Peer Mentor “Thrilled” for Group Meeting, Spends 45 Minutes on a Lonely Zoom Call

In a display of boundless yet ultimately misplaced optimism, second-year Francisco Doe was reportedly “elated” for his first-ever peer mentorship group meeting. The Zoom call, titled “UChicago First-Years: Let’s Get This Bread!!!,” was scheduled for 7:00 PM on a Tuesday. By 7:48 PM, Francisco was still the only participant.

“It’s great!” Francisco said with a forced cheerfulness that belied the growing hollowness in his eyes. “I’m just giving everyone some time to log on. UChicago students, always with a last-minute reading, or, you know, just an existential crisis to get through.”

Francisco had spent the better part of his afternoon preparing for the session. He had a slideshow with meticulously crafted slides, including “Navigating the Core: A Survival Guide” and “Where to Get the Best Late-Night Food That Isn’t Reynolds.” He even had a backup Kahoot! game ready, a quiz he’d spent hours on, titled “UChicago: Fact or Fiction?”

The peer mentorship program is designed to ease the transition for incoming students, a task Francisco had taken to with a passion that bordered on evangelism. He had sent three separate emails to his twelve assigned mentees, each one more enthusiastic than the last. His most recent email, sent just an hour before the meeting, included a GIF of a happy dancing dog and twenty exclamation marks.

“I think I’ll give them a few more minutes,” Francisco murmured to the empty screen. He took a sip of lukewarm coffee and practiced once more his opening line, “Hey everyone, so glad you could make it!” He tried it again, this time with a broader smile, but the echo of his own voice in the silence of his childhood bedroom was more than a little dispiriting.

By 8:00 PM, Francisco had gone through all of his slides, talked to himself about the merits of different dining hall pasta sauces, and even played the Kahoot! game alone, getting the first place medal.

As he finally hit the ‘End Meeting’ button, Francisco’s last transmission was a single, dejected sigh. The only response was the sound of a notification from his email. It was a message from the program coordinator, reminding him to log the attendance for the meeting.