There are two hundred students crammed into a single classroom, each with their own unique perspectives, dreams, and struggles. Despite how different we all are, we end up sitting in neat rows while the professor stands at the front, trying to reach us.
To be honest, it doesn’t feel like he’s really trying. I stayed focused for about a month, but once exams started creeping up, my focus shifted. I tuned out of the lectures, started cramming, and let the rest of the semester slip by. And the parts I ignored? Yeah, they came back to haunt me.
The view from the back of the room is bleak. Out of 200 students, roughly 130 are just copying down every word the professor says. The lecture goes on and on, and sometimes there’s a half-hearted attempt to engage us with a simple, one-word-answer question. But the reality is, we’re divided: most of us are note-takers who are barely keeping up, a small handful are fully engaged, and then there are those who just completely check out—heads down, phones out, or eyes glazed over.
The Illusion of Engagement
Let’s be real: those 130 students taking notes aren’t really engaged either. Writing down every word doesn’t mean we’re learning. Watching everyone scribble away makes me question the entire university experience—especially at these big, impersonal institutions. Unless you’re in a small enough class where people know your name, or you’re here for the connections, what’s the point? Are we really getting anything worthwhile from this?
There’s this belief that having a degree makes you a better employee. I’m not sure I buy it. A degree might mean you’re more stable or capable of following instructions, but pursuing higher education just for the sake of getting a job? It feels empty like we’re just checking off boxes for the sake of it.
I get it, though. The system is designed to provide stability. Young people need direction, and the university gives us that. It’s a clear path that makes us feel secure. But in chasing that security, we end up losing the passion that should be driving us. We start out curious, creative, and full of potential, but that spark fades as we settle into the safe, prescribed path. Our generation is anxious, but we’re not using that anxiety to fuel anything meaningful. Instead, it’s turning into exhaustion and fear.
Large universities aren’t encouraging us to grow; they’re putting our lives on pause while we figure out what to do next. The energy we have should be pushing us forward, not keeping us in limbo. We’re being trained to be “good enough”—good enough to pass exams, good enough to get a job, but not to actually make an impact.
How I Got Here
After I finished my bachelor's degree, I wanted to pursue entrepreneurship. I was excited—I wanted to build something real, something that mattered. Life is not always playing along tho. I couldn’t complete my thesis or differential exams on time, and to keep my visa, I ended up enrolling in a master's program at the same university. There were only six of us in the program, which made it more personal compared to my experience in Ljubljana. But the city that I was in, felt too boring. I was stuck in my own head, feeling like I was missing out while everyone else was moving forward.
I think every student feels that at some point—the fear that we’re stagnating. We forget to live in the moment because we’re too busy worrying about what comes next. The problem is that universities aren’t helping us figure that out. Instead, they’re forcing us into a mold that doesn’t fit most of us. They don’t encourage us to embrace our uniqueness; they encourage us to conform.
Change
I’m not saying universities are completely useless. When done right, they can be incredibly valuable. But we need to acknowledge that the system is broken. It’s outdated and slow to adapt, and that’s a problem. As an economics student, I get it—resources are limited, and there’s no perfect way to cater to everyone’s needs. But with all the technology and knowledge we have today, we should be doing better.
Why are we still learning the same way students did a hundred years ago? Sometimes it feels we’re moving backward. We have so much information at our fingertips, yet we’re still sitting in lecture halls, copying notes, and hoping that somehow translates into knowledge. And for what? A piece of paper that says we’re ready for the workforce? Most of us end up in jobs that feel meaningless anyway, working just to get by.
It’s frustrating. We should be using what we learn to make a difference, not just to survive. We should be learning how to solve real problems, not just how to pass exams.
Maybe this is just me being overly critical. Maybe I’m just tired of the routine. But I can’t help feeling like millions of others out there feel the same. We’re hungry for something more, but we’re being fed the wrong things. We’re told that if we follow the rules, we’ll be rewarded, but the reality is far less satisfying.
The system is lying to you.
Why are we still moving so slowly? Why is the world not keeping up with us? We have the energy, the drive, and the desire to make a difference. We just need a system that recognizes that—and helps us make it happen.