Dear in-person classes

Photo of students walking through Sather Gate
Sunny Shen/File

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Dear in-person classes, 

I remember the day we first met. It was early morning, and I was tired from staying awake the entire night before, lying awake wondering how the day would go. But when we met officially, it was like you never left. Very quickly, things fell into place, classes after classes, iced coffee breaks in between and late-night study sessions in the library after a long day. The first month was great; you introduced me to so many new people, and I made fond memories, pushing aside the looming reality that I had to wake up far too early to see you. However, as time passed, our relationship grew sour. 

Suddenly, the early morning classes were not kickstarts to my day, but obstacles toward an eight-hour sleep schedule. The night classes became a hassle, and the midday classes often became the reason why I did not eat lunch for most of October. As quickly as we fell into a rhythm, we fell apart. Although I would say it’s because we expected it to be the same as before, it wasn’t. You were draining this semester, and I think the whole campus felt it at times. But was I taking you for granted? 

This semester was rough. Yet, as I look at our final week together, I can’t help but recognize a part of me that will miss you. Maybe it was because I did take our relationship for granted at times, or sometimes, between the late-night study sessions and the early morning walk to campus, I lost sight of the things that I loved about you. That I loved sharing experiences and memories with the people in my classes or I found Berkeley beautiful in the morning and even more beautiful after my night classes. Either way, now that our journey is reaching an end, I recognize I will miss you when you are gone, and maybe that is why I am writing this letter. 

However, this is not a letter to reminisce on our time together or wish for all of the things that I wanted to be different. It is a letter of goodbye. Goodbye, in-person classes. I did appreciate you while you lasted — as you can tell from this all-too-dramatic letter. 

I will miss you. 

Contact Isabella Carreno at [email protected].