I only meant to visit the party for a minute.
Then, everything was blurry. In the distance I heard faint whispers: “hospital,” “work,” “overdose.” The lights in the emergency room were too bright; if I opened my eyes they would blind me, or worse yet, I would see the judgmental stares of all the patients who were actually sick. I couldn’t stand-up; the tiles of the floor were
cold against my face. Everything went black.
I woke up in a white room, attached to monitors and beeping machines. A drug overdose was not how I intended to begin my 20s. Ten days later I was on a plane. The party chapter of my life in Newfoundland was finally closed.
People always told me that, “University will be the best years of your life.” I figured it was worth a shot.
In the past six years I have worked over 12 jobs from cleaning toilets to retail management, lived in 10 different apartments and had months where I was concerned about where I would get my next meal. I’ve spent over half of it not owning a bed and countless nights wondering if I should just give up. And no, those are not the years of my life where I was dealing and addicted to drugs. This is my university life.
I was having the time of my life, until people who loved me rightfully told me to make something of myself . “Go to university,” they said. “It will be fun,” they said.
Well six years, 65 pounds and $65,000 in debt later, I’m still waiting for the fun to begin.
…
I came to St. Thomas with high hopes of the university experience movies are made of. After tuition was paid, the remainder of my loan wouldn’t even cover textbooks. I realized I was going to have to get a job. Working full-time while attending university didn’t leave much room for meeting friends or joining societies. Life was tough, but I wasn’t the only one facing this problem.
Working at iRock made that clear to me. During my first years there, we always had huge lines of students waiting to get in. We had four girls working coat check each night, and we always left with about $100 in tips. As my time there came to an end, the lines dwindled and we started working one at a time. Some nights I left with only $15 in tips. As iRock’s student rep I was constantly handing out free admission and asking questions on campus. I heard time and time again that people just couldn’t afford to go out. They had to work multiple jobs because their loans barely covered their school necessities.
With STU tuition increasing 29 per cent since 2010, it’s easy to see why students are struggling. Fourth-year student Karen Love is one of many students who are having difficulty balancing her studies, social life and finances.
“You work 50-plus hours a week all summer to pay for tuition,” said Love. “It takes you at least two months to catch up from the previous year’s expenses. In order to save money on top of your monthly [expenditures], you have to cut back on extra-curricular activities. You can’t have a life.”
This issue is all too familiar to me. With such an influx of students coming to Fredericton each fall, part-time jobs that offer more than 10 hours a week are hard to come by. I took on jobs at a local club (iRock) and a retail location to get enough hours to survive. To work in retail you need to wear clothes from that store, that are in season. I had to get a third job to afford working at my second job. Shelly McLean, a student in the faculty of education at STU, also had to find employment on top of her loans to stay in school.
“I come from a really poor household and I am the first person to ever go to university in my family,” said McLean. “In order to get scholarships from my school, I had to go straight into a postsecondary institution in the fall. So I moved to Fredericton and came to St. Thomas. I lost my entrance scholarship after first semester because I had
to have a job in order to support myself while in school.”
McLean attributes this necessity as the reason she couldn’t focus on school the way she had hoped.
“I have lived here for four and a half years and I am over $60,000 in debt. I feel like my ability to do well in school was compromised by my financial situation due to needing employment.”
McLean now feels that she may be in a post-bachelor of arts program she isn’t even sure she still wants.
“I can’t justify doing anything else because I simply can’t afford it. I went to university right out of high school, not really knowing what I wanted to do. Now I am forced to stick with my original plan because I can’t afford to do anything else.”
•••
This year I chose to start living. I wanted to focus on school and friends during my final year at STU, so I took out a student line of credit and cut back to one part-time job. I started spending time with people outside of my work circle, joined a sorority, moved in with my boyfriend and started attending local events. It turns out university CAN be fun. If only enjoying yourself didn’t mean acquiring so much debt.
I am glad I got away. The last thing I want to do is promote drug use and the party lifestyle. I’m proud of who I have become and what I have accomplished here. I love St. Thomas and the education I am receiving. Yet sometimes I wonder why I didn’t just stay in Newfoundland. Tuition at Memorial is almost half the cost. In August
Newfoundland announced it would eliminate student loans altogether and replace them with non-repayable grants. If other provinces can make these changes, why can’t we?
I’m sick of seeing people struggle. I’m tired of watching friends work themselves to the point of exhaustion to pay for the education they are too busy to focus on. I’m sad that, due to tuition spikes, enrolment is dropping and fewer people will be able to enjoy St. Thomas the way I’m starting to. I’m sorry for the parents who feel guilty
that they can’t afford to send their children to school. I’m proud of the students who are working hard to make it through, and I’m hopeful that someday others won’t have to.
But make no mistake, the struggle is real.
