Echoes of 71 Days before the Opportunities of the Next 1,461

Abstract

Nature has a way of amplifying human emotion in times of joy, sadness, and crises. On November 9, 2016, the sky over Arcata, California, was a dull gray with dark, foreboding lines that usually precede the onset of a storm, and a mournful silence permeated both town and campus. Walking across Humboldt State University’s campus that day was a disquieting experience. With a student body of roughly 8,000, and a faculty of over 500, it was reminiscent of a scene from the Twilight Zone where the main character wakes up to discover that she is the only individual in the entire town. Walkways were vacant during the transition periods between classes. On the few faces that were making their way between buildings, there was a sullenness that was evocative of the faces of former colleagues on the morning of September 11, 2001. Stillness encompassed the people and buildings; a state of eeriness had taken hold of the campus. By chance, a mentor and colleague was making his way to class; a deep forbiddance was evident on his face. All he could muster to say in response to the results of the election the night before was, “It’s like a family member has died.” Fate had dealt a malicious hand to the campus, as it was also the day for the fall semester “unConference,” themed “Get Uncomfortable at the unConference.” An event that, under usual circumstances, would have been attended by students, faculty, and staff listening to their peers give five-minute lightning talks on activities, experiences, and research, was transformed into a somber gathering of presenters and organizers. Presenters tried to rise to the moment and turn the sparse audience’s thoughts away from contemplating