I’m not a professor, but I play one on—no, wait—wrong commercial. I’m not a professor, but I used to be. Now as the spring semester, which ended remotely, is winding down all over schools are asking what they should do in the autumn. Should the fall semester—the great migratory event of the human species—be virtual or actual? We know the coronavirus will still be lurking out there, and we know that colleges mix people from all over the world, which is one of the real essentials of education. I try to picture myself teaching to a classroom of masked faces. I try to envision frat parties with social distancing. I try to imagine the dining halls where students are packed in closely together, handling knives, forks, and spoons that others have touched. I think and shudder.
I know some younger folks.
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