In my sociology class last semester, one of my classmates attributed the increased aggression and fighting among middle school and high school students to the pandemic, claiming their lack of socialization during formative years stunted their ability to distinguish right from wrong.
As a former homeschooled child, that comment stung.
Just because my interactions with others during childhood were limited to my family members and a few friends from my small town doesn’t mean I was itching for a fistfight at any moment. And it certainly didn’t make me an antisocial recluse that people like to think of homeschooled children to be. Even if it had, there is nothing wrong with a quieter, isolated lifestyle.
But this generalization from my classmate wasn’t a one-off experience—blaming the pandemic for all our problems has become a national habit. During quarantine, it was easy to pin all our issues on the virus because we were frightened. It was a time of enormous uncertainty, and we felt as if we had no control over our lives.
However, our continued reliance on the pandemic as a universal scapegoat, as exemplified by my classmate, can be deeply hurtful. This constant finger pointing stigmatizes people who spend most of their time at home for schooling, occupational, or medical reasons. Americans need to take some accountability for their actions rather than shifting blame for minor problems onto a serious global event.
Ironically, I returned to public school after five years of homeschooling the year the pandemic began, but this time, I was even more isolated at home. My first experience of insensitivity was when students dismissed online learning—an essential tool used by many homeschooled families—as a legitimate form of schooling. Even now, many of my college classmates echo this sentiment, stating that it was “pointless” and not “real schooling.”
These critiques overlook the vital role virtual learning plays in the education of many—whether by choice or necessity—by offering accessible, flexible, and affordable education that allows students to balance personal needs and commitments. Despite this, it still presented real challenges for both students and teachers.
Still, a study in the International Journal of Educational Development indicates that these challenges were primarily due to disruptions in routines and the difficulty of adjusting, rather than being inherent to online schooling itself. It’s also important to note that these disruptions were felt most strongly by lower-income students, who tend to have less access to reliable internet, technology, proper learning spaces, and adequate food. At Emerson College, where nearly 65% of students come from the top 20% of the tax bracket, according to the New York Times, and with a cost of attendance of $84,796, it’s possible—even probable—that many of my classmates haven’t encountered these hardships.
Furthermore, most research, including a 2022 study from Harvard University’s Center for Education Policy Research, indicates that virtual learning during the pandemic exposed existing educational inequities, causing motivational challenges that impacted academic performance. Because virtual instruction remained the same as it was for in-person learning, these structural inconsistencies—not virtual learning itself—resulted in poorer test scores. Consequently, students’ motivation becomes a crucial factor for virtual learning success. Instead of placing blame solely on the alleged inefficiency of virtual learning, Americans should consider the gaps in institutional resources and how mental health impacted their grades during the pandemic.
By oversimplifying virtual learning as ineffective, we undermine the legitimacy of the education that many depend on, such as students with chronic health conditions, disabilities, caregiving obligations, work responsibilities, homeschooled children, or those living in remote areas. Not only do these claims misrepresent their circumstances, but they also reinforce harmful stereotypes that their education is inferior.
Just as students are unfairly stigmatized for learning online, those who choose to telecommute—whose numbers remain high since post-pandemic return-to-office mandates—are labeled as “less productive” or not working “real jobs” simply because they work remotely. This stigma often manifests through people who don’t or can’t work remotely, claiming they’re burdened with a heavier workload because of telecommuters—even though a study from the Federal Reserve Bank of San Francisco found that remote work has had little measurable impact on productivity growth or decline across industries.
Some of the main demographics that rely on telecommuting are workers with disabilities, caregivers, and individuals with medical conditions, according to the U.S. Bureau of Labor Statistics. These individuals benefit from the affordability and flexibility that come with not having to commute, allowing them to focus on childcare, attend doctor’s visits, or prioritize their own well-being in ways that in-person work would never allow. Despite this importance, the vital tool used by many is dismissed as illegitimate in the name of the pandemic.
Likewise, many people suggest that the pandemic has made people, especially children, worse at communicating, which was the implication made by my aforementioned classmate. While there were certainly disruptions to social interactions, research from a 2023 study published in the Journal of Paediatrics and Child Health indicates that children in early elementary school experienced these socialization effects the most, as limited in-person interactions and increased screen time led to delayed social and language development.
However, it’s essential to note that this has been an ongoing trend, as discussed by Jonathan Haidt, a social psychologist, in an interview on The New York Times’ The Ezra Klein Show. Haidt suggests that as society becomes increasingly dependent on social media and technology, children have become so socially isolated that they’re “the least flourishing generation we know of ever” in terms of mental health and their ability to build meaningful social connections.
For older children, the effects are more nuanced. While they did experience increased screen time, altered routines, and negative mental health outcomes, a 2025 Gallup study shows that 47% of parents reported the pandemic had no effect on their child’s social development skills, with 23% stating it was no longer an issue, and 22% indicating it was still ongoing. Even those who spend more time at home aren’t inherently antisocial. For example, homeschooled children develop social skills just like other children through sports, clubs, and community activities. In fact, the National Home Education Research Institute reports that “87% of peer-reviewed studies on social, emotional, and psychological development show homeschool students perform statistically significantly better than their conventionally schooled peers.”
Ultimately, the pandemic didn’t make us more aggressive, unproductive, or antisocial. Instead, it simply revealed just how much responsibility for our own issues we are willing to dodge. Acknowledging social inequities and how our actions contribute to post-pandemic problems—rather than stigmatizing others’ lifestyles because they made us feel uncomfortable—will make us more empathetic and less harmful to these individuals.
However, for that to happen, we must take responsibility. Are you willing to start?
