Aftermath of an Industrial Accident: Stories
Mike Allen M.A. 1994
Mythic Delirium Books (Kindle edition), 2020

The Wall at the Edge of the World
Amanda Cockrell 1969, M.A. 1988
(pseudonym Damion Hunter)
Canelo, 2020

The Emperor鈥檚 Games
Canelo, 2019

The Legions of the Mist
Canelo, 2019

you were supposed to be a friend
Ashley Evans 2015
Nightingale & Sparrow, 2020

Baby Builders
Elissa Haden Guest M.F.A. 2011
Dial, 2020

A Discussion of Winter (Seasons Book 4)
Jessica M. Kirkpatrick 2015
Draft2Digital, Kirkpatrick Publishing (Kindle edition), 2019

An Approach to Fall (Seasons Book 3)
Draft2Digital, Kirkpatrick Publishing (Kindle edition), 2019

A Lecture in Summer (Seasons Book 2)
Draft2Digital, Kirkpatrick Publishing (Kindle edition), 2019

A Lesson in Spring (Seasons Book 1)
Draft2Digital, Kirkpatrick Publishing (Kindle edition), 2019

Soul Sister Revue: A Poetry Compilation (editor)
Cynthia Manick 2001
Jamii Publishing, 2020

Alexandra and the Awful, Awkward, No Fun, Truly Bad Dates: A Picture Book Parody for Adults
Rebekah Manley M.F.A. 2011
Ulysses Press, 2020

Charis in the World of Wonders听
Susan Marlene 鈥淢arly鈥� Youmans Miller 1975
Ignatius Press, 2020

Video Games from Then to Now (Sequence Developments in Technology)
Angie Smibert M.A.L.S. 1991
Amicus Ink, 2020

Math (Fascinating Facts)
Childs World Inc., 2020

Engineering (Fascinating Facts)
Childs World Inc., 2020

Phones from Then to Now (Sequence Developments in Technology)
Amicus Ink, 2020

Computers from Then to Now (Sequence Developments in Technology)
Amicus Ink, 2020

Blue Marlin
Lee Smith 1967
Blair, 2020

Memorial Drive: A Daughter鈥檚 Memoir
Natasha Trethewey M.A. 1991
HarperCollins Publishers, 2020

The beauty of Hollins beckons to me as I walk across campus on a July afternoon. I remain awed by the landscape, in part because of its unrelenting beauty and in part because it remains a new experience for my senses. I have not been able to spend much time on campus, and the newness of the sights and smells, the lovely surroundings, still call to me.听

The beauty of the scene is matched only by the depth of the silence. This, too, is new for me. On my first official visit to Hollins in February, the campus was filled with the voices, laughter, questions, shrieks, and joyful tears of the students we are privileged to serve. When I think of Hollins, that鈥檚 the sound that comes to my mind: the sound of a hopeful community. Today, the silence is unnerving. It is as if the beautiful campus mourns the absence of the beating hearts of our students.听

As I walk past Front Quad, I am reminded that as a steward of the campus, my job is both to highlight the beauty and to find and illuminate the many stories that dwell within the silence. While our students are not physically present, they, like our over 14,000 alumnae/i, are out in the world sharing the lessons and values learned at Hollins as they lead in this challenging moment.听听

In the silence, I think through the many stories our students bring with them to campus and how those stories make Hollins new each day and each year. Whether a student is a fifth-generation legacy or the first in their family to go to college, Hollins students bring with them stories they entrust to us and, in turn, Hollins has the meaningful opportunity to gently nurture, illuminate, and inform those stories as we live into our mission.听听

Hollins is a living epic poem. It is a space where stories are created, shared, and held dear. Hollins is a place where voices that have long been silent feel empowered to tell stories that need or deserve to be heard. At the heart of every Hollins story is the power of connection鈥攖o others, and to this place. The silence reminds me that the need for connection to and between our students, faculty, staff, and alumnae/i, and the power of their stories, especially when we are apart, is undeniable.听

Hollins has persevered through many difficult moments, and written many stories, in its history. We must address those stories, both those that bring us glory and those that bring us pain. We must learn from our collective story even as we are writing a new one. The question before us today, the question this edition of the magazine will explore, is: what story will we tell as we emerge from this moment? Will the story that moves us forward be one of courage? One of inclusion? One of the freedom brought forth through the liberal arts? One of hope?听听

In the years to come, I look forward to sharing my story with you, and to collaborating with you as we write the chapters of these coming years and weave them into this centuries-old tale. Until then, know that I will be listening to and for your story in the beauty and in the silence of our beloved Hollins.听听

Mary Dana Hinton became Hollins鈥� 13th president on August 1, 2020.听

Then COVID-19 began creeping into the American bloodstream.

The campus went quiet as students went home for remote learning and a large portion of employees began working from home. Seven months into this job and almost five months since COVID-19 first impacted Hollins… everything still feels ripe with possibility and promise, and I鈥檓 every bit as excited to be here now as I was back in January. Maybe even more. In this summer issue, I hope you will gain a sense of why, exactly, this might be the case.

You will be greeted by a letter from Hollins鈥� 13^th president, Mary Dana Hinton. You鈥檒l learn far more about her in the next issue later this fall, and rest assured the enthusiasm for her arrival is deserved.

As we worked on the ambitious feature, 鈥溾��It Feels Like There鈥檚 No Closure,鈥欌�� a project organized by Beth JoJack 鈥�98, we found ourselves looking back to the 1918 Spanish Flu that struck the Hollins campus and resulted in the death of one student. Details of the time were incredibly difficult to locate, and the yearbooks of that day limited in what they offered. So we sought to ensure that, if someone wants to know how COVID-19 affected Hollins 鈥� not merely our campus, but our extended community of students, faculty, and alumnae/i 鈥� they would have a resource in the magazine archives. They would see stories of resilience, struggle, hope, and fear. They would see the uncertainty that we have all carried with us for half a year now, with no end yet in sight.

As the nation celebrates the centennial of the passage of the 19^th Amendment, read a fascinating piece by Guest Editor Jean Holzinger MALS 鈥�11 on the experience at Hollins during that historic era. Further, I hope you will share with me tremendous gratitude for Jean and the work she has done so brilliantly in building out this magazine as our guest editor for the past six issues.

You can read about not only how Hollins handled the challenges of the spring as they affected our campus community, but also how the administration responded initially to the tragic death of George Floyd and the initial announcement from President Hinton regarding her plans around inclusion, equity, and justice for the university moving forward. Expect more information about this in the fall issue.

Celebrate the progress of the Student Village as it reaches the midpoint of Phase II, with three new houses coming online this fall, and read of the other impressive accomplishments of an unusual fundraising year. This update is a testament to the incredible generosity of so many of you who receive this magazine.

Lastly, enjoy a piece originally in Slate on 鈥�How One Librarian Tried to Squash Goodnight Moon.鈥�

Hollins appreciates you, and I am grateful for this opportunity to help tell the story of such a marvelous institution, the community it has helped to build, and the people who continue to support its growth and explore what is possible in the future on this campus on the Blue Ridge.

Billy Faires
Editor

Reilly Swennes 鈥�20 built a Minecraft version of Front Quad during the spring. Below are some excerpts from her explanation for this passion project:

What inspired me to build Hollins on Minecraft first came purely out of boredom, but as I continued to build, it had more to do with how dearly I missed the campus and everyone in it. My goal then became sharing my progress with my friends over Facebook (alumnae/i, professors, current students, etc.) because I knew so many of us could not visit campus, and photos alone cannot capture it all.

I used floor plans, Google Maps, photos, and just the overall feel of a space to make this project come to life. Main was the first structure I built and, considering I had not played on Minecraft since high school, it was more challenging than I had anticipated. First, I had to come up with a block palette and map out a general outline for where everything would go. Then I spent a few hours a day over a couple of weeks placing each and every block by hand without any console commands. After getting the hang of things, I quickly finished portions of Front Quad, the covered walkway, and Bradley Hall.

I built the campus on a super flat world, because that way I would not have to contend with any pre-existing structures or biomes that might get in the way. The tradeoff for this was that I had to build every hill and plant every tree myself. One of the issues that I ran into during this process was realizing that super flat worlds are also super thin and leave virtually no room for basements, so I have to get creative and fudge the topography of the campus a bit. Still, I am pretty happy with how it turned out.

Tien Nguyen 鈥�22 is an ambassador for gender parity in the game she loves.

Tien Nguyen 鈥�22 and Chanmolis Mout 鈥�23 with the trophies they earned at the 2019-20 Virginia Scholastic and College Chess Championships.

For the second year in a row, Tien Nguyen 鈥�22 was ranked as the top female chess player in the commonwealth at the 2019-20 Virginia Scholastic and College Chess Championships, held March 6 and 7 in Alexandria. She and Chanmolis Mout 鈥�23 combined to win second place in the College Section鈥檚 Blitz team competition, while Nguyen took third in the Blitz individual category. Nguyen also tied for third place in the tournament鈥檚 Standard competition.

鈥淭ien is very smart and talented, and she deserves all of this,鈥� said Mout. 鈥淭his was my first tournament, and she supported me throughout the event. She is a really good coach.鈥�

As a five-year-old growing up in Vietnam, Nguyen received a present from her father that would not only have a profound impact on their relationship, but also spark a passion that would take her throughout the world and foster a dedication to inspire other women and girls.

That gift was a chessboard, and the initial benefit was giving Nguyen quality time with her dad. 鈥淗e coached me to become a chess player and I was very happy because I could play chess with him,鈥� she recalled.

Nguyen quickly developed into an exceptional player, and in the ensuing years, her talent took her to competitions in Vietnam and beyond. To date, she has played in 10 countries, including India, Indonesia, Korea, Mongolia, Myanmar, Philippines, Russia, Thailand (three times), Turkey, and the United States.

In this country, the United States Chess Federation (USCF) ranks Nguyen 67th out of 10,389 female chess players, or in the 99th percentile. Among players of all ages and genders, the USCF places her in the 98th percentile. The organization has awarded Nguyen the title of Candidate Master (given to players who achieve five performance-based 鈥渘orms鈥� in competition) for life, and has named her a U.S. Chess Expert, recognizing that she is among the top five percent of all USCF tournament chess players.

鈥淚 really want all girls to play chess,鈥� Nguyen said, 鈥渢o learn about it and enjoy it.鈥� Competing in the Virginia Scholastic and College Chess Championships, she was struck by the fact that 鈥淚 was the only girl鈥攖hey all looked at me like I was a museum exhibit! Some of the male players were upset when they lost a game against me. I got used to it.鈥� Nguyen said one of her proudest moments in serving as a role model for girls and women in the game occurred this year when the 2019 National Chess Congress Standings for her U.S. Chess Expert section were released, and she learned she was cochampion with three male players.

Training young artists of the future

Raymond Rodriguez M.F.A. 鈥�18 named director of Joffrey Academy of Dance

Early last October, Raymond Rodriguez received good news: He was named director of the Joffrey Academy of Dance in Chicago. In this new role, he explained, 鈥淚 work as a thought leader and direct strategic planning for the academy, which is the official school of the Joffrey Ballet. I represent the academy internally and externally in areas of dance training, program partnerships, philanthropic outreach, and arts advocacy.鈥�

That鈥檚 a long list鈥攂ut one for which Rodriguez has been training most of his life. A dancer since the age of six, starting in his native New York City, he attended the High School of the Performing Arts in Manhattan and trained at the American Ballet Theatre School on a full scholarship. In 1981, he joined the Cleveland Ballet as a principal dancer, and proceeded to work his way through several roles鈥攁s a dancer and then administrator鈥攊ncluding those of associate artistic director and managing director. In 2016, he joined the Joffrey Ballet as the head of the studio company and trainee program.

As a principal dancer, Rodriguez had roles that included Albrecht in Giselle; Romeo in Romeo and Juliet; the Peruvian in L茅onide Massine鈥檚 G芒it茅 Parisienne; the Profiteer in Kurt Jooss鈥� The Green Table; Prince Siegfried in Swan Lake; principal roles in George Balanchine鈥檚 Who Cares?, Tarantella, Serenade, Agon, The Four Temperaments, Rubies, and Theme and Variations; the Champion Roper in Agnes de Mille鈥檚 Rodeo; Don Jose in Roland Petit鈥檚 Carmen; and many other roles created for him. He shared the stage on international tours with such legends as Rudolf Nureyev and Cynthia Gregory.

Rodriguez was drawn to Hollins鈥� program in dance, he said, 鈥渢hrough a desire to continue my education. Hollins opened my eyes to the limitless possibilities that are in front of me, giving me the tools to communicate the knowledge I possess to the young artists of tomorrow.鈥�

Growing into a leadership role

Kayla Surles 鈥�22 sets the pace for HU basketball

Some game-changers can affect more than the outcome on a scoreboard. Some can change the trajectory of a season or even a program. That person for Hollins? Kayla Surles 鈥�22.

A dedicated student in only her second year at Hollins, Surles served as the point guard for a basketball team that came within a few buckets of tying a Hollins record for team victories. The team settled for a second-best-ever 11 wins. In the last two years of ODAC competition play, Surles has led Hollins basketball in wins against multiple top-five teams, including the number-one team in the league each year.

Not only did Surles lead her team in both points per game (16.6) and assists (4.4), but she ranked second in the ODAC in points and first in assists. For her efforts this past season, she was selected as Second Team All-ODAC鈥攖he only sophomore selected on first or second team.

鈥淗aving the league鈥檚 best point guard walking onto the court for us every game gave us so much confidence this year,鈥� said Emilee Dunton, Hollins鈥� head coach. 鈥淲e knew she would and could put this team on her back as a great floor general.鈥�

Surles and her sister Keenan (who is two minutes younger, Kayla would like you to know) are part of a trifecta of small college athlete triplets. The third, Emma, plays volleyball for Meredith College in Raleigh, which is where the family calls home.

鈥淏eing away from home was a real challenge, especially that first year, because I鈥檓 really a homebody at heart,鈥� Surles said. 鈥淏ut getting to see my family at the games last year and this year has been great and helped a lot.鈥�

The team has already begun its strength and conditioning program to prepare for next season, during which Surles expects them to make a run for鈥攁nd break鈥攖hat 12-win record. Dunton isn鈥檛 quite sure what the team will look like in the winter of 2021 but is optimistic; they lose only one senior from this year鈥檚 roster and return their starting five.

鈥淜ayla has brought renown to our campus. She is a high-character student-athlete who represents Hollins with class on and off the court,鈥� Dunton said.

When asked what her personal goals are for the second half of her college career, Surles didn鈥檛 mention awards or personal honors. 鈥淚 just want to continue to be a good leader on and off the floor. I鈥檓 young, and being a leader hasn鈥檛 always come easy to me, because maybe I鈥檓 not as assertive as I could or should be. But some of the courses I鈥檝e taken here at Hollins have been helpful for me in that way and are helping me feel more confident in speaking up and taking on that leadership role. I鈥檓 growing into it.鈥�

Jon Rou

The work of two U.S. poets laureate, Joy Harjo and Natasha Trethewey M.A. 鈥�91, was celebrated on campus last spring. Harjo, a poet, musician, and playwright, has written many works, including a memoir, Crazy Brave, which was the common reading for last fall鈥檚 incoming class. She is the first Native American poet laureate in the history of the position. In March, Trethewey came to Hollins for a theatrical reading of Native Guard, which won the Pulitzer Prize for Poetry in 2007. Trethewey served as the 19th poet laureate from 2012 to 2014.

Karen Kuehn

Hollins Welcomes Fulbright Scholar-in-Residence for 2021-22

A public health expert from Kenya with particular expertise in parasitic diseases will be spending a full academic year at Hollins as a Fulbright Scholar-in-Residence (S-I-R).

Isabell Kingori, who teaches in the School of Public Health at Kenyatta University in Nairobi, is coming to Hollins for the 2021-22 academic session to further infuse a global perspective into the university鈥檚 public health curriculum.

In January, the Fulbright S-I-R program, which supports international academic exchange between the United States and more than 160 countries around the world, approved a joint proposal by Hollins and Virginia Tech to bring an S-I-R to their respective campuses, with the individual spending 80 percent of their time at Hollins. The S-I-R will provide an international point of view to the undergraduate public health programs launched at both universities during the 2019-20 academic year.

Elizabeth Gleim 鈥�06, an assistant professor of biology and environmental studies at Hollins, co-authored the proposal with Gillian Eastwood, an assistant professor of entomology at Virginia Tech.

鈥淭he Fulbright program requires applicants to select two specific countries from a particular continent from which to draw potential candidates for the Scholar position,鈥� Gleim explained. 鈥淕illian and I narrowed our choices to Kenya and South Africa. Africa has so many fascinating disease systems, and in those two countries, scientists are conducting some very interesting research. Because diseases don鈥檛 recognize borders or boundaries, it鈥檚 important that our public health students have an understanding of these different health care settings around the globe.鈥�

Gleim noted that the existence of an endowed fund created specifically to bring international faculty members to campus was instrumental in gaining approval from the Fulbright program. 鈥淗ollins鈥� financial support of the S-I-R via the Jack and Tifi W. Bierley International Professorship significantly enhanced our proposal.鈥�

Established in 1946, the Fulbright Program is funded by an annual appropriation from the U.S. Congress to the U.S. Department of State. Its goal is to increase mutual understanding and support between the people of the United States and other countries while transforming lives, bridging geographic and cultural boundaries, and promoting a more peaceful and prosperous world.

Faculty, Staff Members Earn Distinguished Service Awards

Four Hollins employees have each been recognized with the Distinguished Service Award, honoring 鈥渕eritorious or superior contributions鈥� to the university.

Ayers

Electrician Lee Ayers, former University Chaplain Jenny Call, Manager of Instructional Technology Brad Oechslin, and Assistant Professor of Education Teri Wagner were cited by Interim President Nancy Oliver Gray for having 鈥済one above and beyond to continue supporting their coworkers and our students.鈥�

Faculty and staff were invited to nominate colleagues for their efforts on behalf of the campus community throughout the 2019-20 academic year and particularly this spring during Hollins鈥� response to the COVID-19 pandemic. The Distinguished Service Award Committee then forwarded their recommendations to Gray.

鈥淭he committee had an especially challenging job this year, given so many strong nominations,鈥� Gray said.

A university employee for more than 20 years, Ayers was called 鈥渙ne of Hollins鈥� hardest-working and most dedicated and reliable employees. He loves his job and the people here. When Lee drives through the front gate in the morning, his mind is on doing the best job he can, or who he can help that day. If someone needs him, it doesn鈥檛 matter if it鈥檚 five minutes before he punches in in the morning or halfway through his lunch break鈥擫ee will be there.鈥�

Call

Call was described as bringing 鈥渓ight and love to our campus for a long time. She is always offering kindness, compassion, and understanding. She is truly selfless. Her wisdom and peace flow so effortlessly to those around her. She intentionally walks alongside all of our students and provides religious and spiritual spaces for them. She works so hard to make Hollins home to so many, and has helped our community get through difficult times. She is a blessing to everyone.鈥�

Oechslin

Oechslin and Wagner were both acknowledged for their work on behalf of the faculty during the university鈥檚 shift to remote instruction beginning in March. 鈥淗e is a remarkable member of the Hollins community, providing technological support for teaching with lightning speed and good humor,鈥� Oechslin鈥檚 nomination stated. 鈥淏ut with the pandemic, Brad has been a superhero to every member of our faculty. The faculty鈥檚 transition to Zoom and other online learning tools could not have gone forward without him.鈥�

Wagner

Wagner 鈥渧olunteered her time and energy to develop a series of training sessions and tools. She generously shared of her time and knowledge of technologies and strategies. Teri鈥檚 blend of enthusiasm, warmth, and patience was found to be an incredible asset. She has been essential in training faculty on the ins and outs of remote teaching. Her work to prepare our faculty for teaching online and on incredibly short notice has been impressive.鈥�

Now in its 26th year, the Distinguished Service Award is an endowed award made possible by a generous gift from an anonymous donor.

Answering the Call During the Pandemic

Hollins Employees Responded Rapidly and Effectively to Support the Campus Community.

As fears over the spread of COVID-19 were beginning to grip the country in early March of this year, Hollins University Interim President Nancy Oliver Gray sought to reassure students, faculty, and staff.

鈥淲e can take great comfort in knowing that the Hollins community is strong. We support one another,鈥� she stated in a campus-wide email. 鈥淚 have no doubt that the strength of our community will sustain us in the days ahead.鈥�

That unwavering belief manifested itself in the coming weeks and months as, time and again, the university came together to assist students as the pandemic unfolded.

鈥淎n incredible group effort to get it right.鈥�

Among the measures Hollins took at the outset to protect the campus and reduce the risk of contagion was to begin Spring Recess early on March 13 and continue the break through March 29, followed by two weeks of online classes. Initially, it was hoped that students could return to campus in mid-April. But, as the pandemic鈥檚 threat persisted, the university announced it would close residence halls for the remainder of Spring Term and classes would be conducted remotely through a combination of Zoom, a video conferencing platform, and Moodle, the university鈥檚 course management system.

鈥淟earning how to teach remotely so quickly was a challenge for the faculty, and what I saw was an incredible group effort to get it right,鈥� said Elizabeth Poliner, associate professor of English and director of the Jackson Center for Creative Writing. 鈥淭he amount of coordination on a very short timeline to prepare the faculty, who came to this moment with such a range of experience鈥攁nd, frankly, inexperience鈥攚ith technology, was inspiring.鈥�

Dean of Academic Success Michael Gettings added, 鈥淚 saw so many people step up to help, support one another, and genuinely express the spirit I have seen over my two decades on campus. This was true of students, staff, and faculty.鈥�

Both Gettings and Poliner acknowledged that outcomes varied across classes, teachers, and subjects. They also noted that few would claim the remote classrooms matched in-person learning in terms of overall quality. That, however, did not dull their admiration for the collective effort to do the best possible job under restricted circumstances.

鈥淚t warmed our hearts to see the outpouring of love and concern.鈥�

As students departed for Spring Recess, Hollins transported 12 international students to Dulles International Airport to fly home. Unfortunately, these students were forced to return to Hollins when their flights were canceled. Out of an abundance of caution, the Virginia Department of Health requested that the students self-isolate for two weeks. Housing and Residence Life (HRL) staff led efforts to quickly prepare accommodations at the university-owned Williamson Road Apartments, located across the street from the main campus.

To ensure these students were cared for and supported, Dan Derringer, interim vice president for academic affairs; Alison Ridley, interim vice president for academic programs; and Jeri Suarez, associate dean of cultural and community engagement, invited Hollins employees to get involved. Volunteers were needed to prepare meals for the students in self-isolation and provide activities to keep them engaged. Help was also requested to put together care packages for the 16 students still residing on the main part of campus.

According to Ridley, 37 faculty, staff, and administrators participated in the effort. 鈥淭he meals were incredible, ranging from homemade soups to complete Indian feasts. Faculty members prepared a virtual workout competition for the students to keep them moving, and others gave coloring books, puzzles, and games to ward off boredom and loneliness. Many also wrote notes to the students. Employees stopped by the administration building every day with treats for the care packages. We were able to prepare two care packages for each student during Spring Recess.鈥�

Ridley applauded Meriwether Godsey (MG), Hollins鈥� food service provider, for 鈥渄ropping everything to help. As soon as we found out about the students returning from Dulles, MG gathered everything they could and packaged items into separate containers for the six apartments we needed to use. Even though MG was not supposed to be serving meals during Spring Recess, they made two hot lunches for the students in the apartments during the week.鈥�

Hollins鈥� facilities staff, she noted, 鈥渨ere equally wonderful, working long hours to get the apartments ready and equipping them with essentials.鈥� Once the students moved into the apartments, Cultural and Community Engagement stayed connected by holding activities via Zoom.

鈥淚t warmed our hearts to see the outpouring of love and concern,鈥� Ridley said.

In mid-May, Suarez coordinated a meal plan for 28 domestic and international students who, because of extenuating circumstances, were unable to go home for the summer and would be residing in the Williamson Road Apartments for 12 weeks. The cancellation of summer camps and the transition of summer graduate programs to remote instruction meant dining services would not be available.

The Virginia Foundation for Independent Colleges gave each student a supermarket gift card to cover the cost of breakfasts and lunches. But 12 weeks of dinners still had to be provided.

鈥淲e reached out to see if faculty, staff, and alumnae would be willing to 鈥榓dopt鈥� an apartment for a week of dinners during the summer,鈥� Suarez said.

Seventy-six community members, a third of whom gave assistance over multiple weeks, met students鈥� needs in a number of ways. 鈥淭hey could prepare hot meals each day of the week they selected. Or they could precook the meals, freeze them, and drop them off at the beginning of the week,鈥� Suarez explained. 鈥淭hey could also give supermarket or restaurant gift cards, or do a combination of all of these options.鈥�

Suarez arranged for food donations through Feeding America Southwest Virginia and Keystone Community Center, while the university鈥檚 community garden offered fresh produce on a weekly basis.

鈥淚 was buoyed by the strength and resilience of our student body.鈥�

While faculty sought to maximize the effectiveness of their virtual classrooms, others worked throughout the rest of Spring Term to minimize the impact of separation.

The Hollins Activity Board organized game nights, movie nights, and even online scavenger hunts. Student leaders worked behind the scenes to boost their own spirits, and those of their classmates, and many student organizations continued to meet virtually. University Chaplain Jenny Call offered online 鈥淪anctuary Today鈥� moments for those wishing to join in meditation, and her messages regularly received hundreds of听 Facebook views.

鈥淚 was buoyed many times by the strength and resilience of our student body,鈥� said Gettings.

Many students who departed campus for Spring Recess in March expected to return the following month. As a result, a number of them left behind possessions. With guidance provided by the Virginia Governor鈥檚 office, HRL offered students four options from late May through mid-June to gather their belongings: return to campus themselves during specific appointment times while using face coverings and observing proper physical distancing protocols; designate a friend or family member who would follow the same guidelines; have a university-selected moving company and/or Hollins employees store their possessions; or have the items shipped to them.

Suarez stressed that the success of all these initiatives was due to the compassion of Hollins employees. 鈥淲e could not have provided the care for our students, to the level that we did, without the collective efforts of many individuals and departments. Our students were overwhelmed by the community鈥檚 generosity. It made me incredibly proud.鈥�

Hollins鈥� 178th Commencement Exercises in May were initially rescheduled for September and then moved to Memorial Day weekend of 2021. Impressively, Gray recorded over 200 personalized video messages for graduating seniors and group messages for those earning their graduate degrees. Alumnae/i gathered online to toast the class of 2020 virtually via Zoom.

鈥淐arefully Onward.鈥�

In June, Hollins announced initial plans to resume in-person instruction and residence hall living in the fall under the theme 鈥淐arefully Onward.鈥� The plans include beginning fall term two days early, removing Fall Break, and closing the campus entirely the Saturday before Thanksgiving. The university will shift to remote learning for the final week of the term and for fall term examinations.

Gray praised a campus community that would 鈥渃ontinue to work diligently to address additional details and complexities鈥� during the summer and prepare for what promises to be an unpredictable fall.

鈥淭he last few months have been an exceptionally challenging time as the pandemic changed our world in unimaginable ways,鈥� she said. 鈥淚 have been especially grateful for your resilience, flexibility, and partnership. It has been an honor to lead and serve alongside you.鈥�

Updated information about Hollins鈥� reopening plans can be found at 糖心传媒.edu/onward.

鈥淲ith a deep sense of honor for the Hollins mission and community鈥︹��

As spring moved into summer and communities throughout the U.S. wrestled with the challenges of minimizing the damaging consequences of COVID-19, a series of tragic deaths in the Black community sent the country into a season of protest and public unrest unlike anything seen since the Civil Rights Era. National surveys estimate between 15 and 26 million Americans actively participated in protests in June 2020, often risking their health to do so.

On May 30, the Hollins cabinet and other key administrators issued a statement noting the school鈥檚 mission 鈥渞eminds us that our calling is to nurture civility, integrity, and concern for others, and to encourage and value diversity and social justice鈥� For this reason, it is imperative that we lift up our voices in solidarity to say 鈥楨nough!鈥欌��

鈥溾�e must be accountable for equity.鈥�

On June 19, then-President-elect Mary Dana Hinton shared a message with the extended Hollins community noting that the moment demanded a time of mission-based soul-searching within the institution, and vowing to lead the school down the difficult road of learning and then, of taking necessary action toward building 鈥渁 shared, aspirational, and inclusive future.鈥�

As individuals and collectively, she noted, an institution of learning had an obligation to grapple with these difficult and uncomfortable issues.

鈥淎s school leaders in this moment, we are called to respond to systemic racism and injustice in our world and, most importantly, on our campuses,鈥� Hinton noted. 鈥淢aking the choice not to respond would still be a response in its own right, an intentional and damaging response of silence to expressed feelings of anger, frustration, and pain.鈥�

By the time she officially took office on August 1, Hinton had met remotely and heard from a dozen different individuals and groups within the campus, and she vowed to create 鈥渁 public timeline and accountability structure,鈥� with updates coming in the fall around direction and action steps.

La vie est belle

Edwina 鈥淓d鈥� Spodark, professor of French, retired at the end of the academic year.
By Nancy Healy, professor emerita of computer science

Effective teaching is really helping students learn. Since 1982, Edwina 鈥淓d鈥� Spodark has been doing just that. Her former colleague, Professor Emerita of French Jean Fallon, recalled her first meeting with Ed when the department was interviewing candidates for a position at Hollins:

Dreading the anxiety that interviews produce, I was prepared for a stressful encounter. To my surprise and relief, I was struck by how down-to-earth, funny, and personable she was. Through the years, I witnessed Ed鈥檚 ability to teach her students in the same happy manner. Ed took genuine pleasure in teaching, particularly the introductory courses, and her students responded happily and enthusiastically to her calm and cheerful demeanor.

Professor of French Annette Sampon-Nicolas added:

Ed and I have had 35 years of daily morning chats, as we were always the first ones in Turner and had offices across from each other. The only time we did not was when she was on sabbatical, and then third-floor Turner was unbelievably empty. Every morning, when we did not have students, we covered almost every subject imaginable and exchanged many pedagogical ideas. For 35 years I practiced shooting baskets into her wastepaper basket across the room. I shall miss her as a colleague and friend and wish her the happiest of retirements.

Always looking for new and effective ways to teach, Ed was an early fan of teaching with technology. She mastered computer skills with ease and shared her knowledge with students and faculty at Hollins and throughout the country. She developed several online offerings at the undergraduate and graduate levels.

Together, we made many presentations demonstrating teaching with technology. She was a diligent (and delightful) presenter, always promoting Hollins in the process. Our running joke was that we played the 鈥淩ainbow Room.鈥�

Ed taught more than 30 courses at Hollins. She has published over 40 articles, made over 65 conference and panel presentations, received numerous grants, and been selected for and elected to many prestigious professional organizations. Her resume is long and impressive. In fact, when you are looking at a journal in the Wyndham Robertson Library, the height of the windows is just about the length of her printed resume.

Ed has served on more than her share of Hollins committees. She has also served as acting dean of graduate studies and international programs and as department chair numerous times. Her service has extended to the community, too. She volunteers as a poll official during elections and served for many years as an officer of elections in Botetourt County.

Ed is also a generous colleague. After a bad fall when I broke my shoulder and foot, I wasn鈥檛 able to teach my spring semester class. Since Ed and I had taught it together in the past, I asked her if she might add this class to her regular teaching load. Without hesitation, she said yes.

Another way to measure effectiveness is how long the learning continues after the classroom experience is over. Several years after graduating from Hollins, a student called Ed and asked for confirmation on the spelling she was using for her tattoo. Ed chuckled and told her she was correct. The quote the student used? 鈥淟a vie est belle.鈥�

Thanks, Ed, for sharing your life with us. We wish you a continuation of 鈥渓ife is beautiful.鈥�

From the Board Chair

My Dear Hollins Community,

I send you a warm Hollins greeting and hope that this letter finds you and your loved ones healthy and safe.

Throughout the spring and early summer, Interim President Nancy Oliver Gray, working in close partnership with then-President-elect Mary Dana Hinton and the exceptional Hollins cabinet, worked tirelessly on plans for reopening the campus for fall term. With the full support of the board, this work has been guided by one principle鈥攅nsuring the health and safety of our students, faculty, and staff.

As of this writing, we have planned various forms of instruction which will include in person, online, and a hybrid of both. However, like every other institution, we are subject to change due to so many uncertainties brought on by the trajectory of the coronavirus.

The board would like to express its deep gratitude to Nancy, Mary, the cabinet, faculty, and staff of Hollins for carrying the university through what will long be viewed as one of the biggest challenges in our history. Under normal circumstances, the group keeps things running seamlessly every day, but their ability to pivot so quickly鈥攁nd to reimagine how to move forward in a new online environment鈥攄eserves to be honored. We also salute our students, who showed the best of Hollins through their remarkable resilience, grit, and flexibility.

Every member of the Hollins family, past and present, owes a huge debt to Nancy Gray (and her husband David Maxson) for so graciously stepping into the role of interim president last summer. Nancy brought an immediate sense of calm and confidence to the entire campus. She led us deftly through a presidential transition and steered us expertly through the enormous challenges brought on by a worldwide pandemic and its many collateral consequences. Of Nancy鈥檚 many gifts to Hollins, this was perhaps her greatest.

At the same time, it is our great good fortune to welcome Mary Dana Hinton as the 13th president of Hollins. Mary officially began her tenure as our president this summer but worked closely with Nancy throughout the spring to ensure a smooth transition. Mary is deeply thoughtful, mission-minded, empathetic, and carries incredible quiet confidence. She is a seasoned leader who understands and values the power and potential of women鈥檚 colleges and the complexities of running a small but multifaceted private university. We are fortunate to have her at the helm as she leads Hollins through a time of difficult, thorough, and necessary introspection, and as we continue the work to be a place that best champions every member of our community. The board is confident that as more of you get to know Mary and see the extraordinary breadth of strengths and assets she brings to this campus, her legion of admirers will only grow.

Two critically important areas of institutional health are: 1) ensuring we generate enough financial support to cover a significant portion of our annual costs, and 2) making certain we continue to attract and retain high-talent students who will most benefit from what Hollins can offer.

Given the nationwide economic disruptions caused by COVID-19, we were braced for significant consequences to our fundraising efforts.

Thanks to Vice President for External Relations Suzy Mink and her outstanding team, and thanks most especially to you, our dedicated Hollins community, we have weathered the first stage of a storm that can be expected to impact most educational institutions in the years ahead. At the end of our fiscal year, the Hollins Fund significantly exceeded its goal and raised over $3.7 million. These funds became even more crucial as our room and board revenue was impacted significantly in the spring. We hope we can rely on your continued support.

We likewise questioned what the pandemic might do for our admission prospects. Those concerns were put to rest thanks to the high-touch and personalized work of Ashley Browning, vice president for enrollment management, and her phenomenal team. As I write this, we are on pace to start the 2020-21 school year with the largest incoming class since the fall of 2016. These are highly promising students whom we welcome with great excitement. This lays the strong groundwork and momentum for even better enrollment years to come.

Finally, as you will read in this magazine, the story of Hollins in this pandemic is one of a community and the power it can summon: the stories of faculty and staff learning and adapting to the challenges of teaching online, of students showing real resilience in far-from-ideal circumstances, and of seniors providing inspirational leadership even as the traditions they expected to celebrate together this spring were postponed or canceled.

This fall, whatever environment and challenges the school may face and overcome, Hollins will continue to lead with courage, intelligence and optimism. The Board of Trustees and I hope you, as our loyal Hollins community, will work together to ensure that we can look back on this era as a time when the connections, the intimacy, and the agility of our beloved university shone brightest.

With tremendous gratitude to you,

Alexandra C. Trower 鈥�86
Chair, Hollins University鈥檚 Board of Trustees

Board of Trustees Welcomes Four New Members

Patricia Thrower Barmeyer 鈥�68, Paul Hollingsworth, John Poulton, and Anne Lindblad Quanbeck 鈥�79 have been elected to the Hollins University Board of Trustees.

A history major at Hollins, Patricia Thrower Barmeyer 鈥�68 graduated cum laude from Harvard Law School. After clerking for a federal district court judge, she began practice with the State of Georgia Attorney General鈥檚 office, where she litigated landmark environmental issues. In 1990 she joined the firm of King & Spalding, where she has focused on the environmental permitting of controversial projects and the litigation that is often part of the process of bringing these projects to completion. She has been ranked by Chambers USA Leading Lawyers for Business as the top environmental lawyer in Georgia since 2006.

Barmeyer is currently active with the Trust for Public Land. She has also been involved with legal services organizations, including the Georgia Legal Services Foundation and the Atlanta Volunteer Lawyers Foundation. She is a recipient of the Hollins Distinguished Alumnae Award.

Paul Hollingsworth has been an intelligence advisor for the international energy company BP since 2014. He previously served for 27 years in the CIA, including eight years on three overseas tours, a rotational assignment at the FBI, and two years as a special assistant for national security affairs on the NCS staff under President Barack Obama.

A 1977 graduate of Georgetown University with a B.A. in Catholic theology, Hollingsworth also holds a Ph.D. in Byzantine and Medieval Slavic Studies from the University of California鈥擝erkeley. Married with three children, his daughter, Anna, is a member of Hollins鈥� class of 2022.

John Poulton serves as senior scientist at NVIDIA Corporation, where he has continued the work he began more than 30 years ago of producing chip-to-chip communications circuits for high-performance computers. As a research professor in the University of North Carolina鈥擟hapel Hill鈥檚 computer science department in the 1980s, he and his team developed techniques for computer graphics systems and image rendering that became industry standards. He has published over 40 papers, co-authored a textbook, is an inventor on some 70 patents, and is an Institute of Electrical and Electronic Engineers Fellow.

Poulton holds a B.S. from Virginia Tech, an M.S. from SUNY Stony Brook, and a Ph.D. from UNC-Chapel Hill, all in physics. He cotaught the first course in computer programming at Hollins as an assistant professor of physics from 1968-1970. His daughter, Sarah, is a member of Hollins鈥� class of 2006, and his grandmother, Elizabeth Macatee Poulton, was Hollins鈥� director of student housing from 1929 to 1951.

Anne Lindblad Quanbeck 鈥�79, a biostatistician with more than 38 years of experience serving both industry and government clients, is the president and CEO of Emmes, a global contract research organization. She has supported clinical research throughout her career, serving as principal investigator of projects spanning diverse disease areas, including oncology, dialysis, transplantation, ophthalmology, speech and hearing, dentistry, and neurology. She has contributed to the literature in such fields as patient-reported outcome development, central statistical monitoring as part of a risk-based monitoring plan, disease classification systems, and barriers to recruiting for clinical trials.

After completing her B.S. in statistics at Hollins, Quanbeck went on to earn an M.S. in biostatistics from the Medical College of Virginia/Virginia Commonwealth University, and a Ph.D. in statistics from George Washington University.

Barmeyer and Quanbeck began three-year terms on the board on July 1, while Hollingsworth and Poulton are filling two-year and one-year unexpired terms, respectively.

Despite, or perhaps due to, a volatile economic crisis brought on by the pandemic, donations for the year pushed the Hollins Fund for 2019-20 over its $3.55 million goal, almost $400,000 more than the university raised the previous year. Overall philanthropic gifts for the year totaled more than $11.7 million, again up a substantial amount compared to the previous year.

Clark Hooper Baruch 鈥�68, who chairs the development committee, credited the commitment of volunteers for much of the success. 鈥淭he volunteers were pivotal in generating and building the kind of momentum needed for this level of effort. They made a real difference, and it wasn鈥檛 just the impressive overall number of volunteers, but also the breadth of experiences and classes represented in that group that helps us engage with people beyond those who are already in the donor pool.鈥�

She especially emphasized the promising growth in younger alumnae/i volunteering. 鈥淭hey鈥檙e the key to securing a healthy future for Hollins the farther we travel into this century.鈥�

What is also clear in the rearview: Hollins alumnae/i and friends are generous in good times and bad, and they love a good challenge.

Last December, an anonymous donor offered to match every gift made in the month up to $100,000, and the challenge was met barely halfway into the month. The effort so impressed the donor that she promised to match any additional gift, up to $5,000, for the remainder of the calendar year.

Then, in June, another anonymous donor offered up $100,000 if Hollins could generate 500 donors in the month. The donor reiterated her conviction that Hollins is in a very strong place, but that 鈥渘ow is the time for anyone who cares about Hollins to give something, no matter what the size. There is no better time than now to show your support of Hollins.鈥�

Once again, the challenge was not only met, but swiftly, as the goal was met on June 21. Yet another donor offered an extra $25,000 if Hollins could generate another 100 gifts in the final nine days of the fiscal year鈥� and our donors responded with more than 350 additional gifts!

鈥淭his spring and summer have been such a roller coaster of emotions for us,鈥� said Suzy Mink, vice president for external relations. 鈥淲e have all been heartsick for the way the pandemic disrupted the campus experience for our students, faculty, and staff, and especially our graduating seniors. Further, we knew Hollins would face some unexpected financial strain from having to close the campus, and our office felt a tremendous responsibility to do what we could to minimize that strain.

鈥淲e were already impressed in the spring with how many of our alumnae/i reached out to us, or responded to our calls, with such incredible generosity, but then June kicked all of that to another level.鈥�

The Costly Road to Reopening

In the world of 鈥測es and鈥� news, yes, the successes of the FY20 fundraising efforts are cause for great celebration, and the added financial challenges of responsibly operating a complex small university during an ongoing pandemic are expected to continue piling up in the summer and fall months.

As of early July, the projected additional costs for unexpected operational needs around reopening the campus were at $600,000 and expected to increase as the term progresses. The added costs run from the expensive and complicated鈥攁dditional lab or photography equipment to minimize the need for sharing of items, for example鈥攖o the simple鈥� yet still expensive. An example of the latter is the projected costs for all the disinfecting wipes and hand sanitizing gels needed to meet the needs of keeping classrooms, common spaces, and equipment and appliances clean before and after use: $30,000. 鈥淭hat amount does not include all of the cleaning and disinfecting supplies that the facilities staff would be using daily,鈥� said Executive Vice President and Chief Operating Officer Kerry Edmonds, who said adding in those costs would more than triple the amount.

Edmonds said the ultimate challenge has been and remains preparing fiscally for the unknown.

鈥淗ollins is in a more secure position, financially and otherwise, than most small private colleges, but we can be almost certain this fall will come with added costs, and potential revenue losses, that we can鈥檛 reasonably project with the shifting landscape of this pandemic. Nevertheless, we are committed to doing what we can to make the fall term a positive and rewarding one for our students, while respecting the public health guidelines and health concerns for our entire community.鈥�

Student Village Update

When this issue went to press, the first three houses of Phase II of the Student Apartment Village were on course to be open and available for students by the start of fall term. The three new homes add 14 rooms and a total of 28 beds to the housing capacity. An additional three houses are planned鈥攆unding is still being secured鈥攚hich will bring the entire capacity for the area to as many as 98 beds.

One key factor in the effort was the securing of a $400,000 challenge from the Cabell Foundation in May 2019. Thanks to donors helping Hollins raise $1.2 million over a single year in support of the project, the grant was provided in June.

鈥淚t鈥檚 been so great to be able to gather and welcome people, whether it鈥檚 in our kitchen, or in the common space, or on our front porch in a rocking chair. Whether it鈥檚 studying or hanging out, it鈥檚 been a great place to just be together,鈥� said Monica Osborne 鈥�20 as she reflected on being one of the village鈥檚 inaugural residents.

The Student Village could be especially valuable in the fall, as their outdoor gathering areas work well for socially distanced gatherings, and their kitchen and living room areas will allow for several students to gather while maintaining the minimum distance expectations and wearing face masks.

Student Village Progress

May 12, 2020

May 26, 2020

June 22, 2020

July 15, 2020

As this magazine issue goes to press, more than 440,000 people globally have died from COVID-19.

Much of the world shut down in March to slow the spread of the coronavirus鈥夆�斺�塧nd that was true for Hollins, too. On March 20, Interim President Nancy Oliver Gray announced classes would be held online for the remainder of the semester. In a heartbreaking blow for Hollins seniors, commencement had to be postponed.

Just as the pandemic has affected people all over the globe, members of the Hollins community have seen their day-to-day existence altered by the virus. Here, we鈥檝e gathered stories from students, alumnae, and faculty on how COVID-19 impacted their lives.

Courtney Legum-Wenk 鈥�03 is an OB-GYN at Virginia Women鈥檚 Center in Richmond. She鈥檚 preparing herself for the second wave of COVID-19 that she believes is likely to hit the state in the fall.

So my practice is obstetrics and gynecology, and we cover four hospitals in the Richmond community. Very early in the crisis, we decided that as a practice, we would take half of our doctors and throw them into the hospital to only do hospital medicine. And then the other half would be just in the office. I was one of the ones who went into the hospital. I specifically go to Henrico Doctors鈥� Hospital Forest Campus, and I was there doing shift work for about seven-and-a-half weeks.

It was definitely hard at the beginning because each hospital was trying to do their very best with whatever protocol they decided on, but those protocols would often change daily. My fellow call partners and myself decided very early we would wear the N95 masks for all deliveries. My hospital didn鈥檛 start endorsing this policy until just three weeks ago.

We have had several positives [positive tests for COVID-19] not just at my practice, but in labor and delivery at the hospital. What鈥檚 been hard from the women鈥檚 health perspective is there鈥檚 so much that is unknown. At first they were like, 鈥淥h, there鈥檚 no transmission to the baby,鈥� but then a case study from China suggests it鈥檚 a possibility鈥攚hich is very scary. We have been lucky; at my hospital there have been no deaths from a women鈥檚 health perspective. However, my emergency room friend declared 10 people dead in one shift. This is local. It isn鈥檛 New York. It鈥檚 not Seattle. This is Henrico County.

The first couple of weeks were personally very hard. My husband is a pediatric ICU nurse at VCU, and I was pretty worried about him because he鈥檚 also a volunteer paramedic, and rides with one of the local rescue squads. So he is a health care worker in one of the largest teaching hospitals, as well as being out in the community on the ambulance. We鈥檝e developed an entire system for when we enter the house that involves immediately going to the basement, removing all clothing, showering and then putting our clothes, which potentially could carry the coronavirus, in the washer. I have designated shoes, pens, highlighters, and my hospital badge, which now stays in the car unless being used, and I Clorox wipe my car every morning on my way to work.

In March, my husband and I pulled out our wills, our power of attorney documents, and our medical advance directives. We reviewed our wishes and told our beneficiaries where in the house they could find the originals and copies, just in case. We even wrote down who gets Wink, our beloved bulldog, if tragedy hits. We have had very serious discussions between ourselves and with our friends who are also in health care regarding whether or not we want to be on a ventilator if we contracted COVID. Most of us have said out loud, 鈥淣o!鈥�

I鈥檝e had the personal protective equipment needed because some of it I obtained on my own; I have had friends who have given us masks and gloves, and my practice was very proactive at the beginning. PPE wasn鈥檛 lacking at the hospital, but there were strict rules to access it. I have banked several N95 masks and face shields at home that I haven鈥檛 used because I鈥檓 purposely waiting, just in case there鈥檚 an emergency.

Now things are opening up. I鈥檓 back in the office for certain days and we鈥檙e slowly transitioning to a more normal schedule. I haven鈥檛 had a direct exposure to a patient with COVID-19 that I know of, but I鈥檝e had exposure to other physicians who鈥檝e had exposures. I have a young patient who lost her partner to COVID-19 and another patient with COVID-19, who is younger than me, without any health issues, who had to be admitted to the ICU. None of my colleagues have tested positive yet.

We鈥檙e still wearing masks all the time. It鈥檚 the new normal, even just in basic clinical practice in the office. Basically, I take it off only to drink water, eat, and go to the bathroom. We鈥檙e not seeing the same capacity of patients as before, so we don鈥檛 have as many people in the waiting room area. Patients can鈥檛 bring visitors to their appointments, which has really impacted the pregnant patients who want their partners with them.

Tons of people have reached out, especially the local Hollins girls I鈥檓 friends with. People have made me masks and sent gifts. I have probably written more handwritten thank-you cards this year than I鈥檝e written since my wedding. I鈥檓 grateful for our scenario that we haven鈥檛 had a catastrophic event, and that both myself and my husband have stayed healthy. But there has been a certain level of guilt because I haven鈥檛 had it as bad as other doctors. I question whether I鈥檓 deserving of these gifts and the recognition. You hear these other stories that are just so much worse. All I want to do is hug these doctors and nurses who have seen all of this tragedy firsthand. Consequently, treating the long-term mental health of our health care workers after this pandemic is going to be really important. There鈥檚 going to be some serious PTSD. We need to learn now how to address it before it becomes its own pandemic.

鈥斕� As told to Beth JoJack 鈥�98, who lives and writes in Roanoke.

Maureen Lytle 鈥�20 of Fairfield, Pennsylvania, heard about the coronavirus not long after returning to Hollins from New York City, where she completed a J-Term internship at the nonprofit America Needs You, which assists low-income, first-generation college students.

It was right after my internship that we heard about what was happening, and we didn鈥檛 really know whether it would affect us at all or how serious it was going to get. From the news we heard, we knew it originated in China, and we didn鈥檛 know how it was going to spread. Once we knew that there were U.S. cases, we were paying close attention to the news from surrounding schools to see what they were doing to address the situation. On March 13, the administrators said we were going to go into spring break a week early. I got approval to stay on campus longer because I wanted to continue working at the Eleanor D. Wilson Museum, where I was an assistant, as long as possible. I didn鈥檛 know if I was going to have a job when (or if) we returned.

I found out we were transitioning to virtual learning on March 21. Since I read the announcement the day before I left Hollins to return home, I was able to pack up most of my belongings. I was quite upset when I found out we were going to have class online for the rest of the semester. I cried a lot and thought, 鈥淥kay, it鈥檚 actually over.鈥� I slowly processed all the things that weren鈥檛 going to happen, like things I wanted to do in Roanoke one last time. Things like going to the top of Mill Mountain at night again with my friends, or going to Benny鈥檚 for a late-night slice. I was thinking, 鈥淪hould I have done all these things sooner?鈥� But I still had classwork to do, so I figured I should focus on my studies first.

For my major in gender and women鈥檚 studies, we had an oral presentation where we present our final capstone projects. Since our class was really small, only three students in all, we got to work together closely and curated our projects together. I was really looking forward to going through that process with them and our advisor. My paper is an autoethnography titled, 鈥淭he Influence of Whiteness on My Familial Relationships Through Ownership, Capitalism, and Disconnection.鈥� Doing a project that revolves around your family while being surrounded by those family members is a unique challenge, and one I was not anticipating.

Maureen Lytle 鈥�20, Mitch Mitchell 鈥�20,
and Kalyn Chapman 鈥�20.

My girlfriend, who was one of my roommates at Hollins, lives in Manassas, Virginia, which is about two hours away from where I live. I went to her house for a couple of days in May and then we drove down in her van on the first day we were allowed to pack up our belongings at Hollins. We packed up our apartment and then we went to Bobby鈥檚 Hot and Cheesy for pizza and Blue Cow for ice cream. Then we went back to Hollins and finished up. It was sad to leave Hollins, but I knew I鈥檇 be back eventually.

It feels like there鈥檚 no closure. As a senior, at Hollins especially, we have so many traditions to participate in at the end of the year. We have senior week, which is a weeklong celebration the week before graduation, where we can spend time with friends and say all our final goodbyes. I鈥檒l probably never get to say goodbye to so many of the people who made my Hollins experience memorable.

My parents had a hotel booked for graduation, which they canceled once we heard the news. My parents, sister, and grandmother were going to attend. I鈥檓 not sure if I鈥檒l be at the graduation in September* yet depending on where I鈥檓 living and my financial situation. Graduation is a momentous occasion, especially for first-generation college students. It is a moment of triumph and celebration where you can show your family all you鈥檝e accomplished. I don鈥檛 think I鈥檓 going to have that moment in the same capacity.

Whenever I get upset about what happened, though, I remember, 鈥淛ust think of the alternative.鈥� We could have attended Hollins for the rest of the semester, but that wouldn鈥檛 have been safe. People鈥檚 health is at risk. I think we can be upset about what happened while understanding why it happened. It can be both.

I鈥檓 planning on finding a job in New York City and moving there. I want to live in a big city when I鈥檓 young. I wasn鈥檛 anticipating going to NYC at first. While living in the city during January for my internship, I thought it might be a little much to live there full time. But there are so many Hollins alums there who are willing to help and so many nonprofits (which is what I want to do). Now, that鈥檚 where I see myself going.

I鈥檓 applying to jobs every day and hoping I find the right opportunity. I鈥檓 trying to stay motivated because it鈥檚 easy to think, 鈥淥h, I鈥檒l be fine. I just need to wait it out.鈥� I want to really push hard now to make it happen.

鈥斕� As told to Beth JoJack 鈥�98

*听听 Hollins鈥� 178th commencement exercises have since been rescheduled for Memorial Day Weekend of 2021.

Ernie Zulia, associate professor and chair of the Hollins theatre department, was midway through rehearsals for Hollins鈥� spring production of The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time when the lights went out on campus.

Curious Incident is a show full of wonder and heart, and the entire cast had been basking in the deep satisfaction of a rich and exciting rehearsal process before this work we love was called to a halt. What to do? Continuing rehearsals in Zoomland was not practical. So out came the calendars and timelines, and come September, we are planning to pick up where we left off to open the show on October 22. So with determination, passion, and some good ole theatrical grit, we are embracing the old adage that the show must go on!

While we couldn鈥檛 rehearse in Zoomland, we did find ourselves going to class in this strange and foreign place online. My favorite class is called 鈥淧assion, Possibilities and Purpose: Personalizing the Art of Making Theatre.鈥� It鈥檚 a practical philosophy class, and is based in some pretty powerful discussion. The first day we met in Zoomland, we spent a lot of time checking in with each other and sharing a lot of feelings about our strange new circumstances. One of the things that came up a lot was how weird it was to be back at home, locked in with parents after experiencing an independent adult life at Hollins. I could totally relate鈥ut from a very different point of view.

At 5 a.m. the morning of March 14, two days after our last day of face-to-face classes, I was awakened by a call from Akron, Ohio. My 94-year-old dad had been rushed to the hospital with a torn muscle, which triggered a pretty severe heart incident. My 91-year-old mom was in lock-down at the retirement community they鈥檇 been living at for the past 14 months. Dad was alone in a hospital, and like the boogey man, the coronavirus was lurking under beds and behind doors and in closets.

After being so discombobulated by the shutdown of our campus, I suddenly felt blessed that I could grab my computer and office files and rush up to Ohio to be at my dad鈥檚 bedside so he wouldn鈥檛 have to be alone in the hospital. Ninety-four-year-olds are easily confused and disoriented, so I was grateful to be able to hold my dad鈥檚 hand and help him feel safe. He鈥檚 a World War II veteran and always felt it was his job to make others feel safe. Tables do turn.

It鈥檚 now five weeks later, and like so many of my students, I鈥檝e been living in quarantine with my parents. Dad needed 24-hour care, but the managers of the community were very skeptical about allowing a parade of caregivers to come through the doors and risk infecting the entire community. So even though family members are forbidden to visit, we struck a bargain: as long as I was willing to go into quarantine with them, I could move in and be their full-time caregiver.

I鈥檓 writing this in the fourth week of not setting foot outside a three-room independent living apartment鈥nd you know what, it鈥檚 been kinda wonderful. I teach and conduct theatre department business from my computer in the small den and sleep on the pull-out sofa in the living room. But more importantly, I鈥檝e been given the gift of some mighty precious time with two people I love. They鈥檙e not going to be around much longer (virus or no virus), so I consider these unexpected circumstances a real gift; precious time to hear poignant and funny stories of days gone by. But even better, I鈥檝e been given the rare opportunity to care for them the way they once cared for me when I was a vulnerable and defenseless child. In many ways, the elderly are quite child-like, which allows them to be more open and free to share their hearts and souls and the richness of lives well-lived. And I get to be there to check under the bed for monsters before we turn the lights out.

When this COVID craziness began, I never expected it to turn into such a blessed time, filled with so much love. I hope our entire Hollins family can find some semblance of a silver lining in this unprecedented time we are living through. As for me, being locked in with parents has turned into a true gift.

This is an edited version of an editorial written by Ernie Zulia that was also published in The Roanoke Times on May 3, 2020.

Erin Slattery-Duda 鈥�98 received an email from her daughter鈥檚 school on March 11, announcing students would transition to online learning the next day. The school was closing to slow the spread of the coronavirus.

The next afternoon, I took my daughter, Madeleine, to ride her scooter in the P.S. 187 schoolyard, a five-minute walk north from our apartment on the west side of Washington Heights in Manhattan. A dozen kids were there, zooming around on scooters, bikes, and roller skates, shouting in the late sunshine. My daughter raced off with glee with friends from our co-op apartment complex. I walked over to a friend鈥攖he mother of twin girls, my daughter鈥檚 friends鈥攕itting on the ground at the edge of the schoolyard. She looked anxious. We watched our girls circle the schoolyard in a blur of flying hair and chrome, and then she grimaced.

鈥淪even-year-olds just don鈥檛 get the idea of social distancing,鈥� she said, getting up.

I didn鈥檛 blame her at all, but my heart sank as my friend caught up to her girls and said a few words. The twins got off their scooters, looked up at their mom, and then followed her out of the schoolyard, glancing back at their friends. It felt like a punch in the gut. My daughter watched the twins go, then came over and slumped against me, upset, letting her scooter fall on its side.

The afternoon was a glimpse of the disappointment and confusion (especially for kids) that would come next. Everything began to be canceled鈥攕chool, a work dinner, work. Then the cancellations rolled into the weeks beyond, engulfing playdates, kids鈥� birthday parties and trips, as city hall urged residents to stay home. For our first-grader (as for so many other kids around New York City and around the world), it meant spending the last rainy weeks of March and early April cooped up with parents, mourning the temporary loss of friends in explosive ways that neither she nor we really understood.

Erin Slattery-Duda ’98 with daughter Madeleine.

We spent the first weeks of quarantine adjusting to all the sudden togetherness, feeling joyful one moment (having all three of us at home for dinner was an unexpected silver lining, even though the idea of a silver lining to a pandemic seemed wrong) and fearful, guilty, and frantic with worry the next. How would we quarantine one of us in our small apartment? What would happen to our daughter if both of us got sick? Was what was happening in Elmhurst, Queens, about to happen elsewhere in the city? Did we have a will? In disbelief, I sent a text to my brother and sister-in-law, asking them to be Madeleine鈥檚 guardians. We ordered plastic drop cloths to turn an eight-foot by four-foot space off our hallway that held bookshelves into a sick bay if we needed.

It was absurd. It felt inevitable that anyone left in the city would get it.

Our kid kicked off the first Monday of school online by showing up to breakfast in a narwhal costume. 鈥淎re we going to be okay?鈥� she asked through a mouthful of granola. My husband, Jakub, and I looked at each other.

鈥淚鈥ope so?鈥� I said. By then, we鈥檇 stocked up on masks and weren鈥檛 making any trips out of our neighborhood. But we soon began a kind of parallel living鈥攄uring the day, cheerful and optimistic in front of our daughter; at night, watching news footage from China, Italy, and Queens, scared and drained.

A week later, in Bennett Park, outside our apartment complex, we noticed that the city had locked the playground gates. Signs told New Yorkers that the playgrounds were closed until further notice. Everyone had deserted the park anyway, as the March rain began; only an occasional patrol car slowly went through the park with its lights on.

Although our neighborhood seemed empty, ambulances were everywhere. You become used to the sound of sirens here, but suddenly it was nonstop.

The one daily moment when everyone seemed to let out the breath they鈥檇 been holding all day was at 7 p.m., when neighborhoods leaned out the window and began to bang pots and pans in a show of support for health care workers. Our daughter joyfully smashed a saucepan and lid together at our kitchen window while neighbors across the courtyard, at their windows, did the same. One night, we were in the park at 7 p.m., and the sound was like an orchestra when the musicians take a deep breath and play one note, all at the same time: whistling, shouting, clashing pots and pans, drums, and the sound of a shofar rose up from apartment buildings on all sides.

We tried to order groceries online, rather than going to the supermarket. But the usual local delivery services, Peapod and FreshDirect, were swamped, and as soon as someone discovered a grocery delivery service with a few available delivery times, the city converged on it. Bent over my laptop in a makeshift office under our games shelf, trying not to bang my head on the shelf above me, I tried to figure out how to get groceries.

A couple of restaurant supply companies had pivoted to online retail; with another family in our apartment complex, we split an order that included 10 lbs. of chicken, eight lbs. of fruit, and 10 lbs. of carrots in a bright-orange bag the size of a toddler. The $10 we spent on a box of 200 small chocolate pieces, ostensibly for baking but great for stress-eating, remains the best purchase I made this spring.

Desperate to get out of the house, I started taking Madeleine to ride her scooter or bike in Bennett Park. By late April, other parents and kids began to come to the park, and we stood the requisite six feet apart, shivering, and trying to make normal parents-in-the-park conversation. It emerged that one family in our apartment complex had had the virus in March, but continued to come to the park, initially without masks, so their daughter could ride her bike. I remembered being at the park with them, and remembered the dad coughing at length. I felt a mix of shock, anger, and suspicion. What did it mean for everyone else鈥檚 kids? We were all just coasting on the hope that children didn鈥檛 seem to be coming down with the virus nearly as fast or as often as adults and the elderly. But was it nuts to hold that hope?

I knew there was a stark difference between my family鈥檚 experience this spring and that of families living on the east side of Washington Heights (and, beyond that, in the Bronx, hit almost as badly as Queens by the coronavirus). The coronavirus outbreak was so much more deeply felt a short walk away than in our neighborhood that the issues I dealt with鈥攚hich grocery delivery service to use, whether to let my kid bike outside in the large, leafy park for an hour, how many Amazon deliveries was too many鈥攚ere trivial. Being able to quarantine was a privilege. How you quarantined was a privilege. As April went into May, we looked for ways to support rent-cancellation drives, donate to a local food pantry, and contribute to a fundraiser for small-business owners in Upper Manhattan. None of it felt like enough, and none of it would be enough.听

鈥斕� Written by Erin Slattery-Duda 鈥�98, a freelance writer and editor living in New York City.

LeeRay Costa, professor and director of the gender and women鈥檚 studies department and director of faculty development, went to her office on March 15 to gather her books, files, course materials, and supplies with the hope that this new arrangement of working from home and teaching remotely would be temporary.

As I鈥檓 writing this, seven weeks have now passed and we have begun our last week of spring classes. On the one hand, I am admittedly relieved that what sometimes feels like the terrible, horrible, awful, no-good spring semester is finally coming to an end. On the other hand, I deeply miss my Hollins students and colleagues. And while I have secretly come to loathe the #Zoomlife and its inability to capture the joyful energy of being physically together, I cherish every moment I get to see you and talk with you, even on a screen. Unlike most of our students, I have the freedom and ability to return to campus, but I have avoided doing so because I can鈥檛 bear the thought of being there without all of you. This separation weighs heavily upon my heart and there have been days during this quarantine when I have felt unmoored and lost. I imagine you may have felt that way too.

This feeling of being lost conjures my experience of being a pilgrim. Five years ago during my sabbatical, I embarked on a pilgrimage. Over the span of 33 days, I walked 400 miles from Lisbon, Portugal to Santiago, Spain on the Way of St. James, also known as the Camino de Santiago. I walked for many reasons: personal, professional, physical, and spiritual, and imagined myself following in the footsteps of my Portuguese ancestors.

My journey was a decade in the making, and I had prepared for months before embarking on it. Nevertheless there were days when I found myself off track and distressed. The truth is, even when we think we know the path and have a map to give us direction, we may unexpectedly find ourselves lost along the way. This lostness can be disorienting and even scary. And it can simultaneously offer up profound life lessons: crystalizing for us our strengths and sense of purpose and illuminating for us what we cherish most.

The Camino de Santiago is indicated by a series of waymarkers, usually yellow arrows or golden scallop shells. These are maintained by volunteers of local pilgrim associations and offered as an act of kindness and support for those making the journey. As I walked, those waymarkers provided me with a sense of confidence and reassurance. I smiled and whispered my gratitude each time I discovered one.

More often than not, camino waymarkers are easily visible, though sometimes they are hidden, and occasionally they are present yet terribly confusing. I will never forget a particular section of the camino near Porri帽o. Apparently, members of the community surrounding this area were arguing over the route. Some wanted it to flow directly through the very industrial and concrete center, so that they could benefit economically from the pilgrims who were likely to stop and buy food and supplies. Others wanted to divert pilgrims to a path through the woods, to preserve the reflective nature of their journey and to physically prevent them from walking on dangerously trafficked roads. What resulted were a series of competing waymarkers that had been repeatedly covered over, with new arrows spray painted in their place. Each morning individuals from opposing sides would set out to conceal the marks of their rivals. For unsuspecting pilgrims like me this resulted in confusion about the way forward and dread that I might make a wrong turn and lose my way.

There have been days during the quarantine when I have felt transported to that moment of fear, confusion and anger over a situation I did not create but must figure out how to handle. Like many of you, I have stumbled my way through new modes of teaching, learning, working, communicating and sharing space and resources with folks whom I love dearly but who occasionally get on my nerves. I have had to make hard choices about what and whom to prioritize and how to get the necessary tasks of everyday living accomplished while struggling with a lack of motivation and tearfully mourning the many losses I have experienced and continue to witness all around me. I have felt the despair of not knowing what lies ahead and longed for the unambiguous waymarkers that remind me that everything is going to be all right.

My pilgrim experience also reminds me that sometimes those clear and reassuring waymarkers are actually right in front of me, but I remain unable to recognize them. This may be because I am distracted and have let my attention wander, or because I am so lost in the story unfolding in my own mind that I have ignored the signs all around me telling me and showing me something quite different. As I have revisited these lessons and brought them to bear on the current moment, I have realized that at least some of this feeling of being unmoored and lost is tied to the experience of being displaced: displaced from our beautiful campus, our beloved Hollins community, and our treasured rituals that create a sense of certainty, connection, and shared purpose.

And yet, even in this displacement, our waymarkers remain. Because whether you recognize it or not, each one of us 鈥� students, faculty, staff, administrators, alumnae/i 鈥� is a yellow arrow, a golden camino shell, for someone else in our community. Individually and collectively, we provide direction, reassurance, a sense of calm and support for one another, no matter where we happen to be currently residing. Perhaps this is something our alumnae/i know best, scattered as they are across the globe but forever knitted into the Hollins experience.

These waymarkers, embodied in the members of the Hollins community, inspire me and remind me that no matter how isolated or lost I may feel, I am not alone. Through our relationships, our shared experiences and our mutual care for one another, we form a network of connection and hope that transcends both time and place, and that can anchor and fortify us in these unpredictable times. As we continue through the end of the term, into summer and beyond, I encourage you to look for the yellow arrows and golden scallop shells that surround you, to delight in their shine and to give thanks for their presence on our collective journey.

鈥擶ritten by LeeRay Costa

When masks began selling out in Korea, Josalyn Knapic M.F.A. 鈥�17 realized the world was about to change.

Songdo is a neighborhood in the city of Incheon built on manmade land. Our neighborhood runs along the seaside, with downtown Incheon and Seoul to our east and the Yellow Sea and China directly to our west. Songdo鈥檚 aesthetic is the complete opposite of the rest of Korea. There is abundant and open space, at least four lanes for traffic, and clusters of apartment housing are surrounded by large artificial parks. Much of the land is still underdeveloped, as blocks of tall reeds grow next to new shiny buildings next to construction sites. Restaurants and shops are clustered here and spread out. Many residents rely on driving.

I came here for a job teaching at the first American university in Korea. Upon moving to Songdo, I immediately missed Daejeon鈥檚 convoluted alleyways, its lively streets, the mom-and-pop stores on every corner, old brick houses scrunched up next to each other with their traditional ornate gates, decorated roof tiles and kimchi pots. When I moved to a modern high-rise at the edge of Songdo, I felt I lost something special. But as the virus started to spread throughout Korea, I couldn鈥檛 help thinking that the large open roads and wetland that surrounded our area was something to be grateful for.

Then鈥�January
Korea is a mask-wearing country鈥攖here are masks in convenience stores, grocery stores, and pharmacies. In Korea, it is very common for people to wear a mask regardless of time of day. It could be used to hide a puffy face after a night out drinking, to aid against Korea鈥檚 air pollution, to protect a surgical procedure, a developing cough, or just an easy way to hide from looking particularly haggard that day.

A week or so after the news of COVID-19 was beginning to spread in China, my in-laws and I were on our way to Korea鈥檚 Jeju-do, an island southwest of the Korean peninsula. We had planned a four-day family trip.

It took us driving to three grocery stores to find enough KF94 masks for everyone to last the whole trip. Residents crowded the mask sections at the grocery stores as workers cut open delivery boxes.

As we took in Jeju鈥檚 natural landmark sites, we also took in the news from televisions in restaurants and our hotels. We watched how the virus was declared an imminent threat, and how Koreans were demanding the president to ban Chinese from entering its borders. Instead, travel advisories were issued and a limited ban to foreigners from China鈥檚 Hubei province was made.

Then鈥�February
We were kept informed as patient numbers grew. The government still refused to close borders, but the authorities began warning everyone to stay indoors and avoid crowds and large gatherings. People listened. Hand sanitizers were duct-taped inside elevators. Restaurants and shops began closing a little earlier than usual. People wore masks everywhere, even in offices.

Brief text messages in Korean accompanied by a red megaphone began to appear up to four times a day on our phones: Korea鈥檚 emergency alert system. Its occasional alerts usually warned people about air pollution, but now they were about the coronavirus.

Cases started to appear closer to our neighborhood. The 19th patient was confirmed at an outlet mall four blocks from our house. The shopping mall closed for two days for disinfection. Driving in a taxi on the way home from a dermatology appointment, I saw a large truck with a mixer on its back spraying a fog of sanitizer, coating the parking lot. Workers in hazmat suits sprayed sanitizing guns all over the sidewalks.

Then and Now
To understand Korea鈥檚 successful response to COVID-19 is to be aware of Korea鈥檚 tumultuous past with its neighboring countries. From defending itself against attacks from China, overcoming a decades-long colonization by Japan and its own military dictatorship, as a nation Korea has learned that survival depends on the tenacity of its people. Korea has also been technically at war with communist North Korea since 1953, even when day-to-day life here makes you forget this.

When difficult times arrive in Korea, there is an unspoken trust that the people will band together and fight against it. Korea is a collectivist culture, while America is an individualistic one. As my students and I learn about these differences in class, each type of culture brings advantages and disadvantages. In a nationwide crisis, I have to say that a collective culture and its 鈥渉ive mind鈥� mentality is beneficial for all citizens.

Now鈥�March
My husband and I take a trip to the grocery store. When we arrive, we are surprised to witness a long line of people waiting at the pharmacy. They stand close to each other, eager for the line to begin moving. The pharmacist, a man in a white coat, is talking to the people near the front.

Pharmacies are scheduling mask distribution times, two boxes per person. We contemplate waiting in line until we see it鈥攖he line wraps all the way to other end of the building.

I tell relatives back in the States: buy N95 masks, buy a thermometer. Check temperatures.

Then鈥�February
One reason Korea鈥檚 response to COVID-19 has been swift is that health care in Korea is affordable, reliable, and easily accessible.

After the MERS epidemic in 2015, Korea鈥檚 Centers for Disease Control reassessed its systems and gave priority to learning how to better handle infectious diseases. After the fourth COVID-19 patient was confirmed in Korea, researchers had enough hindsight to believe this to be a possible pandemic and acted accordingly. They also believed early testing was the only way to prevent the virus from spreading.

Residents were urged not to go into hospitals to reduce the chance of infecting workers and other patients. Instead, screening centers were set up. For perspective, South Korea is roughly the size of Indiana. Preparations were made for 635 clinics and screening centers.

If someone exhibits symptoms, they are told to call a special number to find the location of the nearest screening center or, if needed, authorized paramedics.

If one does have to go to the hospital, workers do a preliminary screening to anyone who enters.

I visited a local university hospital to discuss bloodwork I had done a month prior. Once there, I found all the entrances blocked except one. Hospital workers in hazmat suits were lined up at tables inside with forms written in Korean. Not understanding at first, and with no one approaching me, I tried to simply walk through. I stood there, confused, until another worker finally put a form written in English in my hand. It asked for my identification details, if I or a relative had visited China recently, and when, and if I exhibited any symptoms. I signed the form. Only after they took my temperature was I let through.

Now鈥�March
听My in-laws video chat us from Daejeon. My father-in-law just finished self-quarantine and tested negative. They are celebrating with fried chicken. They ask how my parents are doing. I haven鈥檛 talked to my parents since last month, when the virus was beginning to spread. My mom and dad are both nurses.

I text my mom to ask how everyone is. She tells me about my four siblings in the U.S.鈥攕ome are working from home; some are not.

I ask if they were being provided hazmat suits at work. My mom says they were used two weeks ago for a suspected TB case, but she doesn鈥檛 know how many are available. She tells me they designated the fourth floor of her hospital for potential virus patients, and they were asking for more hazmat suits. However, they are worried that companies will be too swamped with orders to deliver soon. My dad works at a surgical center, but his hours have been cut in half. My mom tells me they are excited that he just got extra work being a visitor screener at the main entrance to the hospital. For the first time, I begin to feel a little nervous.

When she told my dad I texted, he wanted her to tell me: 鈥淲hat doesn鈥檛 kill you makes you stronger.鈥�

Then she adds, 鈥淗e鈥檚 joking as usual.鈥�

The feeling in the pit of my stomach grows.

鈥擜 longer version of this essay, written by Josalyn Knapic ran in the online literary journal Scoundrel Time on March 31. Reprinted with permission.

Sajila Kanwal 鈥�22 travels from Gilgit, Pakistan, to Hollins, where she鈥檚 majoring in international studies and minoring in social justice. In early March, Kanwal panicked when she heard her fellow students buzzing about the possibility that the campus might close because of the coronavirus.

My mind was racing, and I didn鈥檛 know what to do. I couldn鈥檛 go home to Pakistan because I was scared that I would get coronavirus while I was traveling, and I didn鈥檛 want to give this virus to my family. Because I live in northern Pakistan, I would have had to take a plane and a bus, and every city I traveled through, I would have gone under quarantine. I would have spent the entire summer break in quarantine.

I have a host family here. I see them as family. They told me to relax and stay in the U.S. here instead of going back home. So I decided to stay.

When Hollins announced classes would be online for the rest of the semester, all the international students were still on campus in their dorms. Soon after, Hollins made arrangements for most of the international students to go home and even paid for their tickets. The university arranged transportation to take the international students to Washington, D.C., for their flight. Unfortunately, all of these students came back because they couldn鈥檛 go home, because the flights were canceled and the borders of their countries were closed because of the virus. The students were quarantined at the old apartments across the street from the campus.

Since I had decided not to go home, I had stayed on campus, living in my dorm room in Tinker. After our friends came out of quarantine, all of the international students moved to the apartments. I鈥檓 very grateful to Hollins, the way they have responded to this pandemic; the way they treat the international students to make them feel safe. They鈥檙e providing us food. They have provided free housing. Our professors and the staff members are checking on us.

My spring semester was going to be my best semester because all the classes I took in the spring were amazing. I was taking a refugee resettlement class, a world religion and politics class, intro to international relations, and cultural geography. I鈥檓 a person who understands more when I am with people. When Hollins switched to online classes, I was just devastated. I was like, 鈥淭his is not for me.鈥� It was difficult for me to keep up, so I had been in contact with my professors. I鈥檓 like 鈥淚 can鈥檛 do it. Help me.鈥� I鈥檓 so happy that my professors helped me a lot in this and getting me back to the level that I鈥檇 been at before.

All the time, I am sad that I cannot see my friends. I cannot see my professors. I cannot go out. I cannot see my parents, and I cannot go back to Pakistan. That made me so depressed, because I thought, 鈥淎t this point, people should be with their family.鈥� I was really worried about my family back home and they were so worried about me. Since the number of coronavirus cases was so much higher in the United States, my mom would call me twice a day, asking, 鈥淗ow are you doing?鈥�

I had a lot of plans for my spring semester and my summer in the United States, but everything was shot with this one virus hitting the world.

鈥斕� As told to Beth JoJack 鈥�98

When Americans first began staying at home as much as possible to slow the spread of COVID-19, Darla Schumm, the John P. Wheeler Professor of Religion and chair of the faculty at Hollins, noticed her friends and family bemoaning the loss of 鈥渘ormal life.鈥�

In these coronavirus dazed days, I keep noticing people yearning for a return to 鈥渘ormal.鈥� Social media accounts are flooded with memories of normal activities from past times. Political pundits prognosticate about when the economy will return to normal. As disability studies scholar Lennard Davis observes, we live in a culture propelled by the 鈥渉egemony of normalcy.鈥�

As I faithfully practice social distancing while working from the couch, interacting only with two humans (my husband and son), one dog and one parakeet, several questions float to the surface of my mind. What was this 鈥渘ormal鈥� to which we so desperately long to return? For whom was the 鈥渘ormal鈥� of even just a month ago so wonderful? Do we really want to go back to 鈥渘ormal?鈥�

Questioning a glorified notion of normal is not new for many of us who live with disabilities. The disruptions, chaos, stresses, fears, anxieties, and uncertainties unleashed by the onset of COVID-19 are all too familiar to people with disabilities. The 鈥渘ew normal,鈥� so unsettling and shocking for the majority of Americans, is, for people with disabilities, simply the old normal. We understand the stress and fear accompanying life in a body that surprises you with its inability (sudden or expected) to perform typical functions. Many of us recognize feelings of loneliness and isolation resulting from social distancing, whether it is externally imposed because of a global pandemic, or because exposure to large groups of people is potentially dangerous to our health even without a pandemic. Still more of us know all too well that the intersections of race, class, gender, and disability exacerbate the precarious nature of our economic stability. In other words, the 鈥渘ew normal鈥� is not new at all; rather it is an old reality avoided, ignored, dismissed, and denied by systems and structures of power and privilege that fuel extreme poverty, inequity, and injustice.

Even as I am acutely aware of the tragic wreckage wreaked by COVID-19, I stubbornly refuse to let the end of this story be one of complete despair. How can we map the terrain of a new normal rooted in principles of justice and equity? What are some religious teachings that can inform our creative imagining and mapping of this future new normal?

The wells of religious teachings for re-molding the contours of the hegemony of normalcy run deep. I offer some entry points into this creative imagining by drawing from the well of Buddhist teachings and from my embodied experience as a person with a disability.

Buddhism teaches that impermanence is the true nature of reality. The only constant in life is that life is constantly changing. Suffering results from our inability to grasp the true nature of an impermanent reality, or conversely, from our clinging to a desire that things remain the same. According to this worldview, it is not change that causes suffering, but our inability to accept the inevitability of change.

Buddhism further emphasizes the interdependence of all sentient beings. We dwell in an interconnected web of existence where my suffering and your suffering, or your joys and my joys, are inextricably linked. Suffering or joy do not belong to any one individual, they belong to the collective community. The medieval Indian monk Shantideva describes it this way: 鈥淚 should eliminate the suffering of others because it is suffering, just like my own suffering. I should take care of others because they are sentient beings, just as I am a sentient being. When happiness is equally dear to others and me, then what is so special about me that I strive after happiness for myself alone?鈥�

As a blind person, I am intimately acquainted with the Buddhist conceptions of impermanence and interdependence. Inhabiting a non-normative body means that in some circumstances I can count on my embodied knowledge, but in other situations I cannot. Contrary to what most able-bodied folks think, this is neither tragic nor scary; rather it is my normal. In fact, it affords me frequent and welcome opportunities to discover surprising and delightful ways of being in the world. I rarely expect constancy or stability because I understand at a cellular level that life is unpredictable and ever-changing. Likewise, blindness reminds me daily of my interconnectedness with others. There are basic life tasks I simply cannot complete without assistance. As a fiercely self-possessed woman, I have learned to graciously and humbly ask for help, and I in turn strive to return those kindnesses whenever possible.

The novel coronavirus has revealed much about the hegemony of normalcy in American culture and society. It has demonstrated the fragility of some of our most dearly held institutions. It has illuminated with new and disturbing clarity the overwhelming gaps between the haves and have-nots. It has shifted the very foundation of almost everything we thought we knew about the world. Yet, these seismic shifts have also cracked open possibilities for imagining and creating a new normal鈥攁 normal grounded in the beauty of impermanence and the gift of interconnectedness.

鈥擜 longer version of Darla Schumm鈥檚 essay was posted on the Berkley Center for Religion, Peace, and World Affairs at Georgetown University website on April 17. Reprinted with permission.听

听Tori Carter 鈥�21, a creative writing major from Halifax County, faced the coronavirus in Japan during her study abroad semester.

听My dad was the last family member I saw face-to-face before entering security at the Raleigh-Durham International Airport. After landing at the Kansai International Airport, I used all the Japanese I knew talking to the customs agents. When I bought dinner, I struggled to read the kanji for the different foods. I was surprised to find only one hotel had a vacancy鈥夆�斺�塧nd it was located 30 minutes away. I wasn鈥檛 comfortable with that, so I decided to stay overnight in the airport.

I鈥檇 studied Japanese for three years, and I鈥檇 eagerly awaited my trip to Japan. It wasn鈥檛 the first time I had been abroad; I went on the Jamaica Cultural Immersion Trip during Spring Break. But this was the first time I had ever traveled alone, and I was a little scared.

That night, I kept occupied reading some of the English-language tourist magazines about things to do in Hirakata, where Kansai Gaidai University is based. At some point, as I sat in a near empty airport, it hit me: I was completely alone.

This feeling did not leave me for three weeks. Anxiety, sensory overload, wandering thoughts, and deep episodes of melancholy and depression were everyday issues. It eased a bit as I started classes and focused on my studies. Still, it stayed at the back of my mind.

It was not long, luckily, until I made some friends. We went together on train rides, day trips on the weekends to D艒tonbori and Kyoto temples, and shared late-night drinks. My unit mates and I had parties where we would make takoyaki (octopus balls), okonomiyaki (a savory Japanese pancake), and celebrate Japanese holidays. I could even walk at 2 a.m. to the nearest convenience store to grab a late snack with my friends. I was on top of the world.

The coronavirus had just started to dominate the news cycle in the United States, but in Japan, it hadn鈥檛 yet gotten much airtime. It wasn鈥檛 until the end of February, when the first cases in Tokyo started and the virus spread rapidly, that my friends and I started to wonder what would happen with our program. My parents were more worried about me being exposed as I traveled back to the United States than about me staying put.

On my 21st birthday, March 10, administrators announced my program would become fully online from that point forward. They suggested we return home. I was upset to hear my friends planned to leave. The COVID-19 pandemic had not been fully felt in Japan just yet, so it hurt to lose out on an experience I had spent my whole life working toward. It was still safe to travel throughout the prefectures and go out to eat, so I celebrated with one last sushi dinner with my friends.

Before, I had everything planned to leave Japan on May 31. After talking with my parents, we made a plan: I could stay a bit longer as long as I set up a backup plan to return home when it got to be too much. Over another two months in Japan, I took many more day trips to see the sakura trees bloom, went out to nightclubs, and studied at beautiful temples. Finally, I decided it was time. I had experienced all I could, and I missed being in the same time zone as my friends back home. I began my trip back to the United States on May 1.

Because the Kansai International Airport had canceled all flights leaving Japan through May 30, I had to go to Narita Airport in Tokyo to fly out. The six-hour journey to Tokyo was quiet and lonely. On the Shinkansen (bullet train), there was almost no one close to me. Everyone wore their masks, washed their hands regularly, and avoided touching others. The plane rides were just as quiet. I took three connection flights: Tokyo to Seoul, Seoul to Atlanta, and Atlanta to Raleigh. Each flight was near empty, with almost everyone having a row of seats to themselves. Through the whole journey, I wasn鈥檛 afraid that I would catch the virus. I had grown accustomed to Japan鈥檚 normalized use of masks even before the pandemic, so I trusted others to be safe and wear their masks like me.

When I got to Raleigh, my brother drove me back to Virginia. I would isolate at my mother鈥檚 apartment for two weeks before I could even hug my mother or talk to her face-to-face. It was a struggle adjusting back to life stateside, especially in a pandemic. Memories from my time abroad got me through it.

鈥斕� Written by Tori Carter 鈥�21

Bri Seoane 鈥�01 took her kids out of school on March 5, a week before the official order came down for California schools to close.

I work very closely with the children鈥檚 hospitals in the Bay Area; that鈥檚 part of my job at Ronald McDonald House Charities. We provide programming inside the hospitals, so infection control is something we鈥檙e really concerned about, because our mission is to offer safe housing and community support and access to health care for the sickest of the sick children, and most of them are immunosuppressed. Because of that, I probably have a little more access to information and understanding about epidemiology, and I could see the writing on the wall.

At that point, our organization had already made the decision to have all nonessential employees work from home. We wanted to get as few people on-site having contact with immunosuppressed kids as possible. But, that weekend, mandatory precautions were issued for hospitals to close down anything considered nonclinical, and that included our Ronald McDonald House and the programs that we were providing. They also would no longer let more than one caregiver into the hospital at a time, so there were all kinds of family members who needed to get home. It was sweeping and it was immediate. I got a phone call Sunday afternoon and it was like: It鈥檚 go time, we have to have all of this done by Monday at noon.

I went into work. My younger daughter was with her dad鈥攚e鈥檙e separated, and it was his visitation day鈥攕o I called my mom to take care of her from that night onward. The next few days, I worked 12 to 14 hour days inside the hospital trying to redirect donations, getting families what they needed before we had to stop our meal program, and dealing with a lot of really emotional parents who were super terrified and not able to be at their child鈥檚 bedside anymore. It was incredibly soul-crushing, emotional work.

When I got home late Tuesday night, it sort of hit me that, although there hadn鈥檛 been any positive tests yet, it was very likely there were carriers in the hospitals that just hadn鈥檛 been detected. I told my 19-year-old step-daughter鈥攚ho I have raised since she was seven鈥攖hat she needed to go to her biological mom鈥檚 house for two weeks, because I was concerned that I had been exposed. Same with the little one, I just left her with my mom, packed up a bunch of her stuff, and left it outside my mom鈥檚 house. It was totally heartbreaking.

Lo and behold, 10 days later, I got a fever and a headache. I was very flushed. I was wandering around the house in a tank top and underwear. I took a cold shower. I took Tylenol and went to bed. I felt exhausted and drained. I slept for 18 hours a day for four days straight. I had to set alarms so I would get up, hydrate, take Tylenol. I didn鈥檛 get the coughing, but I definitely felt pressure in my chest. I also lost my sense of taste, which was really bizarre.

It was a pretty mild or moderate case. I was sick for six days alone at home. I didn鈥檛 feel scared. I felt like I had done everything I needed to protect the people I love. If I could think of one word that has described this moment in time for me as a mom, it鈥檚 been about protection. It鈥檚 about protecting them from a virus when I knew I was exposed to and making that difficult decision.

It鈥檚 also about protecting them even now that the courts are closed. My husband and I are separated. We鈥檙e not officially divorced yet, because all the courts are closed right now. The reason we split was because of a domestic violence issue, and I had to get a restraining order. Although that is in place, a lot of the details haven鈥檛 been fully ironed out. I鈥檝e lost access to all the instruments of the law that I had been relying on to keep us safe and protected all along. We鈥檙e in limbo about really important things like visitation and custody and support orders.

Last week, once I was fever-free for 48 hours, I checked with my doctor, and I was able to see my kids again. I spent a couple days disinfecting the entire house and then I went to pick up the little one at my mom鈥檚 house. When I picked her up, she was so excited to see me. I burst into tears, because it had been 17 days. I鈥檝e never been apart from her that long.

My oldest came home, but just recently she left, because her mom has needed her to provide care for her younger brother. I鈥檓 still calling her, like, 鈥淚 saw you got a new AP Econ assignment, have you done the readings?鈥� I鈥檓 still parenting from afar.

Now, I鈥檓 not able to start my workday and focus until after 11 a.m. because my youngest has a morning Zoom class with her teacher and I have to sit next to her for most of her work. I save the things she can do independently for the afternoon, which is when I play defense, trying to keep her occupied while I do my Zoom meetings. I am 100 percent okay with the reckless use of screen-time. Last night I was working after her bedtime, from 8:30 p.m. to midnight, just to catch up.

But now we鈥檙e having meals together, which we never did before, because I would get home so late, so she would eat with the sitter or her sister. We鈥檙e eating together, she鈥檚 helping me cook, those moments are such the silver-lining to all of this. I think I will look back at this as such a gift of time.

鈥擜 longer version of this essay, edited by Tracy Clark-Flory, was published on the website Jezebel on April 8. Reprinted with permission.

The 1918 Spanish Flu
by Peter Coogan, associate professor of history

The disease struck suddenly. People with no symptoms one day became desperately ill within 24 hours and often died within a matter of days. Hospitals were overwhelmed as wards filled with those fighting to live and nurses and doctors joined the sick and dying. Critical supplies disappeared as workers fell ill, production declined, and the transportation network broke down. Unscrupulous vendors took advantage of desperate victims with snake oil remedies and inadequate protections. Scientists and physicians scrambled to find vaccines and treatments, often without adequate financial support or critical cooperation for systematic research. Schools closed, businesses failed, and government operations nearly shut down. Military bases and ships were hit especially hard, but government censorship vainly attempted to keep that information from the public. The president, focused on foreign policy crises, abdicated leadership responsibilities and never expressed sympathy for the thousands of families who suffered losses. Instead, political leaders at all levels of government appeared powerless to do anything but try to rename the disease to focus blame overseas.

At the same time, the country exploded in racial violence. Cities burned as African Americans demanded, and were repeatedly denied, the most fundamental of civil rights. White supremacists struck back with lynching and the destruction of thriving minority economic centers. To many, the country seemed on the verge of disintegration, with the privileged fighting to maintain their prerogatives and the disadvantaged struggling to survive.

Image from the 1918 Spinster

No, that is not a summary of this week鈥檚 CNN, The New York Times, or even the Huffington Post. The events described above all happened in America during 10 months in 1918. Over the next two years, an outbreak of a previously unknown strain of H1N1 influenza killed over 600,000 in the United States and over 50 million, and possibly as many as 100 million, worldwide. Despite frequent governmental references to the 鈥淪panish influenza,鈥� researchers today generally agree that the virus mutated somewhere in Kansas and spread primarily though military training bases for the American Expeditionary Force, which after the country鈥檚 declaration of war against Germany in April 1917 was preparing for deployment to the Western Front in the First World War. The disease quickly wiped out whole bases and spread to surrounding communities, as medical professionals seemed helpless to treat it or prevent its spread. President Woodrow Wilson, consumed with winning the war and subsequently dictating the peace, provided neither financial support to the devastated American economy nor moral support to traumatized American communities.

In July 1919, the city of Chicago exploded in racial violence as African Americans sought to swim at the city鈥檚 segregated public beaches. Much of the South Side went up in flames and between 38 and 60 residents were murdered. Two years later, the Black district of Tulsa, Oklahoma, known as the Black Wall Street, was burned to the ground by an armed white mob, with the result that the city鈥檚 Black residents were either killed and buried in mass graves or forced to leave town with nowhere to go. The violence affected cities across America from 1918 to 1921, with the added targets often including leftist labor unions, Jewish communities, and civic improvement groups not controlled by conservative white citizens. In Indiana, the Ku Klux Klan became one of the most powerful political forces in the state, touting 鈥�100% Americanism.鈥�

Today, as in 1918, the nation was blindsided and crippled by a public health crisis. Those tensions exposed visceral cleavages within American society that quickly erupted in violence, demands for fundamental social change, and accusations of 鈥渦n-American鈥� behavior. When Americans looked to their leaders for help, they found nothing. As John Barry, the author of the bestselling The Great Influenza, wrote in 2004, 鈥淭hose in authority must retain the public鈥檚 trust. The way to do that is to distort nothing, to put the best face on nothing, to try to manipulate no one.鈥� We could have learned much from 1918. We chose not to, at a terrible, terrible price. In the words of Sir Winston Churchill, 鈥淚n history lies all the secrets of statecraft.鈥�

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By Jean Holzinger M.A.L.S. 鈥�11

Looking back on her days at Hollins, Eudora Ramsay Richardson, class of 1909, remarked that her alma mater was always ahead of its time, 鈥渋f not with the radicals, at least in the vanguard of the conservatives.鈥�

Richardson, who in 1936 wrote a book about women and public speaking (The Woman Speaker), and was active in women鈥檚 causes, had it about right in her assessment of her college and its students鈥� attitudes toward the 19th amendment. They were slow to embrace women鈥檚 suffrage, in part because Hollins discouraged any kind of political talk. The 1891-92 catalog, for example, includes this admonition:

But a boarding school for girls, of all places, is the most inappropriate arena for the discussion of party politics and sectarian tenets and distinctions. We discourage all such discussions.

And in 1895, a student dismissed the cause in an editorial in the Semi Annual:

Forgive us, gentle reader, if we evade a discussion of that intangible something, 鈥淭he Woman Question.鈥� We fear that in the inevitable future woman鈥檚 suffrage will come, but at present the movement is in its infancy鈥攁nd perhaps this accounts for the fact that our junior philosophers have found its childish prattle wholly illogical.

By 1912, the mood had shifted, as Beth Harris, university special collections librarian and archivist, observed. One student noted (鈥淧olitics Viewed from the Hollins Angle鈥� by J. B., Nov. 1912, Hollins Magazine) that 鈥渨e are as yet too conservative to adopt the 鈥榁otes for Women鈥� cry at Hollins, but amongst most of the girls the subject of politics is discussed with enthusiasm.鈥�

For a library exhibition she put together several years ago about Hollins and the 19th amendment, Harris found a variety of clues to the thinking on campus: among them, a speech given at Hollins in 1878 by Dr. J. J. Moorman, a Salem physician, about the 鈥渉orrors of Women鈥檚 Rights鈥� (reported in Hollins Magazine); and a reading at the 1882 commencement by a student, M. Lou Palmer, which posed this provocative question: 鈥淚s It True that There Is a Growing Danger of Women Losing Caste in America?鈥�

Minds began to open, gradually, in the early years of the new century. For example, an editorial in a 1910 issue of Hollins Magazine asked, 鈥淚s the Hollins Girl of To-day Ignorant of Contemporary Events?鈥� And, according to Harris, after several prominent members of the Equal Suffrage League of Virginia visited campus in 1914, a student reported in Hollins Magazine that 鈥渘ot everyone at Hollins became a suffragist forthwith, but a surprising number of suffrage buttons were seen in the next day or two, and all who heard the able and earnest addresses realized that at least no woman of today has a right to be indifferent toward this much mooted question.鈥�

Students began exploring the pros and cons of women鈥檚 rights, including suffrage, in their works of fiction, too. The 1911 May Day celebration, for example, included a performance of a student-written play called My Wife Is a Suffragette! 鈥淢argaret Decides鈥� (Hollins Magazine, 1914, by Judith Riddick) is a story about a young woman who argues with her boyfriend about her membership in the Woman Suffrage League before he goes off to war. By the time he returns, she has decided to quit the league, but he鈥檚 found someone else (more pliable?) to marry.

鈥淲e feel as though we had, to some听 degree, paved the way for our first real
voting at some time in the near future.鈥�

Of course in 1920, the 19th amendment became law. Hollins students who were 21 that November could vote in the official elections. For those too young to vote, students held a mock election, with elaborate preparations leading up to the ballot. Frances Warren, class of 1923, wrote in Hollins Magazine (Dec. 1920):

Monday night the Republicans took the school entirely by surprise when they marched upon the campus in a torch light parade. 鈥� However, the Democrats were not to be outdone by their opponents, and so on Tuesday they came forth with an equally original and inspiring demonstration. 鈥� And now it is time for the most important action of the day鈥攖he casting of the votes. This was accomplished in a systematic way and a true political spirit, according to the rules and regulations of the polls.

The Democrat, James Cox, won the campus, if not the national, vote. All in all, wrote Warren, 鈥淲e feel as though we had, to some degree, paved the way for our first real voting at some time in the near future.鈥� In March 1921, Hollins Magazine reported that graduating seniors, 鈥渕any of whom were able to vote the first time, were addressed at commencement as 鈥榝ellow citizens鈥� on a subject in keeping with their new privilege and position.鈥�

By Dan Kois

Anne Carroll Moore was appointed New York Public Library’s first “superintendent of work with children” in 1906.

On Monday, January 13, 2020, the New York Public Library, celebrating its 125th anniversary, released a list of the 10 most-checked-out books in the library鈥檚 history. The list is headed by a children鈥檚 book鈥擡zra Jack Keats鈥� masterpiece The Snowy Day鈥攁nd includes five other kids鈥� books. The list also includes a surprising addendum: One of the most beloved children鈥檚 books of all time didn鈥檛 make the list because for 25 years it was essentially banned from the New York Public Library. Goodnight Moon, by Margaret Wise Brown, would have made the Top 10 list and might have topped it, the library notes, but for the fact that 鈥渋nfluential New York Public library children鈥檚 librarian Anne Carroll Moore disliked the story so much when it was published in 1947 that the library didn鈥檛 carry it 鈥� until 1972.鈥� Who was Anne Carroll Moore, and what was her problem with the great Goodnight Moon?

As it turns out, this footnote on the NYPL鈥檚 anniversary list hints at a rich, surprising story of power, taste, educational philosophy, and the crumbling of traditional gatekeepers. Moore was appointed the NYPL鈥檚 first 鈥渟uperintendent of work with children鈥� in 1906, at a time when the very idea of children even being allowed into libraries was brand-new. (Children who couldn鈥檛 read yet would gain nothing from a library, the theory went, and older children might be corrupted by all the trashy adult books.) Moore oversaw the beautiful Central Children鈥檚 Room in the library鈥檚 flagship building on Fifth Avenue. As Leonard S. Marcus writes in his biography of Margaret Wise Brown, Moore became perhaps the leading figure in popular children鈥檚 books in the first half of the century, and many of her methods seem strikingly modern. She scheduled scores of story hours for children; she encouraged any children who could sign their names to check out a book; she trained librarians drawn from a diverse range of backgrounds and then sent them out into a city of immigrant children, preaching the gospel of reading.

She was also a tastemaker whose NYPL-branded lists of recommended children鈥檚 books could make or break a book鈥檚 fortunes. 鈥淥ther libraries around the country looked to the NYPL, and if she didn鈥檛 buy it, they didn鈥檛 buy it,鈥� explains Betsy Bird, a children鈥檚 book blogger and longtime NYPL librarian who鈥檚 now at the Evanston Public Library in Illinois. 鈥淚f Anne Carroll Moore didn鈥檛 like a book, she could effectively kill it.鈥� Marcus writes that 鈥渆ditors, authors, and illustrators routinely stopped by to visit with Miss Moore and seek her counsel on their works in progress鈥�; she supposedly had a custom-made rubber stamp reading 鈥淣OT RECOMMENDED FOR PURCHASE BY EXPERT,鈥� and she was not afraid to use it.

But Miss Moore鈥檚 taste was particular. She loved Beatrix Potter and The Velveteen Rabbit and was a steadfast believer in the role of magic and innocence in children鈥檚 storytelling. This put her in opposition to a progressive wave then sweeping children鈥檚 literature, inspired by the early childhood research of the Cooperative School for Student Teachers, located on Bank Street in Greenwich Village. The Bank Street School, as it became known, was also a preschool and the teacher training facility where Margaret Wise Brown enrolled in 1935. This progressive wave was exemplified by the Here and Now Story Book, created by Bank Street鈥檚 leading light Lucy Sprague Mitchell in 1921. A collection of simple tales set in a city, focusing on skyscrapers and streetcars, it was a rebuttal to Moore鈥檚 鈥渙nce upon a time鈥� taste in children鈥檚 lit.

Anne Carroll Moore was not a fan of Margaret Wise Brown鈥檚 work. Brown, with her Bank Street training, was 鈥渓ooking at the mind of a child, operating at the level that a child understands,鈥� says Bird. 鈥淪he was trying to get down on their level, whereas Anne Carroll Moore placed herself above the children鈥檚 level, handing what she viewed as the best of the best down to them.鈥�

Margaret Wise Brown

By the time Brown鈥檚 most famous book was published in 1947, Moore had ostensibly retired, though鈥攁s Jill Lepore noted in the New Yorker in a story about Moore鈥檚 war with another children鈥檚 classic, Stuart Little鈥攕he still essentially ran the children鈥檚 section, leading department meetings even when her put-upon acolyte and successor, Frances Clarke Sayers, tried changing the meeting room at the last minute. Margaret Wise Brown wanted librarians to adopt Goodnight Moon; she even blurred out the udder of the cow who jumped over the moon to avoid offending those 鈥淚mportant Ladies.鈥� But it certainly wasn鈥檛 enough for Moore, or Sayers, or the NYPL: Marcus notes that 鈥渋n a harshly worded internal review, the library dismissed the book as an unbearably sentimental piece of work.鈥� And so the book wasn鈥檛 purchased by the New York Public Library, and while children were encouraged to check out all kinds of books from the library鈥檚 extensive children鈥檚 department, Goodnight Moon was not one of them.

As Bird notes in a fascinating blog post, the legacy of Anne Carroll Moore is one that many children鈥檚 librarians struggle with. 鈥淪he is the quintessential bun-in-the-hair shushing librarian,鈥� says Bird. 鈥淪he鈥檚 such an easy villain.鈥� Her discriminating book recommendations delivered from on high represent the exact opposite of the credo pledged by most children鈥檚 librarians today: that the library鈥檚 role is to provide the widest possible array of titles and allow children to find the books they love. Yet Moore did more than anyone else in the first half of the 20th century to encourage children of all races and incomes to read. To adopt a 21st-century rallying cry, Bird notes, Anne Carroll Moore 鈥渨as all about diverse books waaaaaay before anyone else was.鈥�

Perhaps in part because of Moore鈥檚 blacklisting, Goodnight Moon wasn鈥檛 an immediate commercial success; by 1951 sales had dropped low enough that the publisher was considering putting it out of print. So no one was pressuring the NYPL to stock the book, least of all Brown, who died in 1952. (Recovering from surgery for an ovarian cyst in a hospital in France, she playfully kicked her leg up, cancan-style, to show a nurse how well she was feeling; the action dislodged an embolism from a vein in her leg, which traveled to her brain, killing her nearly instantly.) The book regained popularity in the 1950s and 1960s as chains like Waldenbooks and B. Dalton grew; soon, libraries ceded their position as the primary buyers of children鈥檚 books to parents. By 1972, the book鈥檚 25th anniversary, Goodnight Moon was nearing 100,000 copies sold a year. Perhaps it was that anniversary, speculated the NYPL鈥檚 Lynn Lobash, that spurred the library finally to stock the book.

Since 1972, Goodnight Moon has been checked out about 100,000 times from New York City libraries, placing it somewhat below the No. 10 book on the list, The Very Hungry Caterpillar. But, says the NYPL, it鈥檚 rising fast. No doubt at the library鈥檚 150th anniversary, Goodnight Moon will have surpassed some of the more dated titles on the list, like How to Win Friends and Influence People. Sorry, Anne Carroll Moore. Margaret Wise Brown won this round.

This article originally appeared in Slate magazine (Jan. 31, 2020) and is used with permission. 漏2020 The Slate Group LLC.

Margaret Wise Brown Prize Celebrates Fifth Year

Each year, Hollins invites nominations for the prize from children鈥檚 book publishers from across the country and around the world. A three-judge panel consisting of established picture book authors reviews the nominations and chooses a winner.

Hollins established the Margaret Wise Brown Prize in Children鈥檚 Literature as a way to pay tribute to one of its best-known alumnae and one of America鈥檚 most beloved children鈥檚 authors. The cash prizes are made possible by an endowed fund created by James Rockefeller, Brown鈥檚 fianc茅 at the time of her death.

The engraved medal presented to the winners was conceived by award-winning sculptor and painter Betty Branch 鈥�79, M.A.L.S. 鈥�87.

Margaret Wise Brown graduated from Hollins in 1932 and went on to write Goodnight Moon, The Runaway Bunny, and other children鈥檚 classics before she died in 1952.

2020听听听 Wendy Meddour won for Lubna and Pebble, illustrated by Daniel Egn茅us and published by Dial Books.

2019听听听 John Sullivan won for his debut children鈥檚 book, Kitten and the Night Watchman, illustrated by Taeeun Yoo and published by Simon & Schuster.

2018听听听 Elaine Magliaro won for her debut children鈥檚 book, Things to Do, illustrated by Catia Chen and published by Chronicle Books.

2017听听听 Adam Rex won for School鈥檚 First Day of School, illustrated by Christian Robinson and published by Roaring Brook Press.

2016听听听 Phil Bildner, the author of more than 20 children鈥檚 books, won for Marvelous Cornelius, illustrated by John Parra and published by Chronicle Books.

Made possible by the generosity of Jean Hall Rutherfoord 鈥�74, and her husband, Thomas D. Rutherfoord Jr., the center encompasses study abroad at an array of destinations around the world; domestic and international internships and other career preparatory experiences; initiatives that promote innovation and engagement while connecting academic work with practical application; leadership practice; and undergraduate research projects conducted in close partnership with Hollins faculty.

Enveloping these various programs into the Rutherfoord Center 鈥渁llows for greater collaboration and interaction while at the same time expanding opportunities for students,鈥� noted then-Interim President Nancy Oliver Gray upon announcing the center鈥檚 launch. 鈥淭hese programs all work best in coordination to ensure students acquire the experience necessary to thrive in both professional and educational settings after earning their undergraduate degrees.鈥�

The center guarantees every student can pursue each of these programs throughout their four years at Hollins. All the while, they gain mentorship and opportunities to expand their networks; receive expert help in identifying leadership, study abroad, research, and career options; and explore prospects for financial assistance.

鈥淭om and I are so excited to support the path of Hollins students through the array of real-world choices that the Rutherfoord Center will embrace,鈥� Rutherfoord said. 鈥淣otably, Hollins鈥� strong history in study abroad and leadership programs, alumnae-sponsored internships, and research projects with faculty can be offered and centralized in a way to provide all Hollins students more comprehensive access.鈥�

Like many modern university centers, the Rutherfoord Center is not a physical structure but a comprehensive program, so various aspects of the center鈥檚 work will continue to be housed in different locations throughout campus, and the opportunities for expansion and growth are bountiful. A director for the center is expected to be named in the coming year.

鈥淓xperiential learning transforms personal and social development,鈥� Gray said. 鈥淚t enhances resiliency, tenacity, curiosity, and self-reflection. It鈥檚 an immersive process by which students gain knowledge and skills by observing, inferring, and most of all, doing.鈥�

You can find out more about the Rutherfoord Center for Experiential Learning at 糖心传媒.edu/rutherfoord.