Dear school, or rather, dear university,
My name is Elena and today I am writing you this melancholy letter, full of love and anger.
Dear university, I am writing to you perhaps because you you have been forgotten, just like us who hang out with you. Yet it seems paradoxical to me, I grew up for a lifetime hearing how much the university was now fundamental.
“Anyone requires a degree for any type of job”, they told me, “a diploma is not enough”, they told me, “it’s the university that provides you with the necessary skills”, they always told me.
You are so fundamental and important that no one has talked about you in a year.
Do you know fear before an exam?
Have you experienced the silence that enters you when you stare at a monitor before an exam?
Have you felt the fear on your skin when the audio does not work, the PC does not connect or freezes and you realize that you will not be able to take the exam?
Did you receive the e-mails at four in the morning giving indications on the exams?
How many times have you read “examination method to be defined”?
How many documents have you scanned in vain?
Did you have problems because you lost deliveries, given the numerous, almost infinite, platforms used?
Have you ever lacked air? And that lump in your throat that you can’t undo, that panic attack before an exam, “I don’t remember anything”, “I’ll never pass it”, “and this is how it was done”, that a friend could calm down, but the wall in front of you couldn’t.
How many emails did the secretariat not answer? How many emails has your rapporteur not replied to? How many professors, also exhausted by the situation, have answered you badly when you needed it? How many relationships have you no longer cultivated?
You know dear University, nobody considers you and nobody considers us. Maybe they consider us old and mature enough to get by on our own, but maybe we deserve guidance too.
A year later, since the last time I saw you, I would like, dear University, that someone would take us into consideration.
They should scream what they have deprived us of.
The services we paid for and not received should be screaming.
The inconveniences they created us should be screaming.
The psychological ailments that this damn DAD brought us should be screaming, not to mention the dietary ones caused by stress.
Once I dreamed that one day my parents, with tears in their eyes, would see me shake hands with the rector and would be proud of me, now, dear University, I dream that the software works with which to attend my graduation, and lucky the graduates, who are back in attendance, because perhaps they are more important.
You can send your letter to the school at the following address: firstname.lastname@example.org. The letters are published in the special Dear School, I am writing to you …