One year ago, I expressed my deepest condolences to my class of 2020 peers set to graduate in the midst of a pandemic. It was easy to feel sorry for them. Spring term, the sunny and allergy riddled apex of Eugene life, was snatched from their outstretched arms. All that remained was online learning, a revolutionary form of education where students pay full tuition to teach themselves from the comfort of their Ikea furniture, pushing the boundaries of apartment WiFi networks from 13th Avenue to Springfield.
As COVID-19 cases spiked around the world, with zero indication of a vaccine in sight, UO maintained that fall 2020 would resemble normalcy. Registration rolled around, coinciding with expiring leases. With some assurances from UO and the promise of the largest graduation in school history on the horizon, I geared up for my final academic year. Surrounded by apocalyptic conditions, I took comfort in the fact that my higher education institution cared about me.
Summer came and went, as I anxiously awaited the email outlining UO’s COVID-19 guidelines. Much to my pleasure, UO announced that courses would remain online for the entirety of the term. I counted my lucky stars, excited to teach myself more crucial knowledge without the hindrance of a proper classroom support system. Surely UO prepared my educators to adopt an entirely new style of teaching without adequate resources, on top of any new responsibilities they had at home! Teaching from home gives everyone more time to appreciate the lovable distractions they once had to avoid in the workplace.
Conditions weren’t safe enough to allow 20 upperclassmen in a classroom. But, fortunately, UO was brave enough to disregard its own advice and pack the dormitories. Not in the name of money, of course, but for the betterment of its students. Young freshmen living alone for the first time would never dare make a mistake. Luckily, dorms are some of the cleanest places on Earth, because dozens of students sharing the same utilities is the perfect way to prevent the spread of a virus. And of course, if a student does happen to contract COVID-19, they get a luxury stay in Eugene’s finest former hotels — Barnhart and Riley. Non-coincidentally, this population ushered in the modern sticky-note art renaissance.
The 2020-21 school year kindly reminded students that we are worth almost as much as our tuition payments. The dedication to making unpaid athletes play for the financial gain of the university highlighted the attention and care that could theoretically be applied to the majority of community members. Poor UO worked so hard to give us the bare minimum standard of a college education that it had no choice but to impose yet another tuition raise on its next generation of students. The higher education system is facing more challenges than ever, and students asking for more affordable tuition, respect and transparency are making life oh so hard for our governing bodies. Thankfully, UO President Michael Schill saved the day by teaching a course detailing the issues and challenges of higher education. No one knows the specifics of a flawed system better than the perpetrators themselves, right?
As I prepare to enter the real world and get berated into donating to my beloved alma mater, I sleep well at night knowing that my university loves me.