A message of hope

The Groundhog Day vibe continues around here. Our Marist College community seems stuck in January while the calendar stubbornly plows ahead here in April. Our active cases and new positive Covid cases remain impressively high. They are not increasing, which is good news; but they are not decreasing, which is not good news. Flattening won’t get us anywhere, except here: Our full campus pause has been extended through next Wednesday, April 7. While that is incredibly disheartening, we see signs of hope. But first, the disheartening: We will have gone another full four weeks without any organized team activities – practice, competition, etc., at a time when our athletes sorely crave both. Another meet will be excised from our schedule as a result of this latest pause. Our outdoor schedule is the most abbreviated of the normal three-season grind (geez, remember THAT?). So to have it further truncated is, well, disheartening.

Signs of hope? In this mess? Well, yes. As of next Tuesday, April 6, all adult residents of New York – and Marist students can be part of that cohort by simply using their local addresses – will be eligible for vaccination. We will strongly encourage our team members – all our team members -- to get vaccinated. We fully believe that more sore arms and shoulders (the primary side effect from vaccination) will lead to fewer Covid cases on campus, and perhaps a return to “normal” activity sooner. Will the vaccine be the elixir for our outdoor season? That’s very naïve to think. But we need to grab hope where we can. Now, I realize that some readers of this post may disagree and/or be offended by my pro-vaccine stance. To you all, I say “I’m sorry” and “I respect your stance while I politely disagree with it.” I believe that there are many of us who are either partially or fully vaccinated, or who are eager to be partially or fully vaccinated, while also understanding that there are some who have no interest in any sort of vaccination. I also believe that if we have more “manys” and fewer “somes,” from the previous sentence, we will edge closer to that light at the end of the tunnel. As a team, as a college and as a society. Again, my opinion.

To refer back to a previous post, about the virus vs. the vaccine as an analogy to a cross country race? Here at Marist, the virus is still dominating with a 15-40 score. That’s why we remain on the sidelines. But maybe, just maybe, starting next week, the vaccine can break into the virus’s top-5 and we can change the score. Maybe that, combined with these endless pauses that have sent students scurrying to their homes instead of remaining on campus, the case numbers will come down. And maybe, we can resume practices, and eventually meets, before it’s too late and we lose yet another season – the most bitter pill of all, since all of our peers are practicing and competing to their heart’s content. The idea of another lost season, while others are racing, is one of despair and hopelessness. Today, as we sit at home again instead of boarding a bus for our first scheduled meet of the spring, we choose hope.