I often sit with myself—and at times with friends and colleagues, though our meetings have mostly become remote—talking about our children during the Corona era. How, in the blink of an eye, everything turned into “distance”: distance learning, distance graduations. Even the slogan of graduation parties became “Celebrate from afar.” They studied remotely, celebrated remotely, communicated remotely, even grieved remotely. This was life in a time we had never known before.
Yet, many high school graduates feel lost. With every year marked by COVID-19, joy seems incomplete—an achievement stripped of substance, an illusory triumph. It is as though our age itself has been stamped with loss.
Can the Corona batch—whether high school or university graduates—truly be capable and proficient in their professions? Is a high school student, in such circumstances, truly able to make a genuine and informed choice for a future career? This is the generation of online exams, virtual theses, and digital celebrations. But there are fields where without real, hands-on practice, no graduate can master the profession.
So, how can I trust the engineer who graduated in the time of Corona? Should I hand him the keys to my dream home? And how can I trust the doctor whose medical education was confined to a screen? And what of other professions, across every field? How, how, how?!
I don’t know. This is the talk of the street. The situation has become, at its core, a psychological crisis of trust for all who lived through these Corona years. We cannot easily feel comfortable in dealing with this generation, for we all know how they studied, how they graduated, and how they are expected to practice their professions. I don’t know. I find it difficult to accept that we are now face to face with a generation shaped by Corona. I don’t know…
This virtual generation unsettles us. They are endlessly enthusiastic, cheerful in all circumstances, quick to accept whatever comes. Yet, beneath the surface, many drift aimlessly, like robots wearing graduation gowns only to mimic the ritual of the occasion. Can it really be true that 91% of students passed high school?!
But this is frightening. For we stand before an uncertain, ambiguous future—its pages scattered, its order swept away by the storm of Corona. The very frontlines of education have been struck hard. Our joy remains incomplete, for it is we who must live with the outcomes.
And the question lingers: can we trust this generation that graduated in the time of Corona? Will it inspire and guide those who come after, or will it leave behind only doubt? Let us bring every voice to the table, and together restore the balance that has been lost.
