Last month I drafted an email to the director of the women's retreat team. Our parish had planned a women's retreat for September, and I had agreed enthusiastically to be a part of the team back in the early days of lockdown, when it seemed like we could muster the collective resolve to smack COVID down and keep it smacked down or at least smacked down-ish.
I felt like an alarmist sending the email, which said in essence that it seemed unwise to schedule an event a month after the students returned. But holy MACKEREL, my alarmist email wildly underestimated the impact of bringing this many 18- to 22-year-olds back to our small city. HOLY MACKEREL. Our case counts have exploded. Today was yet another record for one-day growth in new cases, and more than 90% of those newly infected were 18-29 years old. Which is good in one sense, because most of them will be fine. But it is not great in another sense, because I am skeptical that the people who couldn't stay away from parties will be able to keep themselves adequately quarantined.
I can tell that students are trying. We are hardly hearing any parties here in our student-dense neighborhood. But the evidence is clear: full compliance is not realistic. Partial compliance is not sufficient.
The retreat is on hold indefinitely. We are waiting uneasily to see what happens here in Petri Dish-ville.
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