Intern Experience More Than Expected at the CDC

In the lead up to my first day working at the Center of Disease Control and Prevention, everyone told me that it would be a rather boring time. I came into the office the first week of January green-eyed and ready to go to work. I was put into a cubicle and eagerly set up shop. My office had morning meetings every Monday, Wednesday and Friday. In the first morning meeting I attended, my supervisor informed us of an unknown illness that infected a handful of individuals who attended a fish market in Wuhan, China. At the time we thought it was environmentally transmitted, but we had absolutely no clue. I was still waiting on clearance to receive my government issued computer and email address, so in the meantime was tasked with looking into any factors which might be indicative of the population affected.

Despite early speculation that this was an isolated event that would be contained quickly, the virus seemed eerily present. I was initially selected to work in my office because I have a background in scientific writing and expressed that I wanted to assist the CDC in having a culture of storytelling that would make their writing and publications more accessible to a wider audience. Healthcare access has been one of my primary concerns globally and, as the nation's leader in healthcare security, I felt that it was essential that communication from the CDC be clear, concise and accessible to a wide audience. I quickly became involved in a few projects that aligned with my interests in helping this mission. Early in my internship, I spoke with a colleague about the virus, and they reassured me that even though this seems big, small scares like this one happen often. By this point, there were only about 100 individuals confirmed with the virus in China, and it seemed to be regionally contained.

Needless to say, with the dramatic escalation in the number of cases and the virus's increasingly global presence, day-to-day life got far busier in the office. My colleague who had been assisting in my projects had to move to the Emergency Operations Center located at a different office, and I did not see them again for the rest of my internship. A few days before they were relocated to assist with communications and staffing for our response effort to COVID-19, I gingerly asked them, "You still sure this happens all the time?" They gave me a look and said, "No, this is actual insanity."

The declaration of quarantine policy at this scale has been the first time something of this nature has occurred in the past 50 years. Quarantine is one of the first public health interventions enacted in mankind, although in its earliest stages it was a much more brutal practice where the diseased were practically left to survive on their own devices while isolated on ships away from the rest of the population.

Seeing our public health infrastructure at work on a virus which started as just a few cases evolve into a global pandemic in the course of my 10-week internship was truly astonishing. The communication channels responsible for the distribution of information persisted at a constant roar throughout the day. I have never experienced being so fully engulfed in a real-world event in my life. Every morning for 10 weeks I woke up, rode the wildly inconsistent bus to our office and sat at my cubicle dealing with work that pertained to COVID-19. This was also one of the literally rainiest periods of time that I have experienced. It seemed to rain at least three days a week all winter. The pattern of flooding sidewalks, inconsistent buses and constant emersion in COVID-19 was a surreal experience, and what I suppose many of my elders would call "real adulting."

I was very blessed to be in a position where I had an internship at a government agency, a roof over my head and consistent transportation — no matter how untimely. What intrigued me about this time period was how for supposedly one of the most developed nations in the world, common sense tends to fly out the door. I often returned home to news anchors and individuals in the media saying "the mortality rate is ONLY 3%," and robotically talking about all of the statistics surrounding the virus. That "ONLY 3%" figure stung me hard every time it was mentioned. That number represents lives of individuals who will not be able to eat dinner with their family that night. Please take a minute to think about the individuals who are most severely affected by interactions and events like this. In this nation, the supposedly most-developed nation on earth, this pandemic has shown how truly socially insecure socioeconomically disadvantaged populations are.

Events like this one are often viewed in terms of long-term time horizon and impact. People like to say that in the grand scheme of things, this issue won't matter for the United States and its economy. But what about individuals who lack privilege? What will the aftermath of such a disruptive event look like for them years down the road? What about the part-time employee with no paid sick leave who misses a paycheck because of the two-week quarantine? What about the mother who cannot afford to go to the hospital and get tested or pay for child care? What about the young college student who is being bombarded with 20 different conspiracy theories regarding this virus's origin and who it might or might not affect? Events like this rock a nation, and despite the constant rhetoric to stay calm, people have emotions and it is very easy and human to panic.

I arrived at the CDC when there were only a handful of people diagnosed and no deaths. Two days before I left, the World Health Organization declared it a pandemic while I was out at a farewell lunch with my team. While I waited for the afternoon bus on my way home, I received three separate emails, two from administrators and one from my head heavyweight rowing coach telling us that the Ivy League decided to cancel all competitions and practice for spring sports. This was truly heartbreaking. So much of my time has been dedicated to my sport, and for many individuals — in particular the seniors on my team — they will not even get to begin their last season. Currently I need to figure out how I will complete my spring coursework although we have never had remote learning at Dartmouth, another action which will dramatically affect socioeconomically disadvantaged individuals. Throughout this process I have been given a true gut-check of my privilege and beckon the question: When will real social safety nets be put into place for those who have been clearly neglected for generations?

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