“My name is Lady Whistledown. You do not know me, and never shall. But be forewarned, dear reader, for I certainly know you. “
Dearest gentle reader,
From the shackling lockdown to the horrifyingly drivelous classes on flat surfaces, this year has been a crusade even the toughest of men cannot survive unscathed. A despairing effect of the state of affairs is the apathy that has once again inhabited the Ton, as students and teachers alike have chosen to either be mum or blind to the highly distasteful unfolding of events. One says that if the perpetrators are unaware of what took place, the witnesses must be completely useless; well, this author simply refuses to be a casualty of ignorance, for I shall arise from the miasma of pretenses and uncover the scandal of a failing education system of the coveted CON.
Probably one of the most deplorable ruses of the season is how the whole College hides the ghastly reality of the situation by peacocking a display of contrivances that veils the ugly truth. Cries of anguish from students of every level is tuned out with an aria of purchasing brand new beds and lavs for the Skills Laboratory; but certainly, no one, not even this jaded author, can fault them for this venture as this is imperative to ensure a future once the pandemic has graciously taken its leave. But alas, the lay of the land is indeed far from normal, for if it is the case then I would not be fancying myself with declarations of dissent, rather I would be celebrating with an encomium in situ.
Dear reader, you must know that this author is left slack-jawed by the lack of attention given to the matter at hand, that is the need to address the inadequacies of online classes, in favor of touching up the venue for a party that is not to be expected soon. It has also come to this author’s attention that many hackles have arisen from the erroneous exchange of services between the students and the system; picture this dear reader, you have paid for a fine piece of premium steak but was rather given a can of corned beef, or for my fellow Bridgerton enthusiasts, expecting for a Simon Basset but was rather given a Nigel Berbrooke. We can only imagine the face of the young Nightingales when they came to a slapping conclusion that the RLE fee was too high a price for discovering the skills of video editing and improvisation that even an engineer would envy.
Now riddle me this, how can one fare in the hospital area when they are acclimated to having cell phone chargers for an infusion set? Why must the students do the heavy lifting in every aspect of this scenario when they are the ones needing the most support? Pray tell, why must a student be asked for so much when the clinical instructors barely rise to the occasion and perform the act of Magis, the very core of this institution? The students are levied with an RLE fee only to be encumbered with filming and editing videos that are barely given any feedback, and even in the absence of the requirements of a camera, lessons discussed during the RLE are facsimiles of the one given during the classroom session. Surely, one would be fed up being handed with two cans of the same brand of corned beef. It is always featured that a chain of the protocol must be followed as a preemptive measure against ambiguous and messy scandals, but how can these grievances ever land on the ears of the concerned administration for the ones expected to bullhorn are rather muted in this delicate of times.
The organization officers of the College of Nursing are astonishingly losing specific gravity as they enjoy the safety of being weightless; but fret not for I do not fault them entirely, for their valiant efforts at alleviating the stress of the academic life are to be lauded. However, a challenge must be well under its way: would you, dear NAO officers, resonate the same sentiments and finally recognize the elephant in the room? Or would you rather continue to offer sympathy by continued silence? On to another juicy matter, we shall dive, but this author is on the horns of a dilemma; should I inconvenience myself by giving levity to the unappetizing performance of the Clinical Instructors? Sessions filled with hours and hours of PowerPoint orations would surely drain even the most ecstatic student, but this would have been forgivable if the conjured party is reasonable in their academic demands though I must say only a handpicked few could be given the award of rationality. There are even ones that display behaviors that would give the registrar a run for its position, changing class schedules with poorly masked apathy for the students’ own personal affairs as they ask with gall; “would it be alright?” As if they can even disagree. As if they have a choice.
On this note, this author would like to conjure a billet-doux to a certain clinical instructor that breaks all the human standards of decency: Four long hours of agonizing discussion that revolves around their life stories, unnecessarily lengthy recaps, their favorite shows and stars, and anything and everything under the sun that showcases their verbose eloquence. This CI terrorizes students by means of successive recitations of topics they are yet to explain and expects accurate answers in return, furthermore the most infuriating asset of theirs is the consistent failure to provide clear and concise instructions for the activities or requirements and they do not even give the light of the day any queries and clarifications sent to their inbox by confused students. I know that there are no comme il faut Clinical Instructors, they are human after all, but this one I am not certain, for they exhaust what little is left of the nightingales like how Beelzebub consumes the souls of his victims.
I shall round the discussion back to the Related Learning Experience; the allure of a physical RLE session come this summer has surely gotten the Ton abuzz as promises of improved deliverance is well on its way, and I for certainly, am one of those who look forward to a better academic experience, one that is deserving to be boasted as a result of the excellence they so piously brand on all of their feats. What I would dread to hear is another up-and-coming RLE fee to be paid again to experience improvement because, pardon the crassness, these past RLE sessions are unusable! It is only fitting to be a recipient of a quality face-to-face RLE free of charge in lieu of its very unsatisfactory predecessor.
If this author is charged another payment, expect me to be back dear readers. I could write a book on these matters and showcase my flair for writing, but none of these will matter if it would land on deaf ears and blind eyes. Even a single sentence could bring about change if only they would listen; if only the CON would accept criticisms and use them as stepping stones to heal what needs to be mended. If only they would open their minds and realize that you need them to be with you and not against you.
What the students ask is nothing grand; they do not wish for the CIs to do the impossible, they merely want to receive the commensurate of what they have given. Be passionate with your teaching, be reasonable with your demands, be empathetic with your students. Be the teachers that your students need you to be. That is what they have been fighting for all this time. But the fight is slowly dying, all because every dissent is silenced for they would rather be held up in the pedestal of lies than bow down in acknowledgment of the truth. I have chosen to exist this moment for my patience has all but run dry, I am finished being a mere spectator of this phenomenon, I have now become a writer that brazen the spirits of her downtrodden readers. I am here to tell you to speak up.
Blowing the whistle on the failures of the system is a task for the dauntless and I, dear reader, am nothing but a coward hiding from the darkest of shadows praying that anonymity shall cushion my fall. I am positive that my writing would be received with the most negative of spirits, but echoing the words of Justice Leonen; “Our silence when we have the ability to speak is in itself a cause of injustice.” I have nothing but found myself in a position adjacent to subjugation, and I have simply chosen to declare caveat lector, to let the readers be aware, and I cannot nor will I ever apologize for that.
— Florence 15th
Disclaimer: The LIGHTKEEPER of The BEACON, is an open-themed section that houses and publishes contents submitted by members of the AdZU community. Published submissions do not reflect the opinions of The BEACON; as these are personal views of the author. The section’s purpose is to give the AdZU community a platform to voice out their personal opinions and experiences.
