T
he music is loud and the room is
dark, lit up only by banal string
lights dangling on the side of the
wall. There are guys playing beer pong in a
brighter part of the house, showing off and
making drunken noises. In the tiny kitchen
where the counter is filled with red cups and
variations of alcohol, sorority girls throw up
in the sink as their sisters kindly hold up their
hair behind them.
You are surrounded by a room full of people,
kissing and grinding against each other. Your
friends are already drunk and dancing on the
platform with some frat boy you have never
met before. You try to vibe along with the beat
— a rap song that you hear on the radio all the
time but don’t know the name of. Even though
you want to head home, you are not sure if
walking the streets alone at 12 a.m. is the best
option for a girl.
That’s when your eyes meet. Another pair of
anxious yet curious eyes across the dance floor
catch your gaze, longing for comfort in a crowd
of strangers. You reach a tacit agreement and
unconsciously move toward the door together.
After a quick self-introduction, he offers to
walk you back to your house, indulging in the
get-to-know-you questions and even a little
banter. Before you part, you exchange phone
numbers and a kiss.
T
his would be a common, cheesy
scene of “love at first sight” from
any typical 2000s romantic comedy
movie. Of course, this has not happened to me,
or anyone that I know for that matter — though
young women have plenty of awkward experi-
ences with men who suddenly start grooving
next to them at a party, only to ask for their
number.
Nevertheless, the media has always
placed emphasis on the initial encounters of
intimate relationships. Two complete strang-
ers are expected to be magically brought to-
gether by serendipitous incidents: bonding
over The Smiths in an elevator ride to work,
meeting in a local travel bookshop in a for-
eign country, kissing a stranger to prevent
an embarrassing confrontation with a past
crush.
While these scripted scenes inevitably dic-
tate our expectations of romance, I couldn’t
help but wonder how realistic they are in our
ordinary lives. As technology becomes more
integrated into our social life, are the oh-so
desired “organic” encounters possible? What
is the likelihood that we will find “the one”
amid the rise of COVID-19 cases on campus
and enforced social distancing protocols?
The most recent data shows that even in a
pandemic, young people are not giving up on
their chance at romance. Dating apps owned by
Match Group —Tinder, Bumble, Hinge, etc. —
have all experienced a direct growth in revenue
since March 2020. College students have also
become more creative with the ways they build
intimate relationships, with people going as
far as designing a Zoom dating site or a match-
ing survey algorithm to battle social isolation.
While the creations of these technologies were
well-intentioned, many users complained of a
lack of success due to the short nature of online
conversation.
I could easily see why. As someone who suf-
fers from extreme Zoom fatigue and online so-
cial anxiety, I have always had my doubts about
building meaningful relationships through
technology. However, my inner romantic of-
fered a shimmer of hope, peeking through a
crack in my skeptical heart and prompting me
to properly investigate my questions. In turn, I
spoke to five people regarding their experience
with dating apps, long-distance relationships
and chasing love during a pandemic.
T
he first person I spoke to was LSA
senior Emma Carter, who met her
girlfriend, Annie, on Hinge. On the
Sunday morning of our interview, I rolled out
of bed and rushed to Zoom. Emma arrived at
our meeting a few minutes later in a gray zip-
up hoodie, much more awake and refreshed
than I was.
I started off with the basics, asking about
why she got the application and what she
wanted from it. Emma explained that she first
downloaded Hinge when studying abroad for a
semester in Barcelona. She was never intend-
ing on finding a relationship through the app,
as she is “not a huge fan of online dating,” but
instead downloaded it just to meet new people.
When asked about why she selected Hinge
over other popular apps, she explained, “I
wasn’t really looking for a relationship neces-
sarily, but I don’t like Tinder. It kind of just im-
plies a hookup and that’s not what I am really
interested in.”
While the two apps belong to the same par-
ent company, Match Group, Tinder and Hinge
serve entirely different purposes. Whereas
Tinder is mostly known as the “hookup app,”
especially among college students, Hinge is
for people who look for a deeper connection.
Nevertheless, the two share a similar demo-
graphic, with their core users being millen-
nials ranging from the age of 18 to people in
their 20s.
“Hinge is a really good one because it’s not
just about how a person looks,” Emma elabo-
rated. “On Tinder, it can just be like ‘hey you’re
cute.’ That’s how the conversation starts and
there’s not much to talk about with that. (On
Hinge) when there are these preliminary
questions, it is easier to generate more organic
conversations about something real.”
Though Emma has always been a little skep-
tical about dating apps, a conversation with her
dad’s coworker completely changed her per-
spective. He told her that if he were a young
person in this pandemic, he would “100% use
dating apps.” The ongoing COVID-19 pandem-
ic forces people into quarantine and smaller
social circles, giving way to intense feelings of
loneliness and isolation. Public health officials
have even recommended wearing a mask when
engaging in sexual activities with individuals
outside one’s social pod.
However, the forced absence of physical
contact and need for social distancing has also
hindered people from forming serious rela-
tionships. When asked about how she makes
efforts to maintain her relationship in this
pandemic while protecting those around her,
Emma shared her own experience.
“I think it’s definitely respectable to sus-
pend online dating during the pandemic right
now, though I don’t know if we could suspend
meeting new people forever,” she explained.
She additionally pointed out the importance
of being socially-aware and transparent in her
and Annie’s communication.
“I am not necessarily freaked about get-
ting COVID-19,” Emma said. “I am freaked out
about spreading it. (Annie and I) are working
together really well to minimize any risks of
doing that. At the end of the day, we don’t see
many people.”
Emma told me that despite having found a
serious partner through a dating app, she re-
mains skeptical about the effectiveness of these
technologies. She is convinced that if she and
Annie met in person instead of through Hinge,
they still would have been together.
“In person personalities play a huge role
in attraction to individuals, and I don’t think
you can get that through these apps,” Emma
explained. “I didn’t think I was going to find
someone I like this much from online dating.
I don’t like the idea that much, but it worked
out.”
T
he next person who I talked to was
LSA senior Kate Kachmer, who is
one of Emma’s housemates. How-
ever, unlike Emma, her experience with Hinge
was not at all successful. Kate felt a sense of a
fear of missing out and loneliness while quar-
antining with her siblings, who are both in seri-
ous relationships. With the constant romance
in front of her face and the future of socializing
appearing uncertain, Kate decided to finally
give dating apps a shot.
However, after setting up her profile, she
found Hinge’s set of personal trivia questions
insufficient and inauthentic. Like icebreakers
before a meeting, Hinge’s set of profile prompts
were created to spark conversations, with
T.M.I.-style prompts like “a shower thought
that I recently had.”
“Anyone could look through a list of ques-
tions and send it to their friends and ask ‘what’s
a funny response to put,’” Kate explained. “It’s
more like who has the best one-liner they can
put in response to a prompt and make someone
like them.”
The Michigan Daily — michigandaily.com
14 — Wednesday, October 21, 2020
statement
All you need is love
— and a phone
BY LOLA YANG, STATEMENT CORRESPONDENT
statement
ILLUSTRATIONS BY EILEEN KELLY
Read more at
MichiganDaily.com