Earlier this year, I, a 29-year-old graduate student, made the calculated decision to return to in-person classes at Chapman University. I'm in excellent health. I don't live or come into close contact with any high-risk family, friends or co-workers. I'm militant about wearing a mask. I silently recite the “Litany Against Fear” from the novel “Dune” while washing my hands. (Seriously, it's way better than singing Happy Birthday.”) 

In addition to the reasons listed above, I had another reason to return to school; I hate online learning. I'm not too fond of Zoom, I have no patience for Microsoft Teams and I am willing to take risks to get the most benefit out of my education. 

To be clear, I am not casting any blame or fault on the university. We are in the midst of a black swan moment. All institutions, public or private, have had to navigate goalposts in constant movement. What does concern me is our education's quality – not from our instructors, but from each other. 

There is a romantic ideal of a university classroom. It can be a place where disparate and seemingly irreconcilable ideas can engage in conflict and synthesize themselves into new and better ideas. Simply, it's where innovation happens. Free and open discussion is the cornerstone of all progress, regardless of the academic discipline you're studying. Instructors bring years of knowledge and specific tools to a classroom. Still, it's the student's job to engage with the material presented and combine it with their own personal and professional experience. Online learning severely inhibits that discussion.

Perhaps I'm overreacting. I'm in a graduate program within the business college, and I'm new to Chapman University. But my online classes have been dead silent. The majority of cameras are turned off, and crickets have never been happier. 

Online platforms like Zoom have realities that make class discussion harder. I am not talking about esoteric or emotional barriers like being apprehensive to share one’s opinion. I am talking about real-world hurdles. Mute buttons need to be unclicked. Microphones need to be of a certain quality and in working condition so that your classmates can hear your input. I decided to attend this university, hoping I would find myself in circles where I would need to fight for the microphone. 

I actively seek smart people who disagree with me, and I am sure that my classes are filled with such people. The problem is it's too easy to check out. It's too easy to open another tab, surf the web, shop on Amazon or scroll through Instagram. All of which I am guilty of doing. 

My time on campus was short. When I returned to in-person learning, the campus was a ghost town. I was one of three students who returned to campus out of classes of 20. But even though it felt desolate, it was better than online learning. There were protocols in place and I felt safe and at minimal risk of catching the virus. If campus reopens for in-person learning, I will be the first to return to campus.

There is help on the way. Vaccines are approaching their final trials and the future is looking a bit brighter. But I am terrified that we won't be able to make up lost ground when the all-clear bell finally rings. 

The most reliable marker of adulthood is measured by a person's independence in the world – the ability to make decisions with the best possible evidence at hand. I have faith in science, but until reinforcements arrive, we need to do all we can to ensure that education is worth every dollar we spend. 

It's a big responsibility. But it’s not the responsibility of the administration, our teachers or the future companies who will employ us. No one is coming; it's up to us.