What Do We Lose When We Learn Online?

The YX Foundation
The YX Foundation Journal
5 min readOct 9, 2020

by Jasmine M. Green

Mentor: Profs. Noelani Arista & David A.M. Goldberg; Student Editor: Nadine Bahour

Digital graphic of laptops, tablets, keyboards, and other devices being used by a student.

On August 4th, roughly one month before the first day of school, Chicago Public Schools announced that the upcoming semester would launch remotely. Chicago Public Schools is the nation’s third largest school district, educating almost 400,000 children grades kindergarten through twelve. Just the day before, on August 3rd, hundreds of CPS teachers rallied outside city hall to pressure recently-elected mayor Lori Lightfoot to move learning to a virtual platform. Citing a desire to align with public health guidelines, assuage the fears of families, and, less transparently, prevent the second Chicago Teachers Union strike in less than a year, Lightfoot’s office conceded and resolved to begin this school year online (Hao).

As a recent CPS alum, I fully understand the concerns raised by teachers and families over the previously proposed hybrid model of learning; the COVID-19 pandemic is worsening by the day, and although summer wanes into fall, there is still no guarantee that the Chicago’s plateauing positivity rate will completely erode (Yoder and Berlin).

However, as a recent CPS alum, I also understand the many limitations to remote learning. My own senior year was interrupted by COVID-19, and I became immensely bored with e-learning soon after its implementation. Classes that I once loved grew mundane, and classes I was already adverse to had become unbearable.

The hasty transition from classrooms to my bedroom disrupted a routine that had not been altered in nearly thirteen years. My daily schedule of waking before dawn, sleepily commuting to school, and studying intermittently for eight hours was reduced to simply booting up my laptop, logging into Google classroom, and completing a number of worksheets. That was it. For 12 weeks.

In an attempt to recreate actual social interaction, many of my courses transitioned to meeting on a live video-chatting platform, such as Zoom or Google Meets. However, I struggled to cope with this inorganic method of communication. Talking in online class felt strange. When school was physically in session, I could just shoot my hand into the air and articulate whatever thoughts came to mind.

With distance learning, I had to wait for there to be a lull in the lecture, then unmute my microphone, then awkwardly break the silence and watch my 30 classmates stare blankly in my general direction. I could view my own trepidation in the corner of the screen — answering my teachers’ questions felt like giving a deposition. And so I stopped speaking up, which (and my teachers could certainly attest to this), is very unlike me.

But, that was my general experience with online learning. It made me feel not like myself. Being an excellent student, a characteristic that I held adjacent to my self worth, no longer described me. I, a straight A-student since seventh grade, top of my class, Harvard-bound, was for the first time in my life painfully uninterested in my own education. I felt rigidly apathetic, and it was difficult to remember the student I used to be.

In the last six or so weeks of online learning, I made a consistent effort to salvage the passion that was lost in digitization. I tried replying to month old emails from my teachers and waking up at the time I normally would for school, but that just made me even more miserable. I was extremely frustrated, because everything I liked about school was gone. I couldn’t even look forward to the monumental events I had been dreaming about since freshman year, like prom and graduation. I discovered during this time that my emotional state was more of a hindrance to my learning than my barely operable laptop or unstable internet connection. The technological issues were certainly annoying, but the way that I missed school was just tragic.

High school isn’t a utopia, but it’s authentic. It’s where I’ve formed some of my greatest memories and met some of my best friends. It is hard to appreciate an education without a physical institution. It is hard to get excited about learning when I’ll be doing it all alone.

However, I want to be clear about the purpose of this piece. I am in no way arguing for schools to reopen; amidst a global pandemic, it is much safer to learn from home. My point is that the transition and implementation of an entirely virtual learning environment will not be seamless. It has to be approached with care.

Nothing we lose when we learn online is worth more than what we preserve. We will preserve a sense of normalcy, however distorted. We will not have to put our lives as students and as teachers on hold. Kids will still learn crucial information, build their academic repertoire, and hopefully, discover what excites them. But they will do so in isolation. For the first time in most of our lives, we, as students, will be alone.

So, really, this is an open letter. Dear CPS and all other public school districts, please do not pretend that online learning is interchangeable with normal schooling. Human connection will never be the same online and there is nothing that teachers or school administrators can do about it. Borrowed computers and loaned Wi-Fi routers will not redeem what fails e-learning. Yes, students will still receive the same information as before, but the experience will be diluted. Learning will feel emotionally distant. Students, like myself, will be stuck at home, longing for traditional school while simultaneously trying to engage with this new version of it. This incongruence within the learning environment is what will unravel distance learning, if you are not careful.

I implore you, educators and school administrators, to approach this unusual school year with as much patience and support as possible. The world will return back to normal again, but until then, students will be forced to adapt. All I ask is that you adapt along with us.

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The YX Foundation
The YX Foundation Journal

The YX Foundation is a coalition dedicated to community engagement at the intersection of deep technology and critical race theory.