The pandemic became real right before spring break, when we were told that it would be our last week of in-person classes and that we would go virtual for the rest of the semester. There was so much confusion, disappointment, outrage, and denial, plus a barrage of questions: What does "virtual" mean? Can you even teach the case method virtually? Wait, we can’t hang out in large groups? What are we going to do about section events?

It dawned on me when I took some time to sit in the empty classroom of Aldrich 107. There was just silence. No bubbling energy before the start of class, no chit-chat to catch up on the weekend’s gossip, no plans for the next travel destination. Everything that marked the daily hustle and bustle of the MBA experience was gone.

The next couple of weeks were a blur as we transitioned into Zoom-land. It was weird to see 90-plus sectionmates reduced to a sea of bobbing heads on a screen. There were endless issues and everyone struggled: laptop batteries dying midway through classes, family members and pets unknowingly walking in and out of our Zoom frames, classmates forgetting to unmute before making a comment or worse, forgetting to mute yourself while ordering pizza during class.

But if there was one thing we were good at it was adapting and adapt we did. We quickly learned to strategically position our cameras so we could multitask during online classes. We got away with using our mobile phones, folding our laundry, reading our cases for the next classes, or preparing a meal while still tuning into Zoom classes.

We also mastered the art of looking engaged on screen even when we were not. Most importantly, we learned to punt when caught off-guard with a cold call. We bought time by saying, “I’m sorry, professor. My Internet isn’t great today. Could you please repeat the question?”

The advantage of Zoom was being able to turn up for classes in our attire of choice, whether it was pj's or gym clothes. We even had the option to go pantless. After all, nobody needed to know what we wore below the camera.

Outside the classroom, we had to find new ways to socialize. Gone were the days when we could gather as a section. All the things we said we’d do when we got to HBS were upended—everything from celebrating the last day of RC classes with the section to traveling for different treks to attending the Newport Ball and Commencement. We grieved the fact that we were not going to have the same illustrious traditions that generations of HBS students had.

For introverts like myself, however, the pandemic was not entirely a bad thing. There was no obligation to turn up for events and there were also fewer events to turn up to. Some days, it felt like I was given the gift of time to work on the things I love, such as reading and drawing. But we felt the loss of the typical MBA experience.

As for recruitment, it was a challenge. Opportunities narrowed as companies cut down on recruitment. There were the lucky ones who got their job of choice, but there were many others who struggled to find one, had opportunities rescinded, or just settled for one. This period of time taught us to be resilient and to lean on each other when times are tough.

As the MBA drew to a close, we came together as a section for the final time in April during Bridges. I cannot express the feeling of seeing many of the familiar faces that have come to make my HBS experience worthwhile.

It reminded me that despite the terrors that came with the pandemic, there were gifts that came with it, too. It’s this feeling that there are people—an abundance of people—who are in this together, who are on our team, and who would continue to show up, pandemic or not. I am grateful and thankful for this community at HBS, and I’m also afraid of losing that feeling when I leave this place.