When Colleges Ask What You Did During Covid

Tons of colleges asked the Class of 2021 in supplemental essays what, exactly, they did during the pandemic. I'm guessing the question will appear again for the Class of 2022.

Katie Kruzich's experience reflected what many of us encountered: a terribly sick family, a job loss, moral outrage. Yet, she coped with all the emotions in a mature way which informed--and altered--her adult lens.

Miami University rewarded Katie handsomely for her writing: She's headed to the public school in Oxford, Ohio, having earned $84,000 in merit aid.

Congrats, Katie, on your admission. It was a pleasure to work with you.

I had a sneaking suspicion back in mid-August that I had contracted COVID-19: a burning sore throat, constant chills, a low-grade fever, and overwhelming aches throughout my body.

I wasn’t the only one in my six-member family: My older brother, younger twin brothers, and my father all developed symptoms and tested positive within days.

In response, we divided our house: Upstairs for healthy people, downstairs for the afflicted.

I spent the last few weeks of summer alone, trays of food placed outside my bedroom door like a prisoner. I texted friends—many of whom were so busy enjoying the gorgeous Michigan summer they didn’t respond. I called my employers to update them on my health. I cleaned my room, just to wait for it to become messy, and then clean it again. I binge-watched shows I’ve seen tens of times before. I spent hours on my phone—I’d rather not share my embarrassingly high weekly screen time data. I tapped and swiped and scrolled through pictures and videos of my friends hanging out. I, like a child, brought out crayons and colored pictures to give to my friends. My Google searches at the time were filled with potential activities to pass the time: “100 things to do while in quarantine” or “what to do inside your room.”

Most of all, I passed time by learning more about COVID. The sole benefit of my quarantine was that it provided the opportunity to start and finish my summer homework.

If I needed something, I’d call a family member via FaceTime; if I wanted to leave my room, I first suited up: gloves, mask, bottle of Lysol.

Although I was in the same house with my family, we felt worlds apart.

I grew so bored and so lonely.

That said, I understood the importance of quarantine.

It comes down to a simple belief: The well-being of the community ranks above one’s individual desires. When the community is safe, I can exercise my individual rights. Until then, I will do everything in my power to protect others.

This concept is easy to understand, but the aligned actions can be difficult to execute. While I was desperate to see people, the lives of my grandparents, and my friends, Bryan— afflicted with cystic fibrosis—and Serenity—who cares for a newborn sibling—weighed on my mind. Their needs became significantly more important than my social life. Recklessly proceeding with life as usual reflects selfishness and a lack of compassion.

Yet, many did.

In fact, some of my closest friends were exposed to COVID-19 and ignored the quarantine, despite my pleas. Or, they picked and chose which rules to apply and when. Perhaps they heard from an aunt that “direct exposure” to a COVID case is classified as only physical contact, rather than classified as being within six feet for more than 15 minutes. Perhaps their golf coach told them she really needs them for their tournament this weekend. Perhaps it was the first week back to in-person learning, and they simply couldn’t miss that!

Excuses piled up, all to avoid doing what they likely knew, deep down, was the safest.

I found all that behavior to be shocking, selfish, and disappointing. They prioritized only themselves.

I also know this: It’s vital to prioritize the prosperity of the community, not only for the protection of one’s friends and family but for society’s essential workers.

My mom worked at Bronson Methodist Hospital answering questions about the virus, an indispensable position. She couldn’t afford to get sick—and didn’t—thanks to our home protocols. Remarkably, she was eventually laid off, which injected fiscal stress on our family.

I am also an essential worker. I work as a hostess at Martell’s, a local Italian restaurant. Many of my customers are elderly, which encourages me to take COVID safety precautions even more seriously. The day Governor Gretchen Whitmer allowed us to finally reopen, I clocked in; the restaurant offers them socialization, sort of like a country club.

I also worked as a nanny from March through August several times a week. Without my help, their mother—a doctor—couldn’t go to work.

Here’s what I learned during the pandemic: Society needs to band together. With a widespread “community-above-self” mentality, a return to normalcy is possible.

Selflessness is a virtue, and I plan to use it to guide me throughout the rest of my life.