my office was away at a trade show in Las Vegas that week, so they had no idea the extent of the craziness that was unfolding in D.C. Our apartment was definitely bigger with one girl gone, now it was just 3 of us. Older roomate was starting to get sick. She had a slight sore throat, fatigue and headaches. At that point we didn’t know much about the symptoms of COVID, so we just assumed she had a cold or flu. Every day it got worse. Eventually she had a fever and couldn’t get out of bed. One of the nights I was out with a few of the other students, probably at our favorite local bar. I got a text from older roommate around midnight. She woke up in a panic, it had hit her that she might be sick with the virus and that her life might actually be in danger. She also had a preexisting condition which didn’t help her fear. She told us she thinks she should go home. Luckily, her parents had already been planning on visiting the coming weekend. Her mom called both the CDC in D.C. and in their hometown, but neither would test her for COVID because her symptoms weren’t bad enough. Would she be okay? They’re saying it’s really contagious, what if I get it too? If she had decided to leave, that meant younger roommate would probably follow, and after a day she did. It was like that in most of the apartments. It’s hard to watch your roommates and housemates all leave one by one. I started to feel like maybe I should too. The apartment felt weird without them. 

I remember, a couple days before they both left, I had taken a walk to go call my mom. I loved walking around our neighborhood, and I did it quite often. We were two blocks from the Capital and all the other beautiful buildings that held our country’s governing institutions. I remember crying and not being able to stop. I was scared for Noelle, I was scared for myself, for my family, but most of all I was scared that I was losing the best experience of my life to a stupid virus. Deciding whether to leave or stay was one of the hardest decisions I’ve ever had to make. The pros and cons didn’t matter because ultimately, I knew nothing about what was happening to the world. I was thinking selfishly, in complete ignorance. I’d be sad if I left and sad if I stayed. I’ve never in my life felt that level of uncertainty before. It was a paralyzing feeling. I’m not sure if it makes me feel better or worse that nearly everyone else in the world felt some level of similar uncertainty and fear. Maybe it makes me feel a little more seen. I was losing out on something great, but so was everyone else to some extent.  

I told my mom I was staying. Wait, I’m not sure now. A few others in the house are staying, I want to stay. What if they shut down the airports and I can’t get home? Will it get that bad? Maybe I should just go. This line of questioning was constant for two days. Finally, I told my mom to book me a flight. I had 4 days to pack up all my things. I was terribly upset. But hey, I was able to get a flight, I made it home safely, everyone I love made it out alive. A little over a year later, the world is different sure, but my life is relatively the same. I can always go back to D.C., and I plan on it. My uncertainty that week was valid, but I made it through. I wish I didn’t feel selfish for saying that. I wish it wasn’t selfish to say that.