7-Opinion
F
our weeks into the new
school
year,
the
word
burnout may seem like
an inappropriate term to describe
the typical University of Michigan
student. The transition back to
in-person school from online classes
and extracurriculars, however, is
challenging. In the past year, clubs
and classes often were less structured
and offered much more flexibility
with asynchronous lectures, open-
note exams and forgiving attendance
policies.
“Last year while everything was
online, I decided to join a couple
more clubs and start working in
a research lab,” LSA junior Alexa
Samani said. “I felt that I had enough
time to do everything I wanted to;
however, now that mostly everything
is in person, I feel very overwhelmed
with the amount of time taken up by
classes and extracurriculars.”
Asynchronous classes allowed
some students to create their own
schedules and, occasionally, take
online exams open-note. While
asynchronous options were often
necessary to adapt to the changing
needs of students and professors
during the COVID-19 pandemic,
these classes may have caused some
students to go over a year without
practicing their organizational or
study skills. Similarly, some clubs
and other extracurriculars were less
demanding during the pandemic
since they often consisted of entirely
virtual participation. While the
return of structure and normalcy
is a relief to many students and
faculty, the sudden change may put
students at higher risk of burning
out. Taking the steps to recognize the
challenges of returning to campus
and preventing burnout before it
happens can help students transition
with much less stress.
Burnout can be defined as “a
negative emotional, physical and
mental
reaction
to
prolonged
study that results in exhaustion,
frustration, lack of motivation and
reduced ability in school.” Once
you reach the point of burnout, it is
difficult to jump back into a positive
and productive mindset. While
it may feel as though the normal,
busy routine of college life shouldn’t
necessarily cause burnout, students
need to give themselves time to
adjust or they will risk overextending
themselves.
It has been over a year since
everything was in person — as
we transition back, every facet
of student life feels intensified.
“Starting summer job and internship
recruitment in person is much more
stressful because you are constantly
around other people talking about
it and comparing experiences,”
explained
LSA
junior
Hannah
Shipley.
Some students may be more
prone to burnout than others due to
other compounding factors, causing
students that do struggle to question
the validity of their experiences.
“The monotony of having to be on
Zoom and my laptop for over eight
hours a day every weekday for the
last few semesters made me feel
mentally fatigued and burnt out
much quicker than I had ever felt
before,” LSA junior Ali Abdalla said.
“Having in-person classes forces me
to go outside and see the sun on my
way to class and generally motivates
me to study or do work outside
of my house.” It is important that
even students who do not expect
burnout from in-person learning
understand the stress others may be
experiencing. The entire University
of Michigan community should be
empathetic toward those who are
struggling and take steps to prevent
burnout.
On the surface level, there are
basic steps students can take to
prevent burnout. These include
making time for enjoyable activities
and socializing, exercising, getting
outside, developing relationships with
professors, avoiding procrastination,
improving time management and
maintaining a work-life balance.
More specifically, however, it is
essential that leaders of organizations
reevaluate the structures and systems
that existed prior to COVID-19 to
allow students the time to readjust.
Continuing to offer flexibility and
empathy for members is essential
because it can help students find their
proper work-life balance and manage
their time more effectively.
Students must also advocate for
themselves and their own needs.
Communicating
with
professors
and student organization leaders
about struggles instead of ignoring
them and pushing forward allows
for a more productive environment.
Club leaders and professors can
then understand what their students
are experiencing and help students
succeed while having their personal
needs met.
Burnout has always been a
challenge for college students, and it
is likely every person will experience
burnout at some point in their life,
whether in school or their career.
However, the sudden transition from
online to in-person life elevates the
risk of burning out considerably. It is
essential that all members of the U-M
community recognize the unique
challenges of this semester and take
the steps to prevent burnout now.
W
alk around campus,
and you’ll see people
in varying stages of
leaving the pandemic behind. Some
might be roaming around without
masks, basking in the sunshine.
Most would be heading to an
in-person class or to a library to
study. After sundown, they might
trade the library for a frat party.
Then there are Saturdays, with
clogged streets and a Big House
full of more than 100,000 people
cheering on our Wolverines. Even
the buses are going back to their
pre-pandemic routes.
Coming into this semester, I
wanted this. I wanted a taste of the
normal college experience, rather
than
the
pandemic-affected,
virtual one I ended up getting. We
weren’t usual sophomores; most of
us were as unaware as freshmen
about Ann Arbor. The University
of Michigan understood that this
might be a common sentiment
among the class of 2024 and
included us in many Welcome
Week events.
It was almost intimidating to
be around people at first. The
pandemic had left us socially
rusty. But apart from some initial
awkwardness,
we
all
slowly
got used to the small social
interactions that are part of the
classroom experience.
Just as I started settling in,
a
second
pandemic-induced
behavior crept up: hyperalertness
towards coughing and similar
COVID-19 symptoms. The echoing
sound of so many people coughing
brought some uneasiness, but I
brushed it aside. After all, weren’t
we all vaccinated and masked up?
It’s probably not COVID-19, I told
myself.
Then people in my hall started
getting sent to quarantine. There
was a spike of COVID-19 cases,
with the first two weeks of classes
seeing
over
460
documented
positive cases. It became a part
of my waking up routine to read a
few COVID-19 notification emails,
either of a COVID-19 case in my
dorm or in one of my classes. The
emails didn’t have much useful
information (with no mention of
which class, making it very vague
if you had multiple large lectures
on the same day), but they got
COVID-19 back on my mind.
I started thinking about what
I’d do if I contracted the virus.
While vaccines certainly do a great
job at preventing severe disease, a
positive test result would still end
up sidelining anyone for 10-14 days.
I went on Canvas and checked if all
my classes uploaded recordings.
I was very disappointed to find
out that almost half of mine did
not. Additionally, some of the
recordings that were uploaded
had issues like the microphone not
being turned on.
What makes this worse is that
a lot of professors enforce lecture
attendance. How are students who
are quarantining supposed to stay
in compliance? Or even stay on top
of coursework?
Before
the
pandemic,
this
would
be
inconvenient
but
excusable. Many professors may
lack the know-how to record their
classes, or classrooms might not be
equipped to do so. However, after
two and a half remote semesters,
this excuse doesn’t hold water.
We’ve handled classes over Zoom
where professors had to handle
massive online meetings. Many
buildings have also had equipment
upgrades
to
support
Lecture
Capture (the lecture recording
program connected to Canvas
which can also simultaneously
record the class slides) covering
most classrooms used by LSA and
College of Engineering courses.
Set-up is also relatively easy
compared to managing vast online
meetings, with professors needing
to request time slots for recordings
and wearing the recorder when
the time comes. For lecturers and
professors who aren’t comfortable,
training is also provided.
One might argue that putting
in the effort to make recording
classes more widespread might
not be so urgent now. COVID-19
case numbers have fallen after
the initial spike, but I would
counter that this is something that
will help students long after the
pandemic is over. Students will no
longer feel forced to go to classes
when feeling ill to avoid missing
out on content.
It boils down to a choice. Do we
try to go back to exactly how things
were before the pandemic and
forget everything? Or do we try to
keep the good things we learned?
As the semester progresses, I hope
the University opts to go more
often with the latter.
I
’ve never considered myself to
be well-versed in the language
of travel. I can remember the
finer details, but they only leave a faint
impression. For me, the experience is
defined by my emotions, not the other
way around. However, looking back
on my childhood, I treated vacations
as a semi-conscious experience,
enjoyed in the moment and then
mostly forgotten, with nothing but
the feeling to be savored. The goal
was to numb my mind as a means
of escapism. And in 2014, my family
desperately needed an escape.
Near the end of May, my mom
was diagnosed with stage two breast
cancer. She wouldn’t have her first
surgery until July and until then we
wouldn’t know whether or not she
needed chemotherapy (we would
later find out she didn’t). Suddenly
normality had an end date. In the
meantime, we continued on with a
sense of caution, trying not to dwell
on the worst possible outcome.
Myrtle Beach, S.C., was poised as
our temporary escape. We had spent
many weeks in the summer by the
different lakes of Northern Michigan,
but never had we stayed by the ocean.
My sister and I were excited; our dad
was afraid. We weren’t very good
swimmers and shark sightings were
common. But we were going with
family friends who’d frequented the
area. We would be safe and, most
importantly, have time as a normal
family before the inevitable.
Not everything could be frozen
in time. I was having my own
development; I was beginning to
grow into a woman. I had been
getting periods for a few months
now, I got my first bottle of tinted
moisturizer, I graduated to bras from
PINK. I was growing aware of my
own sexuality, but I was still a child
and I wanted to stay that way. It was
a delusion, thinking I could maintain
control.
Myrtle Beach had a pulse unlike
anywhere I’d ever been. Vacations for
us were usually spent in the isolation
of a cottage or private resort. I’d never
seen such a wide range of experiences
all occurring within a few feet of
each other: strolling families with
tiny children, college-aged friends
stumbling drunk, adults struggling
with addiction and homelessness. Of
them all, I was most oblivious to the
attitudes of young adults, mostly the
men, but I could feel their electric
energy as they cruised down the road
next to the hotel. It both scared and
excited me.
The hotel itself was bare, but we
didn’t mind. We spent most of our time
by the ocean and hotel pools. The beach
itself was expectedly remarkable. The
saltwater stung my eyes, but I kept
going back in until I could barely see
and my skin burned. We drank non-
alcoholic piña coladas and pretended
they were real. Mom and Dad floated
with us down a circular lazy river, again
and again for hours.
Across
the
road,
a
green-
painted cafe with soft booths and
air conditioning balanced out the
excitement of the beach. Smiles and
soft South Carolina drawls greeted
us when we entered. We made
conversation with the waiters and
other customers, where we were
from, where we were going and what
grits are exactly.
It was sweet. It was almost real, my
mind subdued at last. It was the road
around the hotel that awoke me from
my dreamlike haze.
Night or broad daylight, it made no
difference. We’d be walking between
our hotel and our friends’, tankinis
on and towels draped around our
shoulders.
Cars honking as they whizz by.
Who are they honking at?
Male passengers lean out of the car.
Are they looking at us?
“Hey sexy!”
Who are they yelling at?
“Dance for us!”
Oh.
“Don’t wear your bathing suits
near here anymore,” warned our
parents as they herded us inside.
It happened anyway, every day,
multiple times a day.
I had never been sexually harassed
before. I didn’t even know what those
words meant. But I felt them and I was
embarrassed and confused. Is it wrong
to be wearing this swimsuit in public?
Didn’t they notice that our parents
were right next to us? Didn’t they
know we were children, just 12 and
14 years old? I had so many questions,
some of which still I don’t know the
answers to and probably never will.
Beneath my discomfort, a sense of
pride blossomed. I knew their words
were not motivated by kindness,
yet I felt almost complimented.
I wondered if those reactions
meant I was pretty. Insecurity
inspired my thoughts; as a child just
starting puberty, I relied on others
for confidence. But as I gained
awareness of myself and the realities
facing me, the pride slowly melted
away, leaving nothing but shame.
Though lacking the vocabulary
to describe it accurately, during that
trip I realized the pervasiveness of
anonymity in public spaces; the sound
moves quickly and the source escapes
into the crowd of people or into the air
with a speeding bike or car. You may
never see their face, but you’ve been
violated.
It would be nonsensical to blame
Myrtle Beach as an entity or even
as an idea. Its quick and loose
atmosphere doesn’t cause catcalling,
rather people abuse those qualities.
Opinion
BRITTANY BOWMAN
Managing Editor
Stanford Lipsey Student Publications Building
420 Maynard St.
Ann Arbor, MI 48109
tothedaily@michigandaily.com
Edited and managed by students at the University of Michigan since 1890.
CLAIRE HAO
Editor in Chief
ELIZABETH COOK
AND JOEL WEINER
Editorial Page Editors
Unsigned editorials reflect the official position of The Daily’s Editorial Board.
All other signed articles and illustrations represent solely the views of their authors.
EDITORIAL BOARD MEMBERS
Julian Barnard
Zack Blumberg
Brittany Bowman
Elizabeth Cook
Brandon Cowit
Jess D’Agostino
Andrew Gerace
Shubhum Giroti
Krystal Hur
Jessie Mitchell
Gabrijela Skoko
Evan Stern
Elayna Swift
Jack Tumpowsky
Joel Weiner
H
ey you! Do you want
to explore the world?
Do you want to do
interesting things with interesting
people? Do you want to get paid to
do it? I’d like to tell you how you can,
all while helping out your fellow
Americans. Our country faces many
problems, but today, I would like
to focus on just three of them. The
first is polarization. We are more
divided than we have been in recent
memory,
and
this
polarization
seems to spread to a new sector of
our society every day. The second is
physical infrastructure. Our roads
are covered with potholes, many of
our public housing developments are
in states of disrepair and the majesty
of our national parks is obscured by
decaying infrastructure. Finally, our
young people are more aimless than
they have been in recent history.
There is a solution to all of these
things, and it is a robust national
service program. It is time that we, as
a country, invest in one year of service
for 18-year-olds to do work that needs
to be done, cut down polarization and
help millions of young people find
their ways in life.
What do I mean by a national
service? I mean enlisting every
18-year-old and sending them off
to work in a different part of the
country for a year. Filling potholes
in Kentucky, giving vaccines in New
York or killing invasive snakes in
Florida. These are just a few of the
things they will be doing, each new
public servant will be given a stipend
of around $500 a month, as well as
food and housing to go along with it. I,
along with many before me, propose
that every person who graduates
high school should be expected to
serve, barring any major exceptions
such as health problems or childcare
responsibilities.
Our country is more divided now
than it has been in recent history.
A smaller and smaller number of
Americans can say they have people
close to them with differing political
views. Exposing young Americans
to people with different views will
do good for developing a more
tolerant, less polarized society. We
saw a similar effect occur when the
military was desegregated in 1948.
Units that were desegregated showed
more tolerant behavior towards those
different from themselves, and unit
performance improved. For many
historical reasons, we are a politically
polarized
country.
Democrats
and Republicans shop at different
stores and work different jobs. We
need a program to funnel young
people together, even if only for 12
months, so that the next generation
of Americans with different social
identities can recognize each other’s
shared humanity.
We live in a time with sky-high
rates of teen depression. Many
young people are aimless, often self-
medicating the empty feeling they
experience with drugs and alcohol.
A national service would allow young
people to connect with their labor
in a way not possible throughout
schooling. It allows them to socialize
with other young people while
also affirming their commitment
to making a better world for
their
neighbors.
Research
has
demonstrated that service for others
is rewarding both because of the
immediate feel-good effects of doing
something good, but also because
of the beneficial social relationships
that people gain through it.
Ignoring the benefits to the
conscripts, our country still has a lot
of work to do. Take infrastructure
for example. The American Society
of Civil Engineers reports that 43%
of our nation’s roads are in either
poor or mediocre condition. Our
national parks are also in states of
disrepair, with billions of dollars
of repairs needed to get them up
to snuff. Rivers are polluted, the
unhoused are suffering and forest
fires are rampant. There is so much
good that approximately 3.5 million
civil service foot soldiers could do
for a nation with problems like ours.
A model for this sort of program can
be found in the Civilian Conservation
Corps of the 1930s. The CCC did
some of the most important work of
the 20th century, and it is our duty to
make sure that their work does not go
to waste by allowing our country to
wallow in disrepair.
Some critics cite this kind of
program’s financial cost. But the cost
of this program, even if it reaches
the $75 billion mark, will be worth
it several times over. It doesn’t just
benefit the participants; it also
enhances the ability of the federal
government to get things done.
We absolutely can expect that the
government will be able to utilize
these millions of young people doing
their national service to all areas of
the government. For example, the
price of running the CDC will go
down because the custodian will be
someone doing their national service,
or the price of getting seniors their
social security payments will fall
because the front desk assistant at the
social security office will be someone
serving their country. This hopefully
wouldn’t displace current, often
unionized, government workers, but
instead, would add on to the capacity
of the government to do good.
I support a national service
because
we
have
millions
of
unfulfilled young people and millions
of potholes to fill, trees to plant and
homeless shelters to build. The cost is
negligible compared to the desperate
need. Many other developed nations
have an expectation of service, like
South Korea and Sweden, but unlike
them, we wouldn’t require service in
the armed forces. I know that I would
have loved a government-mandated
gap year between high school and
college, and I imagine many of my
peers would have as well. Even the
most put-together young people
need time to breathe, decompress
and evaluate. And what better way
to do it than building paths on a
beautiful Montana mountainside
with Americans of all colors, creeds
and abilities.
It’s time for a national service
Saltwater awakening
The Michigan Daily — michigandaily.com
8 — Wednesday, October 6, 2021
UMich students, let’s address burnout together
LIZZY PEPPERCORN
Opinion Columnist
ELIZABETH WOLFE
Opinion Columnist
Accessibility in inaccessible times
JULIAN BARNARD
Opinion Senior Editor
SIDDHARTH PARMAR
Opinion Columnist
Design by SoJung Ham
Read more at MichiganDaily.com