Rio's phased school reopening stumbles amid tech gaps and ENEM anxiety

Students, particularly from public schools, experienced educational disruption and unequal access to learning resources during pandemic closures, affecting exam preparation.
The public school students were the ones who suffered most
A mathematics teacher describing how pandemic closures and platform failures deepened inequality between public and private education.

Em meados de outubro de 2020, as escolas públicas do Rio de Janeiro entreabriram suas portas para os alunos do último ano do ensino médio, mas o retorno revelou muito mais do que havia sido perdido. Falhas nas plataformas digitais, baixa frequência e meses de ensino remoto precário deixaram estudantes vulneráveis diante do Enem, expondo uma fratura antiga entre a educação pública e a privada que a pandemia não criou, mas tornou impossível ignorar.

  • Estudantes chegaram às salas de aula sem saber se haveria aula — e muitos simplesmente não foram.
  • A plataforma de ensino remoto do estado travava, rejeitava logins e tornava o aprendizado uma maratona de tentativas frustradas.
  • Com o Enem marcado para janeiro, jovens como Matheus e Eduardo enfrentavam a prova sem ter recebido instrução real por meses.
  • A professora Sanny Gutemberg nomeou o que os números escondiam: a pandemia aprofundou o abismo entre quem tinha infraestrutura digital e quem não tinha.
  • O estado garantiu que nenhum aluno seria reprovado — uma medida humana, mas que também permitia avançar sem aprender.
  • Das 492 cidades do estado, apenas 16 municípios reabriram escolas, deixando a maioria dos estudantes ainda à deriva do ensino remoto.

Em meados de outubro de 2020, as escolas públicas do Rio de Janeiro reabriram parcialmente — mas apenas para alunos do último ano do ensino médio e da educação de jovens e adultos. Era para ser um recomeço cuidadoso. O que se viu foi uma reabertura marcada pela confusão.

Numa escola do Largo do Machado, na zona sul do Rio, estudantes chegaram sem saber se teriam aula. Muitos carregavam meses de tentativas fracassadas de acessar a plataforma de ensino remoto do estado — telas de login que rejeitavam, sistemas que travavam, sessões que nunca chegavam a começar. Para quem se preparava para o Enem, marcado para janeiro e decisivo para o ingresso na universidade, isso não era apenas frustração: era uma ameaça concreta ao futuro.

Matheus de Feitosa, 18 anos, resumiu o que muitos sentiam: não sabia como faria a prova. Eduardo Vasconcelos, 17, que queria estudar psicologia, descreveu o mesmo ciclo exaustivo de tentativas até conseguir acesso — sem que isso significasse, de fato, ter aprendido algo. A professora de matemática Sanny Gutemberg foi direta: a pandemia escancarou a diferença entre quem tinha infraestrutura digital e quem não tinha. As escolas privadas tinham. As públicas, não.

A reabertura foi fragmentada. Apenas 416 escolas em 16 municípios foram autorizadas a retomar as aulas presenciais. Os demais 76 municípios do estado permaneceram fechados — por restrições sanitárias ou por falta de autorização municipal. Cerca de 63 mil alunos eram elegíveis para voltar, mas muitos simplesmente não apareceram.

O estado ofereceu uma garantia: nenhum aluno da rede pública seria reprovado naquele ano, salvo casos de abandono escolar. Era uma política compreensível diante do caos. Mas também significava que estudantes poderiam avançar sem ter aprendido — e chegar ao Enem sem o alicerce necessário. O retorno às aulas era para marcar uma virada. Em vez disso, revelou a extensão do dano — não apenas ao aprendizado, mas à equidade que a escola pública deveria garantir.

Rio de Janeiro's public schools cracked open their doors in mid-October 2020, but the return was tentative and incomplete. Only students in their final year of high school—or the last cycle of adult education programs—were permitted back inside classrooms. It was meant to be a measured restart after months of pandemic closure. What actually happened was far messier.

At a school in Largo do Machado, in the city's south zone, students arrived uncertain whether they would even have classes. The mood was one of confusion and complaint. Many had spent months trying to access the state's online learning platform and failing. Login screens rejected them repeatedly. When they finally got through, the system crawled. For students preparing for the National High School Exam—scheduled for January and essential for university admission—this was not abstract frustration. It was a concrete threat to their futures.

Matheus de Feitosa, eighteen years old, voiced what many felt: "How am I supposed to take this exam?" He had tried logging in countless times only to hit the same error message. Eduardo Vasconcelos, seventeen, who wanted to study psychology, described the same exhausting cycle—attempt after attempt until, by sheer persistence, access finally granted. Neither student had received meaningful instruction in months. Both were now expected to sit for one of Brazil's most consequential standardized tests.

Sanny Gutemberg, a mathematics teacher at the same school, saw the pattern clearly. The pandemic and the rush to online learning had exposed a chasm between public and private education. Private schools had the infrastructure, the bandwidth, the technical support. Public school students did not. "The platform would get so slow it wouldn't load," she said. "We had very few successful online sessions. The public school students were the ones who suffered most during this pandemic." It was not a failure of effort or will. It was a failure of resources.

The reopening itself was partial and scattered. Only 416 schools across 16 municipalities in Rio state were authorized to resume in-person instruction. The other 76 cities either had not received permission from their mayors or remained under restrictions due to high transmission rates. The state education secretariat estimated that roughly 63,000 students were eligible to return, but no official attendance figures were released. Many who were permitted to come simply did not show up.

Remote learning would continue for everyone else. But there was one guarantee: the state secretary of education signed a resolution declaring that no student in the public system would be held back this year—barring cases of outright abandonment of school. It was a compassionate policy, perhaps necessary given the chaos. But it also meant that students could advance without having learned, could move forward without preparation, could face the national exam without the foundation they needed.

The reopening was supposed to be a turning point. Instead, it revealed how deep the damage had become—not just to learning, but to equity itself. The students who needed schools most were the ones least able to access them, whether online or in person. And the clock was ticking toward January.

How am I supposed to take this exam?
— Matheus de Feitosa, 18-year-old student
The public school students were the ones who suffered most during this pandemic
— Sanny Gutemberg, mathematics teacher
La Conversación del Hearth Otra perspectiva de la historia
Inventor

Why did only the final-year students get to come back? Why not everyone at once?

Model

The thinking was practical—those students had the most immediate pressure. The national exam was coming in January. They needed preparation time. But it also meant everyone else stayed home, which meant the inequality just kept widening.

Inventor

The platform failures—were those technical glitches, or was the system just not built for this kind of load?

Model

Both, probably. But the real issue is that public schools never had the infrastructure private schools took for granted. When you're suddenly asking 63,000 students to log in from home, and half of them don't have reliable internet or devices, the platform becomes almost irrelevant. The problem was never just the software.

Inventor

If students weren't showing up and the platform wasn't working, what were teachers actually supposed to teach?

Model

That's the impossible position they were in. Sanny Gutemberg was trying to teach math to students she couldn't reach, on a system that barely functioned. You can't teach under those conditions. So you don't, really. You just try to keep the door open.

Inventor

And the no-reprobation policy—that sounds generous, but doesn't it just kick the problem down the road?

Model

It does. It means students advance without the knowledge they need. They'll hit university-level work unprepared. The policy was humane in the moment, but it didn't solve anything. It just delayed the reckoning.

Inventor

What happens to these students in January when they take the exam?

Model

They take it scared and underprepared, mostly. The ones from public schools especially. And their scores will probably reflect that. The pandemic didn't just interrupt their education—it fractured it along lines that already existed.

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