There is no denying that the Covid-19 pandemic has forced us to reevaluate our sense of community and ask ourselves what we owe each other. On Feb. 11, the NYU Abu Dhabi student body received a detailed email from Dean Farley and the Student Conduct Committee reminding us of our collective community responsibility during the pandemic. The email also introduced a new method of holding students accountable: the Community Standards Non-Compliance Report Form, the latest in a series of efforts by the university administration to ensure that the public health guidelines in place are being followed.

It is painfully clear that our community needs a system of accountability, but does the Community Standards Non-Compliance Report Form provide an adequate and equitable method of doing so? On that, the jury remains out.

In an ideal world, one could easily approach any student violating public health guidelines without discomfort and fear. And such a form need not exist. Unfortunately this is not the case, and sometimes no matter how many times one reasonably approaches someone, it might not be enough. In such situations, this form allows one to avoid a potentially confrontational interaction. Further, the existence of the form itself acts as a sort of deterrent in the collective consciousness of the student body, since it is far more likely for our peers to be witness to violations of public health guidelines as opposed to Public Safety or administration.

This, however, leads to the question of whether the Non-Compliance Report Form will foster a culture of mistrust and fear within the student body. According to Colleen Mader, Class of 2024, “given the diversity of the student body and [the] different dynamics of power, it puts students in a really uncomfortable position to have to call each other out.”

While I understand the reasoning behind this concern, it should pale in comparison to the fear and uncertainty felt by the student body right now, especially by those who are immunocompromised or have lost loved ones to the pandemic. If these violations continue to occur, D2 could close as it did last spring. There could be limited access to residential buildings. Shuttles off campus could be suspended. The quality of life on campus — what motivated many of us to come back to Abu Dhabi — could be severely compromised. The non-compliance reporting form is an opportunity to prevent this outcome.

There is one caveat to all this, however; the report form is directed only at the student body. Faculty members and administrative staff are exempt from being reported and held accountable in a similar manner, which is a gross oversight.

A few days ago at the Marketplace, while I was having my customary bowl of acai and simultaneously ignoring my campus dirham balance, I noticed a contract staff member walk up to four faculty members. They were not socially distancing and only one was wearing a mask. He politely asked them to sit apart and wear their masks — as he has done countless times before with students. However, instead of complying with his request, these faculty members patronizingly spoke back to him. I couldn’t hear the conversation, but I could see the staff member becoming increasingly uncomfortable, unsure of how to approach such a situation. Finally, he left, and as he passed by me, shook his head in defeat.

The unfortunate reality is that even if all students follow the current public health guidelines, these efforts will be in vain if the entire NYUAD community — faculty and administration included — is not obliged to do the same. When different guidelines and expectations exist for different community members, it creates a false sense of disconnect and detachment within the community.

Students and faculty do not exist in isolated bubbles; we occupy the same public spaces such as the Marketplace, the library, the library cafe, the fitness center and even spaces such as elevators and corridors. I see professors having lunch at the Marketplace with their families. I see professors jogging along the Highline. The stream of interactions and connections which existed between faculty and students before the pandemic is still present; they might be limited in nature, but to suppose they are non-existent only serves to undermine the effectiveness of the public health guidelines in place. Currently, faculty and students are expected to follow different guidelines, which in itself is a dangerous way to approach such a tense and ever-changing situation. More urgently, there is no transparent and detailed system of accountability in place for faculty.

According to Associate Dean of Students, Michael Martinez, “the Student Conduct Committee doesn’t have any authority to adjudicate cases of violations beyond the student [body].” I understand that it might seem difficult to create and implement a uniform system of accountability for both faculty and students, but this perceived difficulty is based on the premise that faculty members, simply by virtue of their profession, occupy a position of power and privilege above and beyond that of the student body. This mentality is problematic in general, but it is particularly harmful in the middle of a pandemic; especially one which has irrevocably tied together individual responsibility and community wellbeing. If students are being told to wear masks at the Marketplace, faculty members should be required to do the same. If students are being told to sit 18 chihuahuas apart in public spaces, faculty members should be expected to behave accordingly. More importantly, if students are at risk of being reported for violating public health guidelines — and consequently stand to lose housing privileges — faculty should not be exempt from consequences; at the very least, there should be a certain transparent level of accountability expected of them.

It is human to push aside the urgency of our current situation. It is also human to slip up and make mistakes. But to intentionally and wilfully violate public health guidelines is to endanger the health and well-being of our community. It is reckless and irresponsible. And when we choose to act in such a manner, we lose the right to expect compassion and empathy from the community as well as the right to complain about being held accountable. The Non-Compliance Form is a necessary evil, but it is crucial to remember that by occupying the same public spaces, the burden of responsibility placed on students and faculty to maintain community well-being should be equal.

The double standards surrounding the treatment of students and non-students on campus are hypocritical and should be corrected, if purely for the practical purpose of ensuring that our community is safe. If the university administration is continuously reminding students of our responsibility to the community at large, and actively implementing measures to emphasize that sense of accountability, then other community members should be held accountable in the same manner. It makes no logical sense for the administration to continue to treat the faculty and student body as disparate entities when the pandemic fails to distinguish between the two.