In a small corner of my room, I sit staring at a bright screen. I feel trapped. The routine of my days always feels the same: wake up, eat breakfast, join my Zoom meeting, go to sleep, and repeat. Day after day, class after class, it all feels the same. 

 The smell of coffee lingers in the air as I attempt to stay awake for my next online class. I don't even know why I show up; nobody would notice if there was one less person in the class. After all, it is online. My fingers tap my keyboard in frustration as I work on my next math problem, which seems to take forever. I struggle with the problem like a traveler in a treacherous, dense forest.

The neighbor's dogs barking, freeway traffic, and the muffled voice of an online lecture taking place through my speaker collide. The lack of interaction intensifies my confusion and isolation. 

As a high school sophomore, I miss the lively sounds of my classrooms, the learning, the collaboration, and the connections I made with my teachers. I miss weight training in PE every day and seeing my coach and my teammates. Over spring break these interactive environments, once a place for independent growth and social connection, were taken from my generation. I remember my friends saying, “See you guys in two weeks!” Two weeks turned into months, which eventually turned into almost two years of online learning. In-person interactions were reduced to a memory.

Until the pandemic, I never imagined such devastating loneliness. My motivation hit rock bottom. I didn't feel like leaving my room or turning in my assignments; even something as simple as joining my classes seemed like too much effort. My once vibrant bedroom, where I now spent most of my days, turned a claustrophobic gray. This online learning environment that was meant to be temporary seemed permanent.

I began to struggle in my classes. It was hard to learn online. I felt like I had to teach myself. All of our fun in-person labs were reduced to confusing YouTube videos. I asked myself, “How do I do this?” 

The voice in the back of my head responded, “Figure it out! Don't ask for help!” So I didn’t, which didn't work out so well for me, because I didn’t figure it out. I failed my first chemistry lab assignment, which had never happened to me before.

I didn't know if the feeling of isolation, loneliness, disappointment would ever leave my side. The question loomed: will I ever get back to my regular life?

Until the pandemic subsided and in-person school took back its role in my life. School bells rang, and children filled the halls with chatter and excitement. I saw my old teachers, coaches, and friends. “I am so happy to see you,” I told them. 

“I missed you!” they said back. Life felt complete again. I wondered how I had managed without this for so long. It felt like I had almost forgotten what it was like to be human. Tiny, bland faces on computer screens were now full of color and life. No more glitchy audio and frozen screens. Voices filled the air, no more dogs barking or traffic noises.

I will admit, it felt weird to be back. I had forgotten how to interact with classmates; it had been so long. I would sometimes pause and ask myself, “Is this really happening? Am I actually back at school?”

My grades improved dramatically. Whenever I felt unsure about raising my hand for a question, a kid a few seats down from me would always raise his hand and ask the same question. In person, I was finally able to learn from my mistakes and get an instantaneous perspective on the subject I was studying. Any time I needed help with a problem, my classmates and teachers would help out. Something I never had during my year of online schooling. I finally wasn’t alone. Assignments made more sense, labs started back up, and my teachers didn’t have to call on names off a computer screen anymore.

Some people argue that online school works better for them because it provides flexibility and self-discipline. For those who have lots of responsibilities, such as work, family, or personal matters, the ability to create an online learning schedule can be a game-changer. 

Although this learning method may work for some people, it will not work for the majority. As most of my friends, teachers, and I learned from this experience that to succeed, we needed to be in the classroom learning. Self-discipline seemed impossible during the time I spent doing online school. For me, the benefits of in-person schooling outweigh the loneliness and confusion of “learning” through a screen.

Online school is like solitary confinement, isolated and seemingly neverending. It’s like being locked in a cage like an animal at the zoo; taken from its natural habitat and stripped of its essential needs. Forced to live a life confining your environment. Imagine yourself sitting in a room alone, with no physical human contact; just you and your thoughts tied together like a knot. You stare at the wall and imagine the life you once lived. You dream of touching grass again and hanging out with your friends. You begin to detach yourself from reality; changing your perspective of the world as you know it. For those of us who survived online school during quarantine, we didn’t have to imagine- we lived it.