Something shylockian
Sometimes in this era of commercialised education, in this era when a university degree is a product sold over the counter to those willing to pay, we forget how difficult it can be for some students.
THIS is about a 24-year-old girl who wanted to do a master’s in England with all her heart.
Late in the summer of 2005 she boarded a bus from a town on the edge of Russia, clutching a first-class undergraduate degree, £110 in borrowings, and a handful of English words she had picked up at school. Three days later she arrived in Bournemouth.
Over the next year she got herself a waitressing job and saved pennies. She learnt English.
Last October she visited the Bournemouth University main campus for an open day. Staff there enthusiastically tried to sell her postgraduate enrolments, pointing out the wonderful opportunities BU offered.
She knew which MA she wanted, she told them. But she wouldn’t have the whole course fee -- as she was foreign, it was double what a European Union student paid, £8,000 -- by February. Could she pay half the fees then and the rest six months later?
Oh yes, she was told. BU was always glad to help.
This meant she had to raise nearly £3,000 in the next four months somehow, but she went home happy. She was going to the university finally.
She renegotiated a deal for her matchbox accommodation. Got herself a tougher but better-paying job. Budgeted brutally. Begged extra shifts and killed herself working in the holidays. Borrowed. She also managed to pass the IELTS.
In December she got an unconditional offer from the university. By mid-January she had the money. She got together her certificates and application and went to enroll -- and was told she would need to pay the rest of her fees not six months into the course, but a month later.
Sorry, they said. And now that you mention you don't have enough money, we are not sure we can offer you this seat. We need to think about it.
She spent four days agonising as they thought. Then she was called for a second interview.
She said she had been assured on two separate occasions -- explicitly -- that she could pay her second half of the fees after summer. She pointed out the first installment was a fortune to her -- enough to buy a small house back home -- and she could not afford to lose it, so she would definitely, definitely not run away.
I earn £620 a month, she said, and I live on £300, so I save £320. That and the extra money I earn during the summer holidays will add up. Please don't withdraw the offer.
Can't wait six months, they said. But maybe we can treat you as a special case. You pay the first £4,000 now, then make monthly payments towards the other half. You say you save £320? Excellent, if you sign an undertaking to pay that every month till October, and £1,400 in August -- you said you would earn more in the holidays, didn’t you, and you might be able to borrow some money? -- then we can let you enroll. We don’t normally do this for anyone, mind.
She signed on the dotted line.
That week she put in an application for an international student scholarship. By the time her course started, she got a response: she had been awarded £1,000 in fee-waiver.
That was a big relief. And now that her ‘debt’ was reduced, perhaps they would adjust her monthly payments proportionately? She wrote in with a request: £50 less -- £270 per month instead of £320 -- would make all the difference to her, she said, and the university would still get its money by October as agreed.
Sorry, they said. Now that your situation has improved, we would like you to finish paying early. The original installment had stretched us well beyond what’s acceptable, so we will stick to it.
Two months have passed, with two touch-and-go payments. In the meantime, her first piece of course work -- in a language alien to her just two years ago -- was graded a first class and presented to her peers as a model essay. She’s pleased, she said, but very tense when it rains and her shifts are cancelled (she works at a restaurant on the beach) and customers leave miserly tips. What if she doesn’t make enough to cover payment? They were about to send her away once because she didn’t have the full amount.
It’s more worrying now than ever before, she said. When I came here, I didn’t have anything to lose. Now I do.
Sometimes in this era of commercialised education, in this era when a university degree is a product sold over the counter to those willing to pay, we forget how difficult it can be for someone like this girl.
We forget there’s something shylockian about squeezing the last drop of blood out of someone.
Sad.
THIS is about a 24-year-old girl who wanted to do a master’s in England with all her heart.
Late in the summer of 2005 she boarded a bus from a town on the edge of Russia, clutching a first-class undergraduate degree, £110 in borrowings, and a handful of English words she had picked up at school. Three days later she arrived in Bournemouth.
Over the next year she got herself a waitressing job and saved pennies. She learnt English.
Last October she visited the Bournemouth University main campus for an open day. Staff there enthusiastically tried to sell her postgraduate enrolments, pointing out the wonderful opportunities BU offered.
She knew which MA she wanted, she told them. But she wouldn’t have the whole course fee -- as she was foreign, it was double what a European Union student paid, £8,000 -- by February. Could she pay half the fees then and the rest six months later?
Oh yes, she was told. BU was always glad to help.
This meant she had to raise nearly £3,000 in the next four months somehow, but she went home happy. She was going to the university finally.
She renegotiated a deal for her matchbox accommodation. Got herself a tougher but better-paying job. Budgeted brutally. Begged extra shifts and killed herself working in the holidays. Borrowed. She also managed to pass the IELTS.
In December she got an unconditional offer from the university. By mid-January she had the money. She got together her certificates and application and went to enroll -- and was told she would need to pay the rest of her fees not six months into the course, but a month later.
Sorry, they said. And now that you mention you don't have enough money, we are not sure we can offer you this seat. We need to think about it.
She spent four days agonising as they thought. Then she was called for a second interview.
She said she had been assured on two separate occasions -- explicitly -- that she could pay her second half of the fees after summer. She pointed out the first installment was a fortune to her -- enough to buy a small house back home -- and she could not afford to lose it, so she would definitely, definitely not run away.
I earn £620 a month, she said, and I live on £300, so I save £320. That and the extra money I earn during the summer holidays will add up. Please don't withdraw the offer.
Can't wait six months, they said. But maybe we can treat you as a special case. You pay the first £4,000 now, then make monthly payments towards the other half. You say you save £320? Excellent, if you sign an undertaking to pay that every month till October, and £1,400 in August -- you said you would earn more in the holidays, didn’t you, and you might be able to borrow some money? -- then we can let you enroll. We don’t normally do this for anyone, mind.
She signed on the dotted line.
That week she put in an application for an international student scholarship. By the time her course started, she got a response: she had been awarded £1,000 in fee-waiver.
That was a big relief. And now that her ‘debt’ was reduced, perhaps they would adjust her monthly payments proportionately? She wrote in with a request: £50 less -- £270 per month instead of £320 -- would make all the difference to her, she said, and the university would still get its money by October as agreed.
Sorry, they said. Now that your situation has improved, we would like you to finish paying early. The original installment had stretched us well beyond what’s acceptable, so we will stick to it.
Two months have passed, with two touch-and-go payments. In the meantime, her first piece of course work -- in a language alien to her just two years ago -- was graded a first class and presented to her peers as a model essay. She’s pleased, she said, but very tense when it rains and her shifts are cancelled (she works at a restaurant on the beach) and customers leave miserly tips. What if she doesn’t make enough to cover payment? They were about to send her away once because she didn’t have the full amount.
It’s more worrying now than ever before, she said. When I came here, I didn’t have anything to lose. Now I do.
Sometimes in this era of commercialised education, in this era when a university degree is a product sold over the counter to those willing to pay, we forget how difficult it can be for someone like this girl.
We forget there’s something shylockian about squeezing the last drop of blood out of someone.
Sad.
Labels: bournemouth university, ethics, higher education, MA
posted by Chindu at 1:11 AM
13 Comments:
Sad, yes. But I feel like squeezing the girl's ears. Brilliant, hardworking, even courageous. And why is she putting up with this? Why does she allow herself to be so blackmailed? Sad. Truly sad.
I always had something against England. Thanks for putting a finger to it.
Hi,
This is an amazing story. Do congratulate the kid when you meet her next.
Tell her that there is another way at looking at this story.
Back in the 80s I came to Bombay from Kolkata and had a similar and awful life but the ordeal made me tougher and a better man that I could possibly be otherwise.
Living on a budget of Rs 5 a day - all meals and bus fare- and studying for a BA exam in the crowded trains of Bombay with a 12hours a day-6 days a week full time job- was not fun. But it allowed me to focus on my goals and learn to live with all the humiliations of not having so many simple things - like an ice cream after dinner. However it gave me one big advantage I was locked on my goal because I had nothing else. Without the goal/ dream I was nothing.
I can understand what she is going thru. Do tell her the she will enjoy her journey once she is able to look back.
AND I am confident that she will succeed.
Thanks for the story.
Aninda Shome
An excellent story, raising awareness about an important issue. Educational institutions, even when well-intentioned, can wind up undermining the spirit of learning through an insistence on administrative procedures (which are not informed by educational imperatives anyway). The article also underscores the need for keeping the sphere of academic learning relatively autonomous from considerations of profit. Of course universities need to be financially in good shape but at the same time universities need to be flexible in how the require students to meet their financial obligations. An educational institution cannot and should not be a "customer service provider" nor should it ever be run solely on a business model.
Hats off to the student for persevering under such trying conditions, and I hope her situation is worked out soon.
Best
Rohit Chopra
Assistant Professor of Media Studies
Babson College
Massachusetts, USA
Colleges have long become commercial institutions, getting students not just to cover the cost and expenses but also to fund the college well into the future.
While Stanford and other well-funded universities have been shamed and/or cajoled into helping out poorer students, the vast majority of them - possibly managed more by leaders in trade than academics - will continue to milk the students.
Until such time there can be open universities - something on the lines of the open-source movement - complaining alone is meaningless.
Perhaps this story - and others like it - can be used to drive a movement that can ensure that education isn't only about making money.
I hope the university takes some steps to help this student and others like her out. I expect everything isn't wholly commercial in England.
The university might do well to hold back the hounds till the student has the capacity to pay off the loans. In the long run, the university is more likely to have a larger pool of students, not all of them rich, to choose from.
Better students and higher standards could perhaps help the administration raise fees in the long run, too. A win-win situation, I'd think.
I am feeling uneasy reading this piece. I wish i had money to send her. She deserves the best.
University should take care of such hardworking woman.Sad she is struggling.
I wish everyday she gets tips to raise her level of savings.
Very often, in our driven lives, what we lose sight of is a little compassion, a little humanity, a little caring for the others. When this little amount is multiplied by the sheer number of people forgetting this basic requisite, the world becomes the monster we think it is, little realizing that each one of us has, willy-nilly, contributed to this ogre in our own little ways.
Many thanks for a truly wonderful and equally maddening story. May the bureaucrats all suffer a god awful case of boils on there backsides. Education was a means to an end for some students, now it has become degraded, debased and jaded by the mandarins. Good luck with your work!
Mark P.
Scary and is it any surprise so many students today end up in the sex industry with so many financial pressures on them as recent BBC programmes have (rather salaciously) shown. It is sickening that a 'Labour' government was responsible for ending the right to a free education for British students and has made universities into academic cattle markets.
The majority do not believe education should be free, and I agree, but there is something morally reprehensible about making education difficult to attain. It is a right, a basic human right, and while we agree it should be paid for at higher levels, the payments should be humanely structured - at the very least. Now we understand why some people may have a hard time giving back liberally to society the benefits of education they have paid for, dearly; and i am not just talking about doctors and consultants!
This student has really persevered and as a result has done well. My thought is that education has to be paid for and I think its true to say that fees from International Students have been a revenue stream for Universities (all around the world including USA, Australia and the UK) for years. This doesn't make it fair but students need to be realistic about fees. Actually the tables are turning slightly as universities in the Far East and in other European countries - especially Holland and Germany but also the Baltic States are entering the market for International Students and teaching in the medium of English. In the end though education won't make you - its what you do with it that counts. Having an MA may seem like a good idea but there are plenty who don't have one who do well in life!
Hi,
I was reading ur blog posts and found some of them to be very good.. u write well.. Why don't you popularize it more.. ur posts on ur blog ‘The Accidental Academic’ and others took my particular attention as some of them are interesting topics of mine too;
BTW I help out some ex-IIMA guys who with another batch mate run www.rambhai.com where you can post links to your most loved blog-posts. Rambhai was the chaiwala at IIMA and it is a site where users can themselves share links to blog posts etc and other can find and vote on them. The best make it to the homepage!
This way you can reach out to rambhai readers some of whom could become your ardent fans.. who knows.. :)
Cheers,
Thank a lot good post! Free Iphone 5 Free Iphone 5
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