14 minute read
Editorial
On March 10, 2020, Harvard University decided to transition all classes online for the remainder of the spring semester and asked all un dergraduate students to move off-campus in less than one week due to concerns over the outbreak of novel coronavirus, or COVID-19. There is little doubt that this decision has a great impact on students — from moving expenses and airline flights, to the cancellation of social gatherings and provocative speakers, to the possi bility of leaving Harvard without an official in-person graduation ceremony. Students have responded with a mix of emotions — from frustration and confusion to elation and uncertainty about when they will see each other again. Some have raised rightful concerns over the safe ty and support for first-generation and low-income students. Others in the com munity have questioned the decision and mocked the administration for being too cautious and overstating the threat.
Amid this uncertainty, and fair criti cism, Harvard’s overall response is supported by history and public health practice.
Consider the 1918 influenza pandem ic and the deliberate choices made by two cities — Philadelphia, Pa. and St. Louis, Mo. Philadelphia allowed public gather ings while St. Louis chose to ban all public gatherings. As a result, there were dramatic differences in the mortality rate per day between the cities: St. Louis had a peak weekly death rate of 31 per 100,000 persons, while Philadelphia’s was 257 per 100,000 persons.
St. Louis’s non-pharmaceutical in terventions made the difference. NPIs are a class of public health interventions that do not involve a biomedical or phar maceutical component, but also serve to help slow the spread of an infectious disease. School closures, shifting class es online, and banning public gatherings By Lu as E. Buyon, Sina Famenini, and Jake R. Petrini
are all forms of NPI that fulfill two cri sis management goals. First, they eliminate high-risk opportunities for mass infection. Second, they enforce the pub lic health concept of “social distancing,” which intends to keep individual com munity members from engaging in activities that require close contact with one another for a sustained period of time.
While the 1918 flu and COVID-19 are caused by different viruses, a rapid in crease in cases of COVID-19, which is scalable with surge capacity, will simi larly burden the healthcare system. Harvard School of Public Health Professor Marc Lipsitch’s study on the 1918 influenza pandemic found that NPIs can have a dramatic effect on public health and that the mortality rate rapidly spikes when NPIs are removed. His findings un derscore the importance of maintaining NPIs throughout an epidemic.
The goal of NPIs is to slow and even tually stop disease transmission, which is measured by its effective reproduc tive number, “R.” R is the average number of people who will get infected by an already infected person. A disease with an R of 2 means that each case will infect on average 2 people, and an R of 1 means each case will infect on average 1 person. R is not a static number, so reducing a dis ease’s R to be less than 1 is critical to stopping the spread. Therefore, the enforcement of NPIs is particularly important to help reduce R and diminish the likeli hood of person-to-person transmission. NPIs reduce the density of people in a space, which significantly diminishes the likelihood of spread of an infection. Schools bring large groups of people to gether — a closure limits the opportunities for mass spread because one person has fewer interactions with groups of people. The decision to transition to classes online is an impactful public health intervention — it directly limits the propensity for the spread of this novel infection before it has a chance to estab lish a foothold at Harvard. Without school closure, it is likely that when the first COVID-19 case is detected in the Harvard community, the virus will have likely started circulating in the pop ulation and spreading without anyone’s knowledge — risking thousands of indi viduals. By reducing population density — in this case, by de-densifying student housing and ending in-person lectures — Harvard can prevent an outbreak from spiraling out of control. Given the grow ing number of cases in Boston, the majority of which stem from a Biogen conference where 1 undetected case has led to 70 cases in a matter of days, this decision is a wise public health choice.
We recognize that the news of mov ing out of dormitories on such short notice cannot be easy. In particular, we realize that this situation places hardships on students who may not have a safe home to go back to or struggle to return home due to finances and travel restrictions. We urge the University to support these students as it goes forward with its plan to move classes online and to take actions as peer institutions have done to support these students by allowing them to re main on campus in de-densified dorms, or paying students who rely on on-cam pus jobs through the end of the semester. The University’s objective — to keep stu dents safe — should include their financial and psychological well-being. But ultimately, we commend the University for taking decisive and appropriate pub lic health actions toward reducing the spread of COVID-19.
— Lucas E. Buyon is a Ph.D. student at the Graduate School of Arts and Sciences. Sina Famenini is an MPH45 candidate at the Harvard School of Public Health. Jake R. Petrini is an MPH candidate at the Har vard School of Public Health. The writers are members of the Harvard Chan Student Association Executive Board: Lucas Buy on is President, Jake Petrini is a Vice President of Academic Affairs, and Sina Famenini is Vice President of Student Advocacy.
Submit an Op-Ed Today! The Crimson
A Pandemic for Performing Arts O -
When Harvard University announced on March 10 that undergraduate students were to move out of their dormitories with in five days due to escalating concerns surrounding the coronavirus outbreak, the student body responded with shock. While this decision had a wide range of consequences affecting all aspects of un dergraduate life, I hope to shed some light on how the administration’s shifting and ambiguous policies over the past week have specifically impacted student per forming arts organizations on campus. On March 6, the Office of the Exec utive Vice President announced that “non-essential meetings or events of 100 people or more” would be “strongly dis courage[d],” a policy that resulted in the cancellation of numerous arts events across campus. In one of the most strik ing cancellations, the Harvard-Radcliffe Veritones, the Harvard Fallen Angels, and the Harvard Callbacks received only two hours notice from Sanders Theater that their spring a cappella concert could not proceed due to Harvard’s new poli cy. Meanwhile, sporting events with far more than 100 attendees remained unaf fected that same evening, a painful discrepancy detailed by one of the concert’s organizers in a piece from the Harvard Political Review.
Despite these difficulties, student arts groups were determined to continue with their productions and adapt as needed. On the afternoon of March 7, a group chat formed among the leaders of Harvard’s undergraduate performance organiza tions, consisting of over 150 members. We expressed our disappointment over the administration’s vague and inequita ble policies while working towards solutions: how we could scale down productions, move performances outdoors, set up live streams, and restrict audience ca pacity to ensure no more than 100 people gathered for any single event. While the safety measures implemented for Har vard’s sports teams were largely determined by the athletics administration, student arts organizations are in charge of reserving their own spaces for rehears By Cassandra J. kane
als, placing more pressure on individual students to make the right decisions on behalf of their communities.
Student dance organizations faced another challenge at 10 p.m. on March 7 when the Harvard Dance Center an nounced that all studio reservations within both of its facilities – the Office for the Arts and the Dance Center itself – would be suspended on March 8, “due to University recommendations.” We wondered why rehearsals within these studios would be considered danger ous based on the University’s policies at that point; outside of special events, the Dance Center rarely contained more than 100 people, and the singular studio located in the Office for the Arts already limited its capacity to 20. Confusion also arose as to why these suspensions were only in place for one day; if dance studios were truly dangerous, how would a single day of closure meaningfully protect stu dents’ health? Regardless, student dance groups worked around these constraints. Rehearsals could be rescheduled and re located to other available (though less accommodating) studios on campus.
These studio suspensions ultimately remained. Shortly after 2 p.m. on March 9, the Harvard Dance Center announced that all studio reservations would be sus pended indefinitely, and their suspensions effective immediately. Discrepancies over Harvard’s coronavirus policies also continued; just two hours following the Harvard Dance Center’s announce ment, Harvard College reported that popular recreational facilities, such as the Malkin Athletic Center and Hemen way Gymnasium, would remain open and unrestricted.
The inconsistent interpretations of Harvard’s policies across campus, partic ularly between the arts and athletics administrations, further frustrated student artists, but our organizations hoped that compromises could be reached, such as finding alternative methods to limit the number of people within studio spaces. Performing arts organizations continued to schedule rehearsals, coordinate pro duction tasks, and develop their contingency plans.
Our hopes weakened, however, when later that day, the Theater, Dance, and Media department suspended all up coming thesis performances. While solutions such as restricting audience capacity could have allowed these productions to comply with University policy, the de partment determined that these performances were to be entirely canceled due to health concerns. We could not believe the department’s actions.
We were heart-broken for the se niors who had invested countless hours into the capstone works of their academ ic and artistic careers, and while no version of these productions were allowed to be realized, the Harvard gyms remained open and unrestricted. It was not until the following day, on March 10, when we learned that students were not permitted to return to campus after spring break, effectively destroying any possibility for group student performances on campus. Between March 6 and March 10, stu dent arts leaders worked tirelessly to support their organizations by complying with the vague and inequitably enforced policies presented by the administration, with no warning that these efforts would be futile within the week. I sympathize with the difficult decisions the Harvard administration faced, and I do believe sending students home was the safest possible decision, though perhaps poor ly executed.
Rather, the lack of transparency and unequal enforcement of unjustified pol icies resulted in completely unnecessary pressures being placed on hundreds of students, preceding what would in and of itself become one of the most stress ful and destabilizing events in Harvard’s history. I have immense pride in the stu dent arts organizations who have always advocated for students’ safety and the presence of the arts on campus, and I have no doubt that our communities will remain steadfast in the upcoming weeks. However, though these issues may only be a small fraction of Harvard’s current crisis, the damage they will inflict on the relationship between student artists and our administration may be irreparable.
Th Crims n E i rial b ar
The University carried out its announcement that students must move out and transition to remote instruction by this coming Sunday due to concerns over the out break of novel coronavirus in a manner that ensured only anxiety and chaos would ensue in its wake. The last two days — amid tears, parties that have overflowed into the streets, half-attended classes, and the panic of figuring out where to live and how to get there — have made that inevitabil ity all too clear.
A global pandemic is, no doubt, unpredictable. And it would be absurd to criticize the Universi ty for an evolving response to an evolving situation. But the University’s mixed messaging has left students to face the uncertainty of pandemic alone without the ubiquitous paternalism of the College.
Students were informed on Friday, March 6, that all University-related air travel was pro hibited, and that personal air travel was seriously discouraged. Travel, multiple emails warned, can increase the risk of exposure to coronavirus. This seemed to imply that students should cancel flights home to comply with the University’s sug gestions. Evidently this concern expired just four days later. Suddenly — in a truly fantastic aboutface — the University demanded everyone out by Sunday — by plane, by train, by foot … it didn’t matter. If you had canceled a ticket home, you’d better rebook it.
The logistical demands this imposes are obvi ous. Expecting students to pack and store their things, make travel arrangements, and grap ple with visa implications over five days — while somehow not canceling classes and only formally postponing assignments late the next evening — creates an impossible storm that disrespects stu dent well-being.
To be sure, additional support has slowly been revealed — $200 for students on financial aid to subsidize storage, travel booking assistance, and some clarification on shipping procedures. But the initial panic caused by the University’s choice to drop this announcement with only the sparest of details was undeniable. Overcrowded offices, FAQs with phone numbers as “answers,” and fac ulty deans only scantly more informed than their students served no one.
Even the pathways that the University did ini tially provide for student support were on face ill-formed. Expecting distressed students to ap ply within 24 hours for University housing seems unrealistic — not least for those who lack a feasi ble place to go.
Moreover, students have been left puzzling over any number of questions. Why, for example, when on-campus storage in the Houses is guar anteed under normal circumstances, has it been taken away when we have the shortest notice pos sible to pack our lives away? Is it any coincidence that the decision came the morning after the sev enth Monday — the last day college students may withdraw from courses?
Silence on these decisions — a lack of transpar ency, as we (with a hope that now seems sweetly naive) called for on Tuesday — makes them, at best, seem cruelly arbitrary and, to the more cyn ical, potentially ill-intended. Either way, it erodes faith at a time when faith is most needed.
The stress this rollout put on low-income and international students, as we made clear yes terday, is shameful. Telling a student to book a last-minute plane ticket for potentially thousands of dollars without making clear a contingency plan or explicitly articulating whether Harvard will financially support them is irresponsible.
Students from countries with lock-downs and travel restrictions are left particularly vulnera ble, as they may be unable to return home but received no guarantee that they would be able to remain on campus.
Even students that are not in these regions will be traveling into areas, both domestic and abroad, significantly impacted by the outbreak. And coronavirus isn’t the only boogeyman wait ing at home.
Nicholas T. “Nick” Wyville ’20 put it best. “Harvard prides itself on having a massive stu dent body that is a large percentage on financial aid,” he said, “I think that they forget that those are the same students who often come from home situations that are uncomfortable.” While the University can’t ameliorate these situations, we can’t help but wish today’s announcements of ad ditional supportive measures were there to reassure them yesterday.
The administration’s call for undergraduates to “engage as a community” and “draw strength from each other” rings hollow when students lack support from the University itself. Even so, student organizations stepped up to fill the void left by the Harvard administration.
The Undergraduate Council and Harvard Primus, a first-generation students communi ty, compiled guides on essential details like returning books to the library and donating items to Habitat for Humanity. Groups organized crowd-funding drives to help mitigate the bur den on low-income students. Others are offering to help move boxes.
These efforts are inspiring but we just wish they were unnecessary. More than wishing to stay on campus, we wish that we felt more taken care of by the University.
To our peers: good luck; take care of your selves and each other. Our hearts go out to you, wherever your home for the next few months may end up. Day Two: How Not To Shut Down
This staff editorial solely represents the majority view of The Crimson Editorial Board. It is the prod uct of discussions at regular Editorial Board meetings. In order to ensure the impartiality of our journalism, Crimson editors who choose to opine and vote at these meetings are not involved in the re porting of articles on similar topics.
