Dear Slate,
I hope this letter finds you well – actually, no. I hope this letter finds you exactly the way you find us: confused, exhausted and clicking the same button 14 times hoping something – anything – will load.
You were introduced to University of California, Riverside (UCR) as our shiny new “streamlined advising experience.” Adorable. Precious. Because logging into you feels less like scheduling an appointment and more like being dropped into an escape room where none of the clues help and the prize is a 15 minute appointment at 8:30 a.m. on a Tuesday. If we’re lucky. And honestly, at this point, luck feels like a resource more scarce than parking spots on campus.
First, I log in. Or try to. The login screen alone loads with the speed and confidence of the campus wifi, and by the time it finally opens, I’ve already questioned my major, my future and my will to live.
But once I’m in? Oh Slate. You truly shine. With more tabs than a dining hall soda machine, you present me with a labyrinth so complex it should count for upper-division elective credit. I click “schedule appointment.”
You: “Are you sure”
Me: “Yes”
You: “Are you really sure?”
Me: “Yes again.”
You: “Error: Something went wrong.”
Something always manages to go wrong. Honestly, I’ve seen group chats run more efficiently than you – and some of those have about 67 people in them, three of whom are always arguing about something irrelevant.
Meanwhile advisors say that you’re “so much easier on their end,” which is basically like being told that the fire alarm isn’t loud when you are standing across the street. Great! Fantastic! While I’m over here decoding appointment categories like ancient scripture. What does “General Inquiry” even mean? Do I click that when I want to change my major or when there is a schedule issue or when I’m having an existential crisis?
After 10 minutes of aimless clicking, like I’m trying to unlock a secret level, you finally reward me with a single available appointment … two weeks from now … at 7:45 a.m. … on Zoom … for exactly 15 minutes … with the wrong advisor. A gift, truly.
And then there are your emails. My god. You love sending emails the way UCR loves constructing a new building every six months. Did something update? No. Did anything change? Also no. Did you feel lonely and want attention? Absolutely. Your subject lines carry the emotional energy of a clingy ex texting “hey” at 2 a.m.
At this point UCR students have developed a sense of community trauma around appointment scheduling. Some of us miss the old web forms, which says a lot because those were held together by the digital equivalent of duct tape and prayer. But at least they didn’t gaslight us with “oops – unexpected error” at the exact moment we finally found a time slot that fit between work, class and attempting to have a life.
To be fair though, you have potential. You’re clean, you’re official, you’re central. You could one day evolve into the advising platform we deserve. But right now? Right now, it feels like a group project where only the interface showed up and the functionality did not.
So here it is, our official hate mail to you, Slate. Not because we fear organization. Not because we enjoy chaos. But because all we want – all we beg for, is to be able to talk to an advisor without needing to mentally prepare for it like it’s a competitive sport.
Until then, Slate, please recover soon. We believe in you. Kind of.
Sincerely,
Naysha Agarwal
Contributing Writer
