Dear student, dear student,
You’ve been clinging to your online college education for two years. Two years apart from a few white blackbirds present, rare moments to which we clung together, like a lifeline. This session, we’re finally getting together for good. You’re not sure ? It’s true that in January, we were hot, right? Groundhog Day. Yes, we were hot. But even if we found each other, it seems to me that something is still wrong.
Two years of pandemic, it leaves marks. Recent studies (Radio-Canada, February 2022) reveal that a third of your classmates have thought about dropping out. Half have lost hope for the future. The quarter grinds dark thoughts. So many fractions that worry me. It’s an understatement: I feel fragile. I’m glad to see you back in class, you know, but it seems to me that something is always wrong.
For two years, we have called on your resilience. We tell you that the “face-to-face” will solve all your problems at the right time. This is to forget that beyond the “face-to-face”, two years separate us from normality. We would like you to believe that once you sit on the school benches, everything will be settled. We decree the return to class and presto!
Two years of pandemic, it creates gaps. A school bench, a course in presence and hop! It is settled, your literacy. Settled, functional literacy. Settled, your motivation, your commitment, your success. We can’t wait for the pandemic to end, aren’t we, that we’re ready to throw everything at the most sacred. Causes and consequences. We erase the scars and start again. After all, the important thing here and now is that you are physically seated in class. No ?
I doubt. The “face-to-face”, we are there, now. I applaud, too. And yet, something is always wrong, don’t you think? Your cohort, I feel ill-equipped. I know, I know, we must not put everyone in the same basket. Nevertheless, I feel that two years of distance learning will have created metastases that the “face-to-face” alone will not cure.
Last semester, I had my highest career failure rate. Cohort effect? May be. Never, never have I seen such demotivation on the part of some of your comrades (I write it with kindness). Never, never have I had to face such a lack of knowledge of the linguistic code. An anthology of scars and losses. And we were present. You told me blood-curdling stories of a pedagogue: “You know, sir, you just had to plug in to take the course. Depressing! That’s how you got through high school. Exit summative evaluations. Exit the ministerial test in French. Exit benevolence. Welcome to the college benches!
You know, it’s not about targeting a culprit. Whose fault is it ? To the government which, out of necessity, was forced to close schools? To secondary school teachers who have not surpassed the limits of distance education? To college teachers who do not know how to pick up the broken pots? To you, perhaps? Yes, you, who haven’t rolled up your sleeves high enough to walk almost independently in your school curriculum? The guilty ? Then we’ll deal with the culprits. First, let’s look at the victims.
I am happy to meet you. In the flesh. At last. I repeat it at the beginning of each lesson: thank you for your presence. Even if we found each other, seems to me that something is wrong. What can you do to help you fuel your motivation? Your commitment? A taste for culture, freedom and pleasure? The call of sweet intellectual madness after two years of liquid crystals? What can you do to fix your sanity after two years? Give you a school desk? Of course, yes, but I’m afraid that’s not enough.