College Seemingly Abandons COVID Mitigation Efforts

Oliver Niehaus

I started school at Oberlin last fall when there were signs all over campus that said, “masks required outdoors.” I was initially surprised because this was above and beyond CDC guidance at that time — in general, outdoor mask wearing was not necessary. Now, I’ll admit I was a bit annoyed by such a policy. Carrying heavy boxes from my car and up the stairs while wearing a KN95 mask was not the most enjoyable experience, but at least it was an indication to me that the college I was attending truly cared about the health and safety of its students. I do believe at times those policies were over the top, whether that be making all dining locations grab and go or the outdoor mask mandate, but I knew I’d rather be at an institution that went above and beyond recommended measures than one that was being cavalier.

However, as time went on, Oberlin’s image as an institution devoted to the health and safety of its students quickly disappeared. For one, as the Review reported Aug. 13, 2021, the school would no longer recommend vaccinated individuals to get tested if exposed, so long as they were not displaying symptoms. For an institution that claimed to be going “above and beyond” CDC recommendations, this was a clear departure, as the CDC was clear that vaccinated individuals can absolutely contract COVID-19 and be asymptomatic carriers, and should thus be tested when exposed. The College’s masking policy also faltered during a brief period when masks were not required in any athletic buildings. I can understand the option of removing masks while actively working out or practicing a sport, but why the whole building? Walking down the hall in the Athletic Center is no different from walking down the hall in King Building. Again, there didn’t seem to be any rational reason why the policy should be different, and it appeared more as a double standard designed to privilege athletes, despite there being frequent COVID outbreaks within sports teams.

The start of this academic year was no better. Despite making the correct decision in requiring masks for the beginning of the semester, the current quarantine and isolation policies are an abysmal failure and a complete slap in the face to anyone actively trying to avoid COVID. The ObieSafe email sent out Aug. 18, which outlined COVID policies for this semester, stated that The Hotel at Oberlin would no longer be used for isolation and that, “If only one roommate tests positive, healthy roommates should wear a mask and maintain social distance as much as possible.” The email does say, “Students (such as those who are immune-compromised) who have a relevant accommodation through the Office of Disability and Access whose roommate tests positive will be considered for temporary housing, if it is available.” No one should have to prove to the College that they are sufficiently immunocompromised in order to avoid exposure to a deadly virus, but if the College can avoid paying for a few overpriced hotel rooms, who cares if a few people get COVID from their roommates?

In more positive news, a new COVID booster was just made available to the general public. According to the CDC, Moderna and Pfizer’s new “bivalent” boosters replace the older “monovalent” booster that targeted only the original strain of coronavirus that arrived in the U.S. in 2020. The bivalent boosters are designed to offer protection against both that original strain and the latest circulating Omicron variants.

Where is Oberlin when it comes to promoting these new boosters? The college that supposedly “goes above and beyond CDC guidance” has not provided students with any information on where to get the booster or even annual flu shots, which were mandated last year. It’s concerning that the school I once viewed as the pinnacle of student safety in terms of COVID protocols hasn’t said a word about the new boosters.

Going into the fall, it’s likely that we will see another resurgence of COVID, and getting a booster can help protect you and those around you from getting sick. Even if COVID won’t severely impact someone’s health, missing class and other activities will put people at an academic disadvantage. Getting updated vaccines is, and always has been, about protecting not just yourself but also those around you. Therefore, I strongly urge you to get the latest booster. You can schedule an appointment online to get yours at the CVS nearby when available. The College may be done promoting ways to mitigate the spread of COVID, but that doesn’t mean we as a community shouldn’t be taking basic precautions.

To schedule your COVID-19 bivalent booster, visit tinyurl.com/bdhxz84a.

Students Should Give Mobile ID Cards Time

Henry Larson Columnist

When I got my Mobile ObieID on my first day at Oberlin, I was thrilled with the convenience of the new technology. The ability to get into my dorm, order meals, and check out books just by tapping my phone against a card reader sounded incredibly convenient. No keeping track of a thin little piece of plastic, and no fishing that plastic card out of the abysmal depths of my back right pocket (or was it my back left pocket?) whenever I need to buy some food or pick up my mail. Cut to me now, three weeks later, racing through the night and praying that my phone will cling to its one percent charge for just a little bit longer so that I won’t be locked out of my dorm. These digitized ID cards are no longer the immaculate innovation my starry eyes had originally gazed upon.

Despite the moment of terror I experienced at the hands of Oberlin’s new mobile IDs, I firmly believe that their central flaw is not a deep-rooted one. In and of themselves, mobile IDs are not a bad idea. Most people with a smartphone carry it around with them at all times. Combined with the fact that so many young adults already keep important cards on digital wallets, it seems natural for mobile school IDs to be the next step. Moreover, it’s easier to keep track of a phone because of its physical size and weight, and because of the various apps that exist to help smartphone users locate their device (like Apple’s Find My iPhone or Samsung’s Find My Mobile services). Students with a Mobile ObieID can also check the Transact app to immediately see how many meal swipes, Flex Points, and Obie Dollars they have left. Finally, the same environmental factors that have played into an increase in digitized syllabi and class resources are relevant with ID cards. Although the quantity of plastic used in the manufacturing of ID cards is not enormous, it isn’t negligible.

With that being said, there are a host of valid reasons why many are still concerned about the potential ubiquity of electronic IDs. If these are to be accepted campuswide, one major fault is their discriminatory nature. Obviously, having a mobile ID requires having a smartphone. While the vast majority of Americans do have smartphones — especially young Americans — not everyone has one. If you do have a smartphone, the convenience of using your mobile ID depends on which type of phone you have. At this point, the Mobile ObieID technology seems to strongly favor iPhones — and specific models of iPhones at that — which is a particularly big problem when it comes to using the ID after one’s phone has died. According to the Center for Information Technology, only students with an iPhone XS, XS Max, or XR have the capacity to continue to use their phone as an ID after it has lost all of its charge, meaning that Android users or iPhone users who don’t have these particular models are out of luck. Some people may also not have the storage space to get the app they need for the mobile IDs to work, and because smartphones are made slightly differently depending on the country, some international students may have trouble downloading the right version of the app. Of course, there’s also apprehension abour the potential for glitches that accompanies any new technology. The difficulty in this case is that any sort of malfunction would mean not being able to get back into one’s room or eat dinner.

These are some glaring issues, but as mentioned previously, this doesn’t necessarily mean that as a whole, digital IDs are a bad idea. The main problem has been their implementation. At the beginning of this semester, Oberlin students had to give up their physical IDs or forgo the new Mobile ObieID, which is why so many have been against switching to this new technology. Oberlin is forcing people to put all their eggs in one basket, which is worrying given that there are so many things that could go wrong that no one can predict at this time. The students who have chosen to use mobile IDs are essentially guinea pigs, and there are real risks being taken with that decision because of how necessary it is to have a working ID on this campus. In these early stages, Oberlin and the ID Card Office should be less focused on phasing out the physical cards and more focused on ensuring that the digital cards can successfully replace them. If they really want digital IDs to be part of Oberlin’s future, they should be focused on building trust in the software rather than forcing students to choose between the old and the new.

Ultimately, I would suggest allowing physical and mobile IDs to coexist, at least briefly. I understand that there could be security concerns if each student has two IDs, but it would allow the new technology to be tested and improved with fewer risks on the part of students, and it would make people that much less anxious about using the digital IDs. It’s not a perfect solution, but perfect solutions rarely exist, and for now, the College should at least somewhat adjust its current strategy.

Voices of Massacre Comments on Political Killings in Iran

Continued from page 5 and exposed the crimes.

Several exiled Iranian writers, artists, and political analysts have published articles and produced documentaries about these atrocities. Ervand Abrahamian’s Tortured Confessions: Prisons and Public Recantations in Modern Iran and Geoffrey Robertson’s The Massacre of Political Prisoners in Iran, 1988, published by Abdorrahman Boroumand Foundation in 2011, provided witness testimonies and official statements disclosing the crimes.

Some members of the death commission, including current Iranian President Ebrahim Raisi, are still in positions of authority in Iran. Yet, mass media in the United States has hardly covered this unprecedented massacre.

In Voices of a Massacre: Untold Stories of Life and Death in Iran, 1988, author and scholar of modern Iranian history Nasser Mohajer gives a unique and creative portrayal of this tragic reality.

This new book provides a highly credible series of reflections, testimonies, eyewitness descriptions, and memories of the victims’ loved ones and friends during the massacre. It reveals how the death commission executed Khomeini’s sociopathic fatwa in such detail that the Iranian regime’s denial of its crimes becomes a nihilistic absurdity. It provides eyewitness accounts by inmates of what happened to prison victims and how executions were carried out in different cities.

The suffering of Iran’s prisoners in general, and those of the great massacre in particular, is most vividly illustrated by the activities and memoirs of the victims’ families and friends, for they played a central role in drawing international attention to the plight of political prisoners in Iran. “The vanguard of this resistance and struggle was made up of women: the mothers, wives, daughters, and sisters of those who braved tyranny, aspiring for a better future for their country,” Mohajer wrote. These activists made a significant contribution to the rise of the women’s movement in Iran, unprecedented in the Islamic world’s history.

The purpose of Voices of a Massacre, as Mohajer explains, is more than to expose the lies of Iran’s clerical rulers. Instead, it “seeks to embody what Primo Levi defines as the ‘Duty of Memory.’” That is to say, we need “to gain insight into the historical reality and portray the subtle details of the ‘policy of cruelty’ in the Islamic Republic of Iran,” the author wrote. Lynn Novick, co-director with Ken Burns on the documentary The Vietnam War, bemoans the obvious lack of transparency. “It is a shortcoming and self-humiliating to say that they have lied constantly; there is no doubt that they have lied,” Novick said. “But what we really want to do is to show what has happened.”

Voices of a Massacre reveals the cruel nature of a theocracy that rejects the idea of human rights politically, socially, and in the private sphere of life. Mohammad Jafar Mahallati, whom we call upon to condemn these crimes against humanity, currently teaches Muslim Oral Culture: Persian Poetry in Translation, Music and Calligraphy at Oberlin College.

Zoey Birdsong Columnist

I’ve noticed that the narrative around the Oberlin Student Cooperative Association is often dominated by its most veteran, involved, and enthusiastic members. I’m well on my way to becoming one of those people, but I think it’s important that I share my perspective as someone who was an outsider not long ago. After many people assured me that physical disability wouldn’t be a barrier to my contributing to the co-op, I decided to join the OSCA lottery this year. I figured I could always bow out and get a meal plan if the co-ops didn’t work for me.

I thought I was going to regret joining Harkness. I was worried that two meals a day wouldn’t be enough, I would miss the flexibility of campus dining, and I wouldn’t be able to adjust to a vegetarian diet after 20 years of eating meat for nearly every meal. While I concede that these concerns may have been relatively trivial and privileged, I had more significant ones as well. Harkness is famous for its culture — I once heard someone say that Harkness people are to Oberlin students as Oberlin students are to the rest of the world — and I thought I might not be able to fit in or keep up. Most importantly, though, I was worried a lot about not being able to equally contribute to my co-op due to physical disability. Instead of cooking and cleaning, I serve as one of Harkness’ Accessibility Coordinators, a job that allows me to contribute equitably to the co-op and help make OSCA a place where everyone can reap the benefits of the work they put in.

In spite of the nerves, I was excited. I had always heard great things about OSCA, and my friends in co-ops always seemed to value the communities they were a part of. Whenever I ate in a co-op last year, I was struck by how welcoming and friendly the environment was. It called attention to the corporate coldness of campus dining. Co-ops don’t require students to swipe in or limit themselves to one side dish — or two sides after 4:30 p.m. I love almost everything about

Members of Harkness co-op share a meal outdoors.

being in a co-op: the people, the discussions, the food I thought I’d hate, the jellyfish parades (don’t ask), and the high-pressure sink that gets all the food residue off my dish in a few seconds. Now, I get to eat a good meal with people I care about twice a day.

A couple weeks into the semester, Harkness’ industrial dishwasher broke, which meant that we had to stop serving meals and were given meal swipes instead. Having to return to campus dining made me realize how much I’d grown used to the co-op and how inaccurate my apprehensions were. I noticed a drop in the quality of food I was eating, as well as the absence of the social atmosphere I’d come to associate with mealtimes. However, it’s important to acknowledge that for students who rely on OSCA for financial or dietary reasons, this Hark-less period was more of an issue for them than it was for me.

Being in a co-op helps me practice skills that I’ll use for the rest of my life, such as taking initiative and consideration of the people around me. OSCA emphasizes mutual responsibility. The co-op’s failure or success depends on everyone showing up and taking part; there will only be food if we cook it, and the kitchen will only be clean if we clean it. It’s like relearning the lessons in cooperation that most of us learned in childhood, but with higher stakes (and no steak). If a ball gets dropped, that means negative consequences for everyone. This is true for life in general, but living in a co-op really trains you to adjust your mindset.

The co-op model also makes me think about what a better world might look like. I’m so used to structures and organizations that don’t

Photo by Erin Koo, Photo Editor work for their members, so it’s refreshing to be a part of one that does. In OSCA, members receive direct return on their contributions, as opposed to corporations, where the people in charge often get most of the profit at the expense of laborers and consumers. OSCA gives co-opers the opportunity to decide what’s best for ourselves, rather than having that decided for us. Through consensus, a method of community listening and decision making, we all have the power to shape co-op policy and impact the well-being of our peers. In my experience so far, this system has been effective in ensuring that the co-op remains functional and that everyone’s needs are being met. It makes me wish that more people had chances like this to directly shape the organizations that provide for them.

Administrator-Student Communication Needs Improvement

Aurora Hegarty

As it stands, there is no clear, easily accessible avenue through which students can relay their grievances to the administration in a manner that encourages constructive change. Conversely, it seems like the administration often doesn’t communicate its decisions to students in a timely or entirely transparent manner. Students and the administration apparently suffer from a fundamental inability to communicate with each other. The fact that I have, on multiple occasions, heard about important changes to this institution through YikYak rather than through official channels should be an embarrassment.

Students have a right to know what large-scale changes the College is making, or planning on making, before they are made. Otherwise, it is impossible for us to feel like we have a voice or that we are heard. Shutting students out of major decisions isolates them and, as a result, makes the decision more contentious. I imagine that people who might otherwise like a decision may be less pleased when said decision is sprung on them by surprise — particularly when there is no explanation for why the change was made. From a student’s perspective, it feels like President Carmen Twillie Ambar sits in an ivory tower, occasionally making decisions that affect every single Oberlin student without so much as a word from her on the matter.

The change to Bon Secours Mercy Health is a prime example of this problem. Students who could have raised concerns about the change in health care provider before the fact were instead informed through a Campus Digest email on June 8. In a move that many students felt was predictable in hindsight, Bon Secours walked back numerous reproductive and gender-affirming health care procedures it had apparently assured the College it would provide. If students had known about this change sooner, they might have been able to raise concerns in time; if they had been educated on why it was happening, they might have been able to understand why the College’s previous contract was unsatisfactory and what the new contract improved. In this case, knowing ahead of time would not, in my mind, have made the change itself any better. Still, at least students would have been able to comprehend the administration’s thinking.

I’m not saying there are no avenues of direct communication between students and administrators. If you, dear reader, know of one: congratulations! You know more than the average Obie. And that right there is the problem: even if avenues of communication do currently exist, there is a lack of awareness of them that, in the end, negates their existence. The College should rethink how it communicates with students currently, as it is clearly failing to do so.

The solution I would like to suggest is simple: the College should host town-hall-type events. These events would be great opportunities to create student awareness of big issues and changes, and for administrators to receive students’ feedback. Doing this would not only give students like me a voice, but it would also allow the College to actually know how their new programs will be received. It might lead to programs that are satisfactory to both parties that can be implemented without confusion. Even if the College did not solicit questions from students or hold conversations with them, such town hall events would present opportunities for administrators to explain their choices and why they are important, positive changes for our community.

I would also argue that this problem can and does go both ways: the administration may not know what its students are thinking if they are too isolated to hear our general chatter. Town hall events would be a great opportunity for them to hear from us, too. At the end of the day, though, I just want to know what Oberlin is planning on doing on a large scale. I deserve to know — it’s my life.