Without questioning it, the virtual option at our school looks like the ultimate luxury. A classroom without walls, a schedule you can choose from, and freedom to log on at any time from the comfort of a sofa.
That lasted my freshman year. While I endured that comfort I lost qualities in the very things that build successful adults.
Last year, when I was virtual I thought I had the system hacked. I could breeze through my cumulative test in thirty minutes, scroll on my phone during edgenuity videos, finish my work in twenty minutes and still see an ‘4’ on my transcript.
The typical virtual class looks like playing a video game you don’t want to play.
I mute the robotic sounding video, sit in silence and hunt for the right answers just to see “Tasked Submitted” notification
In a physical classroom, I’d have to struggle with a concept until it clicks.
In the time it took me to scroll past a dozen videos
I was losing the one skill the real world actually requires
Discipline.
Online, I only have to struggle until I search for the right term.
It felt like the ultimate flex, but behind the screen, my work ethic was flattening.
I was trading my future for a shortcut. Coming back to in-person school was my wake-up call.
I realized that without the physical presence of the teachers and peers, my work ethic shrivelled.
High school is supposed to be a social space. It’s where you learn to steer the tension of a difficult conversation, an environment where you learn to read a room or look a teacher in the eye when you don’t have the answer.
This lack of human connection is what caused my work ethic to shrivel.
Without the “grit” of a real classroom, or a teacher to challenge my ideas and a peer to work alongside, It felt I had no reason to push myself.
This helped me realize that grit isn’t something you build alone in a bedroom.
It’s built in the raw environment of a classroom.
In eye contact with a teacher who expects more from you, and in the energy of a room full of people aiming for the same goal.
Last year, I thought I was hacking the system.
This year, I realized the system was hacking me, stripping away my drive, my discipline, and my connection to others.
