Light at the end: While a virtual Lighting of the Lawn was the safest option this academic year, we still missed being there when UVA turned the Rotunda’s holiday lights on in December. Brighter Together offers another chance to see the historic landmark dancing with color, as one of five pop-up art events tying together themes of spring and renewal, alluding to the brighter future ahead after a tough year. Students and community members are encouraged to stop by to enjoy Jeff Dobrow‘s stunning light projections, along with student-created videos, art, and music. Attendees are encouraged to wear masks, gather in groups of 10 people or fewer, and remain at least six feet apart while on the Lawn.
“Remember when I said I doubted the university would move classes online because it would be a logistical nightmare? Well, I was only half right. UVA will and has moved classes online. And it’s a logistical nightmare.”
This quote, from an email sent by one of my professors, nicely sums up the sentiment of UVA faculty and students. I’ve heard and read a lot of grumbling about the university-mandated switch to Zoom, and I’ve done a fair bit of it myself. We fourth-years are especially bummed, since it’s more than just a “logistical nightmare” for us. It looks like the rest of our time at UVA isn’t going to be at UVA at all.
The latest update from President Jim Ryan, letting us know that final exercises as we know them are officially canceled, was a particularly upsetting blow. Graduation ceremonies were the one school-related part of being a fourth-year I really didn’t want to miss. We’ve been told that UVA is “developing creative alternatives,” but I’m skeptical. I shudder to think of the Zoom call that would accommodate a crowd of 4,000.
Charlottesville is not unique here, of course. This is a trend happening at universities across the country and the world, and it’s a necessary one. We can whine all we want about how much the rest of this semester is going to suck (and admittedly, it’ll probably suck), but these are prudent precautions.
What I’ve been trying to do these past few days is keep in mind how relatively fortunate I am. I’m still in Charlottesville (sorry, President Ryan) because of my job as delivery boy at New Dominion Bookshop. My parents live outside Richmond, an easy drive in case I need to return home. I’m an English major in the creative writing program whose thesis is being written in isolation anyways—my degree doesn’t depend on student teaching or hands-on lab work.
I’ve heard stories of other students faring worse—like my friend Aline Dolinh, a fellow fourth-year who recently returned from Germany. Her trip should’ve ended days earlier, but thanks to what she calls a “comedy of errors,” involving a stolen backpack that contained her laptop and passport, she was stranded. Things were looking grim as Germany continued to close its borders and restrict travel, but she (incredibly) got at least her passport returned to her and made it back to the States earlier this week, where she’s now hanging out in her parents’ basement “like a medieval plague victim.”
Aside from such ill-fated trips abroad, what about the students whose actual homes are overseas? According to recent data, UVA has nearly 2,500 nonresident alien students enrolled in undergraduate and graduate programs. What percentage of these students is trying but unable to return home? How long might they be stuck here? Questions like these make me remember how lucky I am to be an in-state student with a car, and my right to complain shrinks that much more.
Of course, there’s the social side of this to consider too. We’ll find creative ways to graduate, but what about creative ways to remain in touch? When I chatted with Aline the other day, she agreed that “it’s the small things that are hitting the most. I won’t be able to do x or y with my friends, and I don’t know the next time I’ll get to see some of these people.”
Charlottesville—particularly the university side of Charlottesville—is starting to feel like a ghost town. Two of my three roommates are still here, but from what I’ve seen, this is pretty unusual. My Instagram and Facebook feeds are stuffed with fourth-years posting bittersweet photos of the Lawn with captions commemorating their “3.75 years” and giving an emotional goodbye to Charlottesville.
As far as I know, the majority of my fourth- year friends have already packed up and headed back to their family homes. This includes Veronica Sirotic, who was the first friend I made at UVA—though I’m sure I wasn’t hers. Veronica is one of the most social people I’ve ever met. It seems like she can make friends with someone as effortlessly as shaking their hand—two activities which I guess are prohibited for the time being.
When I FaceTimed Veronica to check in, she answered the call wearing her cap and gown—graduation photos, she explained. She had a mini ceremony with her roommates (from a socially safe distance, of course), after which she drove to her parents’ place in Arlington.
She was understandably upset about the situation, but was also trying to keep a fair perspective. “I’m not dead, and my family is safe,” she said. “I have a lot to be grateful for.”
We both acknowledged that while being a fourth-year sucked right now, “it could suck so much more.” I referenced a post I had seen her share on Facebook from Take Back the Night, UVA’s sexual assault prevention group that she co-chairs. The post said that “people currently experiencing sexual harm or survivors of that harm may be particularly affected” by the pandemic—for a variety of reasons, including lack of access to in-person counseling and an exacerbated sense of isolation. The post was a wake-up call, another reality of this that I hadn’t even considered.
Talking with Veronica was a bit of a wake-up call, too, and it helped put things further into perspective. Sure, what’s ahead is concerning, and not just in the context of public health. This is a less-than-ideal time to be entering the job market—I have no idea what the economy will look like when I graduate in two months.
I’ve been trying not to worry about hypotheticals like that, though, and take things day-by-day. It’s easy to feel helpless in a situation like this, but we still have some agency. Veronica’s photo shoot inspired me—come May 16, if President Ryan’s “creative alternatives” don’t pan out, I might have a personal graduation ceremony in the safety of my apartment. I can wear the honors of Honors in my bedroom and hand off a diploma to myself. I won’t have a Lawn to march across and my ceilings are a little low for cap-throwing, but it’s better than nothing.
Charlottesville Clerk of Court Llezelle Dugger swears in RaShall Brackney.
Staff photo
New chief takes oath
As the city’s first-ever female police chief RaShall Brackney was sworn in June 18, she said we should all be saddened “in 2018, that my gender is a topic of conversation.”
The former George Washington University chief and Pittsburgh police commander of 35 years said on her first official day on the job, her priority is to meet with leaders of every shift at the Charlottesville Police Department. And then the obvious one: Come up with a plan for how to handle this summer’s anniversary of last August’s deadly Unite the Right rally.
Brackney only has two months to do so, and said she’s “up for the task.”
Hiring Brackney was one of Mayor Nikuyah Walker’s first major decisions.
“I’m really excited about today,” Walker said, because she believes Brackney will “bridge the divide that we currently have in our city between black citizens in low-income communities and law enforcement.”
As a female, multi-ethnic police officer who grew up as one of six children, sharing one bathroom with a family of eight, Brackney said she understands “feeling disenfranchised,” and later echoed, “I understand what it feels like to not be included.”
One of her top priorities since she’s been in law enforcement is reducing violence in African American communities, and Brackney said she’s “never disconnected from the communities from which [she’s] from.”
When asked what uniqueness she brings to Charlottesville, the new chief quipped, “besides being a Steelers fan?”
“You made several points, right, and one of the ones in which I feel is absolutely repulsive is the fact that you believe that an event like August 12, which was indeed very sad, traumatizing to our community, you say that it’s the worst thing to ever happen here in Charlottesville.”—City Councilor Wes Bellamy at the June 18 meeting, telling Pat Napoleon, who has called for councilors to resign, that he thinks slavery and lynching were worse.
Unwilling patient
“Jane Doe” is suing UVA Health System’s CEO and several medical practitioners for allegedly taking blood and urine samples and giving her medication against her will after a suicide attempt. She’s represented by local attorney Jeff Fogel, who is also alleging gross negligence, false imprisonment and assault and battery in his federal lawsuit.
The water’s not fine
Albemarle County officials and the local health department are encouraging Chris Greene Lake goers to “avoid water contact” at the beach, boat ramp and dog park, because of a toxic blue-green algae bloom that was caused by recent weather. People and pets will be prohibited from swimming there until further notice. High levels of algae closed the lake last summer, too.
University access
UVA students and visitors with limited mobility cannot currently traverse the entire Lawn. To make that possible, construction will begin on two brick wheelchair ramps this summer, though the project has been met with opposition from groups such as the Jeffersonian Grounds Initiative, which, according to the Daily Progress, said “ramps will protrude into the Lawn and do violence to [its] integrity.”
Boots’ 100th birthday
photo mo lowdon
Beloved UVA prof Ernest “Boots” Mead died four years ago. But that didn’t stop his former students, who have also established the Mead Endowment, from toasting his 100th birthday June 13 with celebrations across the country in D.C., New York, Richmond, San Francisco, Charlottesville—and Lander, Wyoming. Way to make an impression.
Missing millions
The Albemarle County School Board will no longer ask the Board of Supervisors for a November bond referendum, and has reduced its funding request from next year’s capital budget from over $50 million to $5.4 million. The money will go toward a 600-student learning center, a classroom addition and new gym for Scottsville Elementary School and renovations at a couple high schools—though completion costs for all three projects will be $81 million.
He said, she said
After the controversial conviction of Corey Long for pointing a homemade flamethrower at white supremacists on August 12, a tweet from activist group Solidarity Cville—which supported Long during his trial and demanded that the prosecutor drop the disorderly conduct charge—said Long had lost his job, and encouraged followers to send him a few bucks via PayPal.
“Community defender Corey Long was fired from his job because ‘they wouldn’t be able to hold his position for the duration of his incarceration,’” the June 13 tweet said. Against the prosecutor’s advice, a judge sentenced Long to 360 days in jail on June 8, with all but 20 days suspended. With good behavior, he’ll likely only serve 10 days, and they could be served on weekends.
Corey Long after his conviction for disorderly conduct June 8. Eze Amos
Solidarity Cville also tweeted a message from Long, who allegedly said, “It’s their loss, I was a good employee. But thanks for everything. Every bit helps!”
An anonymous caller told C-VILLE that Long worked at a Taco Bell in Gordonsville, stopped showing up a couple weeks before his conviction and was never fired.
According to corporate Taco Bell spokesperson Jacqueline Cisneros, the Gordonsville franchise said “team member” Long is still employed, and that it has reached out to him several times without any response. It is unclear whether Long was recently employed elsewhere.
Long did not respond to an interview request, but shared a Facebook post from Darnell Lamont Walker on June 15, which said, “Corey Long was just fired from his job,” and linked to Long’s PayPal account.
