Higher learning, life-long friends and keg stands are the dreams of every first year university student as they venture into a new and exciting world.
There is one thing those university recruiters left out in their flashy presentations to high school students though…the extensive cost of this dream.
I’ve wanted to be a university student for as long as I can remember. Listening to my parents exciting and sometimes hysterical stories of breakfast at the Ardmore, late night runs to the kitchen at King’s and drinking beer back when the Midtown didn’t have washrooms for women sounded like the life for me. So for the past five years I have been living that life and can say it does have its moments - but at a price higher then my parents paid.
As one of over 40,000 university students in Nova Scotia I was appalled to hear the provincial Minister of Education, Karen Casey, say that “Sometimes the costs that students incur are real, but sometimes they are a lifestyle that a student has chosen which escalates, and when they come out they come out with a big debt, but it might not be all directly related to their course of study.”
After paying into the Nova Scotia economy for the past five years I was infuriated to hear an elected politician make such a gross and negligent comment without examining the facts.
It is a fact that students in Nova Scotia pay the highest tuition in the country. It is also a fact that Nova Scotia has the lowest per capita funding for post secondary education in the country and that university graduates who stay to work in Nova Scotia can expect to earn 10 per cent less then the national average income.
I can tell you that the price of university has jumped drastically since my first day on campus. It is now almost out of reach.
According to the Canadian Federation of Students, university tuition in Nova Scotia has increased by more then 120 per cent in real dollars since 1990. This explains why this fundamental life experience is becoming an unattainable goal.
A typical university student in Nova Scotia can now expect to pay, on average, $6,571 a year for tuition. This does not cover books, university imposed fees, transportation, housing or food. Including these factors easily brings students yearly costs to somewhere between $10,000 and $15,000.
I, like many others, have worked at typical student jobs, from the call centre to the liquor store, in an attempt to offset the high cost of my studies.
Like many other students, I am also burdened with the fact that student loans were not an option, due to my middle-class standing in society. The “sins” of our parents are passed on to us. The expectation is that if your parents fit into a certain tax bracket they will pay your entire education.
Thankfully, this is slowly changing, but not before the cost of a university degree is more then the majority can afford. I will be one of the lucky ones surviving my university education with a minor debt, but with a minimum wage of $7.15 an hour, it is easy to see why university is being priced out of the reach of many.
I have also heard more horror stories about student loans then I care to repeat. Take my friend, Anna’s story for example, she received $134 towards her $7000 tuition and then was asked to give it back. Or a classmate who received $34, but Canada Student Loans does not honour any loan under $100. So, maybe it wasn’t such a loss for me to have been unqualified for one of these generous loans provided by the government.
According to Statistics Canada, the average Nova Scotian employee with an undergraduate degree will start off earning $37, 872. With more than 20 per cent of Nova Scotia university graduates carrying student loan debt in excess of $25,000 (almost double the national average) their debt load will be nearly identical to their income when adding all interest payments.
Take my friend Anna who I just mentioned for instance. Her loans currently stand at $35,000 with interest payments of $200 a month. She still has a year left to finish her undergraduate degree and yet Canada Student Loans wants money back from her. It strikes me that there is something wrong with the system.
You might be asking yourself “why should I care?” “How does this affect Nova Scotia?” Well Nova Scotia has the highest exit rate of freshly educated university students. Once finished their over-priced educations, close to 30 per cent of graduates leave for greener pastures, or oil rich provinces. This means the students we are educating are not hanging around to help Nova Scotia’s economy.
University enrolment is also declining, so Nova Scotia cities and towns like Antigonish and Wolfville that depend greatly on university students for revenue better start looking for new customers.
All this discussion of student debt though brings me back to a speech that John Ralston Saul gave during a graduation ceremony at Saint Francis Xavier University that I attended.
Saul said, “An undergraduate degree today has roughly the social and economic value of high school graduation in 1900.” He added, “I don't say this to depress you. It is a simple reality. And a further reminder of why high undergraduate tuition is an error.”
Saul continued on to say, “There is no sophisticated payoff for society or for the universities or for the economy or for the graduates if we send you off into your careers with a $25,000 to $60,000 debt…This is bad economics. The logical and just progression of Canadian public education would be towards lower or free tuition at the undergraduate level.”
I remember sitting in the audience and listening to one of Canada’s brightest articulate these fascinating thoughts. I looked around the room and every eye was on him. He was saying something so simple and true. Most parents and special guests had never heard it put so simply before. University costs too much. Students are not getting what they are paying for and the Nova Scotia economy is not getting what it could out of our graduates.
Thus, this is not just a university student problem. This is a major economical problem. With more then 70 per cent of high school students naming finances as the reason they will not be pursuing post-secondary education where does that leave the work force?
As Saul says, “this is bad economics.” So some major changes need to be made and I am afraid for Ms. Casey’s sake the changes are a little more serious then skipping spring break.
I will admit that I have taken a couple of vacations here and there throughout my university career. I have spent around $3000 on vacations in my five years in university. However, I have also spent three years in a co-operative education program, where I was required to pay to work and had to move (at my own expense) to Ottawa to get experience.
So I have spent money on minor vacations, which, in my opinion are well deserved considering that my program requires me to be in school or working year-round. And these vacations don’t even come close to the $50,000 that has gone towards tuition and books over the past five years.
As a new university graduate planning to continue my university studies, I have to ask myself: Is it worth staying in Nova Scotia? Should I stay in a province where I will be charged to the max, make the least and criticized by the very individuals who are elected to work for us?
I guess I will see what I can afford to do after graduation.
Friday, April 13, 2007
Thursday, March 22, 2007
A beautiful life ever after
A beautiful life ever after
Dr. Jenny Hicks
Spring Rd.
The phone rings in the darkened corner of a Halifax apartment. A layer of dust an inch thick rests on the phone indicating its lack of use. Finally, the machine picks up the call. Through the silence a women’s raspy voice can be heard, “Jennifer, pick-up, I know you’re there,” a pause. “Ok, well I am heading out with the kids and will try calling you again this afternoon, please try and go outside, it’s beautiful out.”
Dr. Jennifer Hendricks, a 24 year-old prodigy who has already received her medical degree from Harvard and finished her residency in neo-natal oncology sits listening to her sister’s millionth attempt to get her out of her apartment. She is currently not practicing (to her sister’s dismay), because she found an amazing apartment on Spring Garden Road and has not left it for the past 16 months. Directly across from the Public Gardens, she can people watch all day long, so why bother actually going outside she argues.
In Jennifer’s earlier days (i.e. late teens) she was a party-girl, but somewhere along the way of attending Mensa meetings and fast-tracking it through medical school she realized she preferred daily soap operas to interacting daily with real people. Jennifer does not like to acknowledge that it probably has more to do with the love of her life leaving her at the alter, then it does her love of General Hospital.
Tomorrow Jennifer is supposed to do a phone interview for a highly sought after position at Johns Hopkins Hospital. She is still trying to decide whether she can really justify missing whether Sonny Carinthos and Carly are going to get back together for a job.
Many friends and family have tried to persuade Jennifer to join the real world again, to no avail. She claims to be content, a nice Asian man delivers her groceries once a week and thanks to the Internet, she has joined Netflix and can see all of the latest movies. Jennifer tries to avoid the romantic-comedies as best she can but has never been able to turn down a good chick flick. These are the worst days, the days she sits there and thinks about Steve. Where is he now? She wonders. Did he run off and marry that nurse?
Jennifer and Steve had gone to medical school together and fallen in love after six-months of absolutely despising each other…very romantic. They had stayed together through medical school, through residency and it seemed like the logical next step to get married. So in front of 500 of their closest friends and family they planned to say their “I do’s”. Jennifer had felt a little nervous, but when Steve was a half hour late a tight feeling started to develop in her throat. This feeling has not left yet, Jennifer has been to doctor after doctor, all of whom claim there is nothing physically wrong with her.
Jennifer knows it is most likely psychological rather than physical, but is choosing to stay in this beautiful downtown apartment until she feels the need to see someone besides Nikolas Cassadine.
Dr. Jenny Hicks
Spring Rd.
The phone rings in the darkened corner of a Halifax apartment. A layer of dust an inch thick rests on the phone indicating its lack of use. Finally, the machine picks up the call. Through the silence a women’s raspy voice can be heard, “Jennifer, pick-up, I know you’re there,” a pause. “Ok, well I am heading out with the kids and will try calling you again this afternoon, please try and go outside, it’s beautiful out.”
Dr. Jennifer Hendricks, a 24 year-old prodigy who has already received her medical degree from Harvard and finished her residency in neo-natal oncology sits listening to her sister’s millionth attempt to get her out of her apartment. She is currently not practicing (to her sister’s dismay), because she found an amazing apartment on Spring Garden Road and has not left it for the past 16 months. Directly across from the Public Gardens, she can people watch all day long, so why bother actually going outside she argues.
In Jennifer’s earlier days (i.e. late teens) she was a party-girl, but somewhere along the way of attending Mensa meetings and fast-tracking it through medical school she realized she preferred daily soap operas to interacting daily with real people. Jennifer does not like to acknowledge that it probably has more to do with the love of her life leaving her at the alter, then it does her love of General Hospital.
Tomorrow Jennifer is supposed to do a phone interview for a highly sought after position at Johns Hopkins Hospital. She is still trying to decide whether she can really justify missing whether Sonny Carinthos and Carly are going to get back together for a job.
Many friends and family have tried to persuade Jennifer to join the real world again, to no avail. She claims to be content, a nice Asian man delivers her groceries once a week and thanks to the Internet, she has joined Netflix and can see all of the latest movies. Jennifer tries to avoid the romantic-comedies as best she can but has never been able to turn down a good chick flick. These are the worst days, the days she sits there and thinks about Steve. Where is he now? She wonders. Did he run off and marry that nurse?
Jennifer and Steve had gone to medical school together and fallen in love after six-months of absolutely despising each other…very romantic. They had stayed together through medical school, through residency and it seemed like the logical next step to get married. So in front of 500 of their closest friends and family they planned to say their “I do’s”. Jennifer had felt a little nervous, but when Steve was a half hour late a tight feeling started to develop in her throat. This feeling has not left yet, Jennifer has been to doctor after doctor, all of whom claim there is nothing physically wrong with her.
Jennifer knows it is most likely psychological rather than physical, but is choosing to stay in this beautiful downtown apartment until she feels the need to see someone besides Nikolas Cassadine.
Tuesday, February 27, 2007
A truly student experience
As the door blows open, you enter the long hallway; the smell of Febreze lingers in the air. The rap music blaring from the end of the hallway lets you know that the youngest of the roommates is home, or at least was home at some point in the last 12 hours. A mangle of shoes is before you; your first of many obstacles to overcome on your way to experiencing all this apartment has to offer.
As you pass by the first room off of the long stretch of hallway, the sound of the Sopranos can be heard through the crack in the door; an impressive feat, considering that the rap music has not yet been turned off. This room, the largest of the three bedrooms, is reminiscent of a large beer fridge, cold and intended for boys. This is where another of the roommates resides. Strangely enough, it appears to be the tidiest of all…floor space can be deceptive.
The kitchen smacks of a classier crowd then its current inhabitants. A grand fireplace surrounded by a gorgeous white mantle distracts your attention, albeit briefly, from the current state of the floor. Upon entering, you feet detect something sticky and you notice a large, unidentifiable stain on the carpet, reminiscent of one hell of a Super Bowl party. In the corner there is a clearance centre of empty beer bottles, the smell of yeast is almost overwhelming. The shrine to beer consumption sits stoically, awaiting some parental figure to cart them away. The masterpiece of the room, the mantel, is surrounded by a wide assortment of liquor bottles and Christmas lights, just to add some festive spirit. This is by far the best part of the whole apartment.
The bathroom shows faint indications that a female has attempted to make an impact, but the over-growth of whisker shavings around the sink indicate failure. Two electric razors sit idle by the sink, waiting for the next dumping of five o’clock shadows, combated by plush violet towels and scented soaps.
The room at the end of the hallway glows purple. Radioactive materials? Perhaps. But think back farther and you may recall the black light phenomena, a trend that is alive and well in this room. It is a standard boy’s room, heavily scented with cologne and dozens of dirty plates scattered on any flat, (or close to flat) surface available.
The only female room in this apartment leans towards the stereotype. Stuffed to capacity with an inordinate amount of clothes, passage into the room by the owner is difficult, nay impossible and requires a series of acrobatics to launch oneself successfully from the doorway to the bed. It is by far the warmest room in the house and personal touches have been added throughout the room. The room has a sweet perfume smell and the bed is welcoming, with plush comforters, blankets and pillows. It is also the smallest of the three bedrooms, which is why the closet at the end of the hallway houses all of the shoes that would be lost in this mess of a room.
This is a great student apartment. It provides the setting for anecdotes which we will remember fondly as we mature, eventually.
As you pass by the first room off of the long stretch of hallway, the sound of the Sopranos can be heard through the crack in the door; an impressive feat, considering that the rap music has not yet been turned off. This room, the largest of the three bedrooms, is reminiscent of a large beer fridge, cold and intended for boys. This is where another of the roommates resides. Strangely enough, it appears to be the tidiest of all…floor space can be deceptive.
The kitchen smacks of a classier crowd then its current inhabitants. A grand fireplace surrounded by a gorgeous white mantle distracts your attention, albeit briefly, from the current state of the floor. Upon entering, you feet detect something sticky and you notice a large, unidentifiable stain on the carpet, reminiscent of one hell of a Super Bowl party. In the corner there is a clearance centre of empty beer bottles, the smell of yeast is almost overwhelming. The shrine to beer consumption sits stoically, awaiting some parental figure to cart them away. The masterpiece of the room, the mantel, is surrounded by a wide assortment of liquor bottles and Christmas lights, just to add some festive spirit. This is by far the best part of the whole apartment.
The bathroom shows faint indications that a female has attempted to make an impact, but the over-growth of whisker shavings around the sink indicate failure. Two electric razors sit idle by the sink, waiting for the next dumping of five o’clock shadows, combated by plush violet towels and scented soaps.
The room at the end of the hallway glows purple. Radioactive materials? Perhaps. But think back farther and you may recall the black light phenomena, a trend that is alive and well in this room. It is a standard boy’s room, heavily scented with cologne and dozens of dirty plates scattered on any flat, (or close to flat) surface available.
The only female room in this apartment leans towards the stereotype. Stuffed to capacity with an inordinate amount of clothes, passage into the room by the owner is difficult, nay impossible and requires a series of acrobatics to launch oneself successfully from the doorway to the bed. It is by far the warmest room in the house and personal touches have been added throughout the room. The room has a sweet perfume smell and the bed is welcoming, with plush comforters, blankets and pillows. It is also the smallest of the three bedrooms, which is why the closet at the end of the hallway houses all of the shoes that would be lost in this mess of a room.
This is a great student apartment. It provides the setting for anecdotes which we will remember fondly as we mature, eventually.
Thursday, February 8, 2007
My mother's trashy experience
On the first day of university summer break my mother arrived home to Glace Bay, Cape Breton with all of her worldly belongings in tow. Among other things this included her six pairs of jeans that she had carried home in an old, beat-up garbage bag. She decided to save unpacking for later and sat down to relax after a long, hard year of studies. This is the legendary story of my mother and the determination that led her to the dump.
She settled in to have some good homemade food and relaxed for the rest of the day. It was not until the next morning that she decided it might be a good time to unload her belongings when she noticed that her trusty garbage bag was not where she had left it. After scouring the house for twenty-minutes, a sickening feeling started to develop in the pit of her stomach. Had she heard the garbage truck this morning? Would someone have actually thrown away her prized jeans?
A hasty ten minute drive landed her square in the middle of the Glace Bay dump…and in the middle of the search of her life. It was one of the more entertaining days for the garbage men as they gathered to watch this mad women searching through dirty diapers and yesterdays left-overs.
She searched for hours without thinking anything of it. Using addresses on pizza boxes she slowly narrowed her search first to the right area of town and finally the right street. In the heat, with garbage men staring at her and with her mother disapprovingly waiting at home, my mother found that one garbage bag in a heap of thousands. She will tell you today she would do it again in a second. As she often comments jeans were a hot commodity then and unlike today, people did not own a pair of jeans for every occasion.
It was a day that most would never mention again for the rest of their lives. It is a day that I have heard about more often then I care to mention, because this is a story of determination and succeeding when everything is against you.
She settled in to have some good homemade food and relaxed for the rest of the day. It was not until the next morning that she decided it might be a good time to unload her belongings when she noticed that her trusty garbage bag was not where she had left it. After scouring the house for twenty-minutes, a sickening feeling started to develop in the pit of her stomach. Had she heard the garbage truck this morning? Would someone have actually thrown away her prized jeans?
A hasty ten minute drive landed her square in the middle of the Glace Bay dump…and in the middle of the search of her life. It was one of the more entertaining days for the garbage men as they gathered to watch this mad women searching through dirty diapers and yesterdays left-overs.
She searched for hours without thinking anything of it. Using addresses on pizza boxes she slowly narrowed her search first to the right area of town and finally the right street. In the heat, with garbage men staring at her and with her mother disapprovingly waiting at home, my mother found that one garbage bag in a heap of thousands. She will tell you today she would do it again in a second. As she often comments jeans were a hot commodity then and unlike today, people did not own a pair of jeans for every occasion.
It was a day that most would never mention again for the rest of their lives. It is a day that I have heard about more often then I care to mention, because this is a story of determination and succeeding when everything is against you.
Tuesday, January 23, 2007
Lessons I learned from selling used jockstraps
It was a hot, lazy summer afternoon when I received a phone call from my close friend Shayla – calling to ask if I wanted a job. Being sixteen and in need of money, I hurriedly got dressed and headed down to start my career as a saleswoman for Play It Again Sports. Shayla, however, had failed to mention that her boss did not know anything about hiring a new employee and he was a little shocked when he entered the store to an unknown girl selling sporting goods to customers. Luckily for me, he was an easy-going sort of guy and let me stay.
This is the story of my first job and my first experiences in retail. I learned quickly that you had to know everything about every sport (which I did not), so I also learned quickly how to sound like I did. One particular incident stands out in my mind, I was trying to close a sale on a particular pair of rollerblades. The brand was actually called “Rollerblade”, so I (not actually aware that this was incorrect) told the customer that they were the original makers of rollerblades. My co-workers found this hilarious; but, I did get the sale – so I guess it wasn’t so ridiculous.
The clientele who would come in to the store were not always the most savory characters and often added to the entertainment. When you work in a store that buys used jock straps, you have to be prepared to expect anything. It was a great place to hone my negotiating skills and these skills have done me well in other aspects of my life.
This was the best first job I could have had in my opinion. I was friends with everyone who worked there and we would very often play games to pass the time. We would put on all the hockey gear we could and wrestle, (hoping no customers would come in), or run around trying to hit each other with tennis balls. It was extremely entertaining and sometimes dangerous work. It also allowed me the opportunity to really improve my putting, which now comes in handy on the golf course. Of course we did do work and were quite good at what we did, but never forgot that we weren’t dealing with life or death.
I like to think back to how carefree those days of my life were, and going to work was never dull. I think it is really important to think of your colleagues as friends as well as co-workers, otherwise the experience is just not the same. The other hugely important lesson I learned from this whole experience is that it is often the people you know that will get you ahead. If I hadn’t been friends with Shayla, who knows what my first job would have been…dare I say maybe McDonald’s?
This is the story of my first job and my first experiences in retail. I learned quickly that you had to know everything about every sport (which I did not), so I also learned quickly how to sound like I did. One particular incident stands out in my mind, I was trying to close a sale on a particular pair of rollerblades. The brand was actually called “Rollerblade”, so I (not actually aware that this was incorrect) told the customer that they were the original makers of rollerblades. My co-workers found this hilarious; but, I did get the sale – so I guess it wasn’t so ridiculous.
The clientele who would come in to the store were not always the most savory characters and often added to the entertainment. When you work in a store that buys used jock straps, you have to be prepared to expect anything. It was a great place to hone my negotiating skills and these skills have done me well in other aspects of my life.
This was the best first job I could have had in my opinion. I was friends with everyone who worked there and we would very often play games to pass the time. We would put on all the hockey gear we could and wrestle, (hoping no customers would come in), or run around trying to hit each other with tennis balls. It was extremely entertaining and sometimes dangerous work. It also allowed me the opportunity to really improve my putting, which now comes in handy on the golf course. Of course we did do work and were quite good at what we did, but never forgot that we weren’t dealing with life or death.
I like to think back to how carefree those days of my life were, and going to work was never dull. I think it is really important to think of your colleagues as friends as well as co-workers, otherwise the experience is just not the same. The other hugely important lesson I learned from this whole experience is that it is often the people you know that will get you ahead. If I hadn’t been friends with Shayla, who knows what my first job would have been…dare I say maybe McDonald’s?
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