The boredom drives your imagination wild and leaves you thinking of every possible thing that you could be doing instead of sitting in the library.
Unfortunately, you generally forget all of these ideas as soon as the exam season ends, and the summer stretches out before you like a barren wasteland.
Well, that’s not entirely true. Of course you do have to work, but you quickly start wishing the summer was over as soon as it begins.
Though I am in no position to comment on the experiences of others, I do want to talk today about the other side: the windy road of the education system which has failed so many.
My university experience felt more like a cultural right than anything I had ever done to get there. My parents are both university educated and have spoken of their time at university with fond memories.
I had no idea what I wanted to do when I left school but naturally it involved some form of university education, as if my attendance there were a foregone conclusion.
The difference between myself and others is that the thinking I gave into was boundless. I carried the notion that I could do anything with my future.
Although I quickly gave up on having any money when I was younger, the goals my thinking presented me with were practically endless.
The New Zealand education system has presented a reality where the ability to perceive a future for oneself outside of the given reality is limited. Working with children in various jobs I have seen these cycles of thinking in process.
We bemoan the dire state of New Zealand’s education system, but when kids can’t see a use for school for their own future when their thinking is so limited, it’s no surprise that people zone out.
How does one quantify the importance of maths and writing when it’s not placed in the context of a dream? The ability to cultivate a story around oneself gives our actions true meaning.
We rely on societal structure for this more than anything growing up. There’s a reason we wait till 18 until people are released from the boundaries of structure which inform their decision making.
My university experience has not been one wherein I have had lively discussions with people about their degrees (although this has happened with close friends).
Why not? It’s perhaps a consequence of the fact that the university is not best servicing the people who would benefit from it.
Right now, it is the wealthy who go to university, despite so many factors. There is a reason that few are bothered by the gentrification of Castle St: it’s because the people now moving in there appreciate (and can afford) an extra comfort or two.
Maybe this has just been my university experience? There are, of course, people with less privileged backgrounds at the university, many of whom I have met and had great times with, but there’s an overwhelming amount of wealth in the pockets of some students.
We’ve lost sight of what university is for. The sensational research which comes out of many departments is at odds with the learning being produced.
The Otago university undergraduate experience should be about encouraging the young minds of tomorrow, not coddling a class of wealthy (both culturally and monetarily) elites. Fees are obviously a big thing here; I don’t need to speak about the damage that introducing fees did to the standard of university education.
However, that battle has been fought and lost in a time before my own.
What we can change at the university, as has been pointed out to me by a close friend, is the current scholarship system. So many of the problems with disadvantaged students not heading to university are deep-rooted in a kind of cultural and societal distinction (as discussed), but the system can change from the top-down, if only at the pace of a snail.
Currently only two of the nine Otago undergraduate scholarships take into account financial or family circumstances. Getting many of the other scholarships involves playing the game — a game that students with less circumstantial pressure get to play.
In my day, it was common knowledge in the circles of high-school nerds (for lack of a better term) that I frequented that to get an ‘‘academic excellence’’ scholarship, valued at around $40,000, you needed 100 excellence credits at NCEA level 2.
Though I’m sure the criteria have changed, this absurd yarn reflected the kind of gamified reality of getting scholarships in 2021.
It’s becoming increasingly apparent to many people that we need to have a re-think when it comes to education in New Zealand. Schools are currently fighting an immense battle attempting to build a platform for children to dream.
Universities around the country need to reconsider their purpose and make a change, for the benefit of both the less fortunate and their own internal ecosystems which degrade through a lack of diversity.
I don’t regret my university experience, but I lament for those who didn’t have the chance to live it with me.
— Hugh Askerud is a 20-year-old local and student at the University of Otago, majoring in politics and religious studies.
