Don’t @ me: This last school year was shit
I was robbed, and so were you
It only took me three consecutives alarms to get out of bed this morning. That’s it, we’re here. We’re back to school.
Getting up five minutes before the start of class isn’t an option anymore, but I’m here for it.
I understand why some students were thriving during Zoom university, but that simply wasn’t my case.
My school days last year would look a lot like this: I would crawl out of bed, sweatpants dragging on the floor and oversized hoodie sleeves hanging down each side of my slug-like body. I’d then be woken up by the glaring light of my computer screen.
The reality is, I’m someone who’s pretty organized and who doesn't usually drown in schoolwork. Last year, however, what started out as frustration quickly became resentment.
If it’s not that one instance I wasn’t able to turn in a piece of work on time and my teacher gave me a zero, it’s that other time I couldn’t talk in class without being interrupted by a man. Or, when I was stuck in a breakout room talking to myself because the other black screens were not answering me.
The fact that I had to start working full-time in order to cover the costs of these low-quality discussions filled with people who do not want to be there is staggering.
Don’t even get me started on that infamous “COVID-19 Rec & Ath Discount” that saved us about $20 per semester.
The fact that I had to start working full-time in order to cover the costs of these low-quality discussions filled with people who do not want to be there is staggering.
Does it ring a bell? Last year, our tuition fees were reduced by this ridiculous amount, which a lot of students guessed was due to recreational activities not taking place.
I am so close to contacting Hasbro to pitch a new game idea: “Who can offend students the most with their discounts?”
If you don’t know what I’m talking about, go through the breakdown of your tuition for the last two semesters. I know, I know. That so-called discount is a joke.
The reality is the government and schools have no idea what our Zoom university experience was like. They don’t understand the financial strain it put us through. If they did, we wouldn’t be left with subpar education and mountains of debts.
Between the changing environments at our part-time jobs and the lower quality education we received with no change in tuition, this past year was taxing.
Don’t they understand that some students had to go from studying full-time to part-time in order to work more hours and afford to still stay in school? It’s called staying afloat.
In arguably good news, we are now able to request a lump sum of $200 if we were studying at a recognized institution full-time.
That $200 will only help me buy one new textbook this coming fall or cover a small percentage of the debts I am in.
Don’t they understand that some students had to go from studying full-time to part-time in order to work more hours and afford to still stay in school? It’s called staying afloat.
Don’t they know that once stores reopened, companies were eager to make money and would overwork their staff, which consists primarily of students? It’s called capitalism and it runs the world, baby.
When I think of these powerful institutions giving us lump sums or discounts, I wonder if they do it to appease their conscience. If they had really talked with students to know what the hardships were and how they can help, we would have gotten a better discount than $20 on tuition.
After a year spent on Zoom, many of us are tired, broke, depressed and at an all time low in terms of motivation.
To sum it all up, we were robbed, and I am tired of complaining. I just want my degree.
This article originally appeared in The Reorientation Issue, published September 7, 2021.
