All too suddenly, the COVID-19 pandemic ripped students from their lives at the University of Richmond, transforming spring break from a sojourn into a five month, perhaps longer, “coronacation.” The dream of every student worldwide - an elongated summer break - is finally a reality. However, this long-awaited holiday, usually characterized by excitement, is eliciting ambivalence at best. Students wish to return to campus and resume their hectic class schedules, sooner than weathering yet another semester of remote learning. The reason behind this switch in thinking can be attributed to the uneven experience of what has been not so endearingly deemed “Zoom University.”

From my vantage point, student response to online learning has been overwhelmingly negative. Across the nation, students have taken to expressing their discontent; half of the Tik Toks on my For You page depict disgruntled college students frustrated with remote learning and bored of pandemic life. As quarantine progressed, my group chats exploded with complaints of decreased motivation and increased procrastination. Student voices cannot quell the velocity of COVID’s impact, which is dynamic and unpredictable - today’s quiet zones may be tomorrow's crises. Although ideally students would return to campus for the fall semester, statistics are sobering. Therefore, universities must plan for the potential new “normal” of remote learning.

The University of Richmond must carefully navigate the new economic landscape carved by COVID. As of 2019, the University of Richmond had an endowment of 2.52 billion USD. The question is, in a pandemic economy, how long will these funds last? Will it be able to withstand the downshifting of institutions and fewer international students while supporting medical bills, salaries, and financial aid packages? In response to COVID, Richmond has already enacted a freeze on both the hiring of new staff and current faculty salaries. As the economic pressures from COVID escalate, Richmond will also cut budgets. However, as Georgetown University's Bryan Alexander warns, “We’re out of fat. We’re cutting sinew, muscle and bone.” With the adoption of remote learning, UR's Writing Center saw a 50% drop in students seeking guidance. Thus, The Center to some may seem like superfluous spending. Yet I would argue that academic support is of increasing importance due to COVID forced remote learning; students who have fewer opportunities for professor or peer support in classes need access to extra help from sources like The Center.

This past semester remote learning was a new experience for faculty and students alike; neither had adequate time to become prepared. Still, there were some advantages to this scenario. At the point we plunged into remote learning, I already had seven weeks of socialization to establish routines, make friends, and understand the professor’s expectations for me as a student. If online learning continues in the fall, first-year students will not have the same opportunity. While a nuisance for returning students, losing the opportunity for socialization has an even greater effect on rising first-years who have yet to establish any form of personal relationships or participate in an orientation program to help them gradually adjust. This sense of disconnection is and will continue to dampen student motivation to engage in course work as well as to seek academic support. The original final project for my English 383 class was a tutoring relationship with seniors at Deep Run, a local Richmond High School. At first, the students were excited to have writing support from a Consultant and I received numerous questions. However, following the transition to online learning and the changing of grading policies, Deep Run students quickly lost interest, prompting the end of our partnership for this year. Faculty and tutors alike will have to find novel ways to personally connect with students during remote education and rally student motivation.

Despite being a self-proclaimed type-A student, throughout the five weeks of online learning, I struggled to remain connected to my peers and professors, longing for the tantalizing debates of in-person instruction. Every day, in every corner, Richmond is bustling with interactive, engaged learning. Translating the interactive nature of Richmond classes was difficult, even for my class that was already primed with digital elements. Every Tuesday and Thursday, without fail, you could find me in the ILab with Professor Bergman, as he moderated lively conversations about digital marketing in my First Year Seminar. Since the class is about social media, we were required to post and comment daily in a Facebook group. Even with this digital component already in place, during remote learning, my experience was less than the animated dynamic of the ILab; snippets of each other through social media were unable to replace human interaction. While talented faculty, like Professor Bergman, were able to promote socialization through videos and discussion posts, online interactions were not at the quality I have been accustomed to during my in-person liberal arts classes on the Richmond campus. Fortunately, foresight that next semester may be conducted online grants Richmond the opportunity to learn from their students' experience with remote learning this past spring semester.

Not being able to see professors in class or during office hours left my friends searching for a place to get feedback on their writing. So, I directed my friends to the online Writing Center, which is an important resource that many may have been unaware of or reluctant to use during this semester. The impersonal nature of online learning that led my friends to seek guidance is not unique to classes, it also has implications for our Center. Removing face-to-face interactions can make commentary feel more difficult, leaving students less motivated to be active participators in the editing process. As a Consultant myself, I have to remember that we are not just editors who simply fix local grammar errors or grating diction. As the cliché goes, “Give a man a fish, and you'll feed him for a day. Teach a man to fish, and you've fed him for a lifetime.” Our responsibility as Writing Consultants is to guide students through the writing process, focusing on more global errors, so that students become better writers, equipped with necessary tools for future assignments.

With remote learning, the introductory phase of writing center appointments becomes critical. In “Protocols and Process in Online Tutoring,” George Cooper, Kara Brui, and Linda Riker reason that “The writer’s first encounter with an online tutor sets the tone for everything that follows” (130). Upon first introduction, as Writing Consultants, we should acquaint ourselves with the writer to gauge their goals for the session, writing strengths and weaknesses, and academic discipline. Prior to teaching a man to fish for his dinner, you need to understand his past experiences with angling. Similarly, only after a Consultant understands students and their needs, can the Consultant provide proper guidance.

The friendly, lighthearted tone established during the introductory phase should be carried through the entirety of online commentary. Successful writing conferences require a conversation. Instead of listing criticisms, Writing Consultants should synthesize positive comments with constructive criticism and prompting questions that lead to conversations about potential changes. Questions hold strong rhetorical power for Writing Consultants by suggesting "an openness, a give-and-take between writer and tutor, but surely provides a foundational point of initial discussion” (Cooper et al. 132). Prior to becoming a Writing Consultant, I frequently sought their aid. Rather than simply reading comments on a paper, I much preferred when the Consultant engaged me in a discussion about my topic so that I was an active participant, instead of passive observer. The best way to simulate real-life conversations is through video conferences. Not only does this allow students to better comprehend suggestions, but it also lets us at The Center use physical cues as an indicator to whether students are comprehending any changes being made. Whether over a video conference or in-person, we should engage with students, asking them to restate poorly worded sentences or clarify confusing ideas. In this way, a collaborative environment is established. As we transition to remote learning, Writing Consultants should focus on establishing an amicable relationship with their student through the use of questions, a kind tone, and proper introduction.

While UR's Writing Center provides important support for all Richmond students, I would argue that first-years, aside from ESL students, require the most writing support because of the drastic transition from formulaic high school writing to college level prose. First-years come from varying backgrounds of writing preparation. Nonetheless, there is an overall trend in high school writing orientation. High schoolers are taught to write in a prescribed manner. Starting in 9th grade, I was instructed to write following a specific formula - the inverse pyramid - using a highly specified three-point thesis, with each point of the thesis being explained in a body paragraph. Such a rigid writing structure is rarely successful in college writing. Scholar and center Director Ben Rafoth explains that “When a writer tries to write analytically, you can help by steering the conversation into exploring the complexity of a subject and teasing out the nature of a problem and its effects… this kind of [analysis] is more interesting and engaging than zooming toward some pat answer” (79). In college, I found that professors' assignments are more open-ended, giving me ample “academic freedom” for exploration and creativity. Following copy-paste formats hindered my capability of deeply analyzing topics. I learned to ditch a nailed down thesis for a broader, yet still specific, thesis that left room for the complexities of a subject. I urge students to heed Rafoth’s advice of “teasing” a topic to uncover all its intricacies. Rather than “zooming” to a conclusion, students should consider all angles of an argument, both supporting and opposing their stance on a topic, to formulate an airtight thesis that accounts for any counterarguments or logical flaws.

When coming to school, first-years generally fit one of two archetypes - the Eduardo or the Marie - as described by Keith Hjortshoj in his book The Transition to College Writing. Eduardo’s transition from high school to college was smooth due to “a combination of alertness, flexibility, along with a strong sense of opportunity and enjoyment in learning” (4). Students like Eduardo understand that college courses not only differ from high school classes, but also from each other. Marie excelled in high school because she followed strict practices and focused on reading with the main goal of memorization. Unlike Eduardo, Marie lacked flexibility and struggled to adjust her habits to the girth of college work and fell behind. This is where Writing Consultants come in. Rather than let students learn through risky trial and error, we can teach students to break the conventions of high school writing for an equally focused, but more effective and complex writing style of college academics. When I first arrived at Richmond, I was a rigid Marie, until a Writing Consultant taught me that being able to adapt and change my academic approaches for different courses, like Eduardo, will prove beneficial in the long run.

Before universities concern themselves with the writing habits of first years, they must entice enough high school seniors to attend. Unfortunately, COVID is swaying the current college decisions of seniors to the extent that it may place institutions nationwide in an economically precarious position. This is blindingly apparent to me as I have a younger sister who is grappling with her choices of colleges and repeatedly comes to me for advice on how to pick the right institution that matches her lifestyle and learning preferences. Honestly, I am unsure of the right guidance. Many seniors countrywide face the same decision - do they downshift to a lesser known but cheaper institution or attend a more expensive institution, like Richmond, with the potential they may not have the true college experience?

The appeal of Richmond extends farther than quality education; people are paying for an experience. An integral part of the Richmond experience is the social on-campus experiences as well as small class sizes and close relationships with professors. Generally, I have to admit that I am both a realist and a pessimist. I know the possibility of returning in person for the fall semester like that of 2019 is doubtful. Yet, in light of recent events, I choose to be an optimist. I have faith that the Richmond community can band together to improve the remote learning experience and avoid the sad fate institutions with small endowments already face - shutting down. Returning to Alexander’s disheartening financial discussion, the University of Richmond needs to consider ways to set their institution apart from the other thousands of great colleges in America. With remote learning, students can lose the Richmond experience, making it less enticing for first-years to pay the high tuition. Online learning can only happen for so long before a college, in the absence of everything that makes it special, loses its appeal. One of my best friends at Richmond is facing a complicated decision just like my sister - should she transfer to a community college closer to home? Without on-campus experiences to differentiate, colleges in the new “remote” format, regardless of the rigor or price of the institution, may begin looking the same.

The answer to how Richmond can distinguish itself from other great universities in America can be found at the heart of every student - personal connections. Richmond is my home and the friends that I have made are my family. I have forged lasting relationships with professors who do more than merely teach a class; they truly get to know their students. My older sister, who is a graduating senior, used to have weekly Taco nights with her Provost. Following the pandemic, my sister dined virtually with her professor via Zoom in lieu of taco nights. The key to outlasting the COVID pandemic is continuing to foster lifelong relationships at Richmond.

COVID stripped our lives bare; it took away hushed conversations in Boatwright, Bachelor viewing parties with pints of ETC ice cream, and boisterous dinners in D-hall. All the small things, gone in an instant. Prior to COVID, college students lamented the constant stress and anxiety that comes with academics. Now, an extended summer is not quite a dream worth desiring; social distancing stripped summer, like college-life, of all its idyllic qualities. Nationwide, college students are having a eureka moment - our abhorrence for school is a falsity. Once we lost it, we want nothing more than to get it back. COVID may have taken away our old lives, but it is possible to get back some semblance of the school we hold so dear. Conversations in Boatwright have become Zoom calls into the late hours of the night. Bachelor nights are replaced by weekly rom coms on Netflix Party. D-hall is now a loud, happy family dinner. So yes, the college life we want back is gone for an indefinite period of time. But, nostalgia for our past will do us little good in moving forward. The best we can do is find the small things within our new “normal” and keep moving on.

Works Cited

Alexander, Bryan. “COVID-19 versus Higher Ed: the Downhill Slide Becomes an Avalanche.” Bryan Alexander, 31 Mar. 2020, bryanalexander.org/future-of-education/covid-versus-higher-ed-the-downhill-slide-becomes-an-avalanche/

Cooper, G. and K. Bui, L. Riker. "Protocols and Process in Online Tutoring". A Tutor's Guide: Helping Writers One to One. Ed. Ben Rafoth. Portsmouth, NH: Heinemann, 2000. pp. 91-101.

Hjortshoj, Keith. The Transition to College Writing. Boston: Bedford/St. Martin's, 2009.

Rafoth, Ben. “Helping Writers to Write Analytically.” A Tutor's Guide: Helping Writers One to One. Ed. Ben Rafoth. Portsmouth, NH: Heinemann, 2000. pp. 107–114.