After the tumultuous and highly charged re-election of Donald Trump, universities across the United States appear to be trying to wrestle with the emotional fallout, offering what many are calling overly accommodating measures to assist distressed students. Classes were canceled, exams postponed, and therapy animals introduced to create more supportive environments for those struggling with the results.
For example, at Harvard University and the University of Pennsylvania, students were granted lighter schedules, with absences being excused and assignments rescheduled. Reports indicate the dean at Harvard encouraged students to process their feelings through dialogue, prioritizing emotional well-being.
Meanwhile, the Georgetown University McCourt School announced the creation of a "Self-Care Suite" where students could engage in therapeutic activities such as playing with Lego, coloring with crayons, and enjoying milk and cookies. Such initiatives extended to other institutions, where several universities turned their campuses effectively “into huge, open-air therapy sessions.”
Students at Princeton participated in ‘listening circles’ to discuss their feelings about the election, creating spaces deemed "safe" for expressing emotions. Others at the University of Puget Sound could unwind with calming music and arts and crafts activities for an entire week dedicated to self-care.
Despite these self-care movements, some students expressed frustration at the universities’ apparent double standards. They pointed out the lack of similar support or acknowledgment after tragic events, such as the Hamas attacks on Israel just weeks prior—even when those events directly impacted students and communities.
Conversations about ‘post-election depression’ have also surged online, with social media buzzing about how individuals cope with the election's aftermath. Many are calling for what some label emotional crutches like therapy reigns and even visits from emotionally-supportive ducks. Juxtaposed against actual grief and loss, it raises the question—how have we reached this level of dependency on support for political outcomes?
On the flip side, some commentators have criticized what they describe as overreactions. They argue it reflects broader issues within the liberal left, displaying tendencies of immaturity and inability to cope with disappointment. For example, one writer provocatively posed, “If America’s liberal leftists struggle to get through an election without recourse to emotional-support ducks, no wonder many of their fellow Americans do not trust them to rule.”
The ‘Self-Care Suite’ initiative at Georgetown showcases how the educational sphere has been drawn increasingly onto the emotional support rope. Critics have described the measures as emblematic of broader cultural dynamics where emotional responses to political outcomes are now being legitimized to the extent they shape educational policies.
This reliance on emotional accommodation is not exclusive to universities. The media space, too, saw heightened expressions of concern for employees following Trump's electoral success. For example, the Guardian provided additional counseling options for its staff, framing the election as upsetting and urging management to be more emotionally supportive.
Across various sectors of society, the responses have continued. One quaint yet possibly tone-deaf gesture came from The Collective, who shut down operations for the day to allow employees to participate in collective grieving activities. This serves as both commentary on modern workplaces and the dominant cultural narrative surrounding emotional responses to political developments.
Nevertheless, as institutions hemorrhage workloads and expectations for emotional support skyrocket, one can’t help but wonder about the potential long-term repercussions of such coddling. Will today’s students who are afforded emotional respites and therapeutic interventions, retain coping mechanisms adequate for future challenges? Or has this era of handling political disappointment by withdrawing to play with crayons and therapy animals fundamentally altered the way upcoming generations approach hardship?
With the electoral aftermath looming, it seems campuses will continue to adapt their support policies. While those involved attempt to navigate these complex emotional waters, society remains split between offering genuine support and questioning the maturity of such entitlements. Such cultural reflections may resonate long after the thrill of this election fades, shaping future dialogues about mental health and political engagement.
What remains clear is the substantial interest across America about how these ‘coddling’ methods influence both immediate emotional recovery and wider sociopolitical perspectives. It opens up discussions about vulnerability, mental health, and personal responsibility during tumultuous times. Many agree, as institutions adapt area-wide support networks, there is serious food for thought on whether these changes might equip students with the necessary resilience to face future uncertainties, politically and personally.
Will America, as it presses forward from these trying political times, be able to strike the right chord between compassion for emotional expressions and the cultivation of longstanding resilience? How institutions choose to support those struggling and what boundaries will be drawn going forward could play significant roles.
