Emilee McCubbins

The Wooster plague spares no one. This time around, however, it’s a little more frightening than the normal start-of-semester common cold — the flu has struck Wooster. Each campus-wide email and newly placed hand sanitizer station serves as a reminder to take care of yourself, try to keep healthy and please, please stay in your room if you’re sick.

That’s not a realistic option, though. Syllabus week is not too far in the past; strict attendance policies and requirements linger over each reminder that quarantin- ing yourself is a civic responsibility. No one wants to be sick, and no one wants to get their peers sick — but when the choice is using up precious few absences this early in the semester, one is forced to make the decision between suffering academic losses or potentially infecting their classmates.

The choice between one’s health and one’s academics is not new with this flu. With such small class sizes and an emphasis on seminar-style instruction, missing students are easily noticeable. Because of this, attendance policies flourish in classrooms.I’ve had two classes in my four years here that did not have attendance policies of some kind. Most frequently, I find myself allowed to miss two or three classes, depending where it falls during the week. This feels reasonable enough, given that it equates to a week of in-class instruction — but with policies left up to a professor’s discretion, rules easily become more stringent. I’ve had professors who allow three absences, but only with valid excuses with documentation. Others don’t cite a number but require you reach out to your professor 24 hours in advance. Last semester, I found myself in a class that met five days a week, and even one absence required an email sent from the Wellness Center —my word didn’t count.Regardless of specifics, attendance policies tend to have one theme in common: academic penalties.

As we wind down from the flu scare of spring semester, I’m reflecting on all the in-class quips about staying home if you’re sick. Classmates glaring at anyone who dare sneeze or cough in their presence, professors jokingly angry at the prospect of getting sick, staff and administrators reminding us of the importance of self-care and not allowing the flu to further take over Wooster. At the same time, I wonder how many are truly understanding of those same students who find themselves battling chronic illnesses or disabilities or mental health issues who find that they have to miss class more than the average student.

Incentivizing attendance, regardless of the consequences, results in student burnout and further spread of illnesses. Students with the means to be proactive — to get flu shots, to afford over-the-counter remedies, to seek legitimate medical advice outside of salt for gargle — find themselves with yet another upper hand over stu- dents already struggling to stay afloat. I have chronic migraines. Sometimes, going to class is simply not an option. When my choices are losing a letter grade or sneaking out to the bathroom to vomit when it becomes too much, I’m going to choose salvaging the grade. We cannot simultaneously expect students to stay home if they’re sick and require attendance with threat to our GPAs. I understand the fear that students will skip just for fun, but we’re adults at the end of the day — our decisions affect ourselves. Sitting in my four-person English class over the last week has certainly been a strange dynamic, but I’d rather those missing get the rest they need than put me at risk of the flu for fear of the effect on their grade. I would hope the same respect be extended to less dire situations than the one we’ve found ourselves in.