Author’s Note: I intended this to be a condemning piece, but took extreme caution in leaving the name of the institution out (though I understand it’s easy to infer, and I also take no caution in disturbing the inference). It was never intended to be a slur-piece, a whip lashed at a school that wronged me. It is written genuinely and as two-sided as possible. I hold every hope for readership, and I think there’s a lot of merit to discussions that could ensue as a result of this piece.
* To TUMBLR - please share or reblog with whoever is a hobbyist sociological reader. I appreciate the feedback and want the story to reach many different opinions and countries!
<3 Sarah Mathews, 2012
———————-
A wise friend answered my incessant pleas for a lifeline with three simple questions, worded ever so carefully as to not only endorse activism, but also take a sound step into neutral ground between her friend and her home. It is difficult to fight something bigger than yourself, actually comprised of over 9,000 students and hundreds of adults, educated and unwilling to back down from the opinions of a wily 19-year-old girl. Becoming a liability is a scenario you don’t choose for yourself. It leaves the world of textbook-answers and black and white print, and skirts the world of grey area people take so much caution to avoid in their everyday lives, in effort to keep to the morays and familiarity of “regular”: the normal procedures, the daily routine.
What happens when you’re the irregular piece?
Schools are built on a premise of building communities while building your intellect, a place to harvest your mind and your soul. The tight-knit community of the university I chose in the end was far different than the busy hallways and the big cities I dreamed of and visited often in high school, replaced with smaller environments and friendly, tight-knit individuals. It makes for a welcoming atmosphere, a good field to harvest your mind and soul (your crops, if you will).
My university did not have room for irregular pieces.
The tight-knit community welcomed no room for change, asked for no feedback concerning their service to its kind, and condemned those who didn’t fit the mould. The tranquil lakes and family-atmosphere disintegrated before my eyes, revealing a place of power struggles, inner imbalance, and resistance. Those who couldn’t keep their heads above water (or became too prominent in rough waters, noted in the February fall of the Student President) were banished to obscurity, thrown into a broken boat and left without a paddle in the mists of the lake, beyond the sight of those with rafts. And this brings me to the frantic conversation with my friend, the consequences of being the liability, and leading up to the question waiting to be asked: what if it happened before?
But What if it Hasn’t?
No one chooses their school based on bad reviews. A lot of it (at least in my community) laid on their reputation, and how much money they were going to give you to select their institution. Ontario is extremely competitive, with over 50 active universities bidding for students every year. I was extremely fortunate, graduating with an average high enough to garner the attention of multiple universities. I never intended to choose the small community on the lake, set instead on a big-name school in the city. When the university I chose offered over ten thousand dollars and residence fees waived for my acceptance, I packed my bags.
I imagine this is how universities garner most of their high-scorers. But amidst the academics who tried a little too hard in high school is the big-ticket audience: the mid-range applicants. Careful consideration goes into each university, each residence inspected and campus analyzed before a decision is made as to which institution they will call home. It is unquestionable what draws people to my school: a small community, a mesmerizing campus, a well-equipped residence. Open Houses bring out the best in the staff, creating a warm and welcoming atmosphere to the students they hope to rally for the next year, ever-expanding a small school to a more formidable size. Many of these candidates go on to love residence, love their courses and faculty and return to not only complete degrees, but return for studies at the graduate level.
It’s therefore easy to make the argument that the university has never turned their backs on a student before - completely dedicated to their success and growth while staying at their institution. It is not only in the best interest of the student’s good health, but the university itself. Reputation and enrollment are huge factors in funding - the better these statistics are, the more money in your pockets, both from Ontario funding and the students themselves. It is hard to imagine the day a university would actively disengage in the welfare of a student, for it would be the beginning of their own fall.
But What if it Has?
I can recognize my case is an anomaly. No student or university predicts the demise of their own students and friends, and the free-fall that follows. January shook my academic community with the deaths of three enrolled students, and realized many of my worst nightmares: one a close friend, another my best; my first-year room mate.
It was reported a death during study period hadn’t happened in my university family in over 14 years, and under the relatively new management, it could be certain that dealing with the scenario would be much like playing chess blindfolded. Services immediately became available, including counselling and crisis teams, all the stops were pulled out academically as teachers immediately extended their coursework and forgave perhaps ‘forgetful’ students missing lecture. I was immediately pulled from lectures and pushed into counselling sessions and doctor’s appointments, as everyone awaited what would come of the storm.
Is this enough?
Was the university neglectful in service (a reputation gaining popularity), offering overly temporary solutions to long-term problems? I was assigned a counsellor who openly confided she didn’t believe much of what I said, given crisis workers who “weren’t sure how to respond”, in their words, and academic leaves that only caused more pressure when returning to class with double the workload, as the semester was drawing to a close. My Residence Advisor was quick to battle with me, going so far as to leave me out of the school’s memorial plans, and willing to apologize for nothing as I frequently (and known to residence staff) became the one to blame for the aftermath. When I crumbled and cut my wrists one February night, I was quickly thrown from residence and unable to complete my year: effectively creating the broken boat, with no paddle, scenario.
What are Your Options, Then?
This is where the questions become difficult. You can prove your university is more than accommodating in your arrival, but as time goes on, the picture you painted of your university on the lake begins to blur. Staff becomes a little less helpful, Residence Advisors become less exemplary and more human. In selecting a tight-knit community, you also select everyone to know your tales - similar to choosing a small town over a big city.
The argument can be made both ways in the ‘boat, but no paddle’ scenario happening willingly at your school. It was advertised to me that many levels of internal government could assist you in all your mental and academic needs, but when I was appealing to residence, senior residence, the President himself - they could not be found. They could be busy, or unwilling to sink their teeth into a largely grey-area scenario, a scenario no one asked to be indulged in to start with, everyone garnering their own reasons why it’s left to black-and-white print. It could be argued the university willingly ignores the incident, the metaphorical blood came off their hands as soon as the student is removed, and moves on. This is still seen as recently as yesterday, as I e-mail and phone multiple staff members for answers to tie-ending questions and hear nothing at all. I am gone with the wind, I am a closed case, I am something the university would like to forget.
It was after this that the troubling question arose, as I asked my friend: what if it happened before?
Tomorrow is May 2nd, the day the battle of Hogwarts 14 years ago. The day that Harry, Ron and Hermione snuck back into Hogwarts and destroyed the Horcruxes. The day that Harry finally defeated Voldemort. We remember everyone who fought in the war and all those who died. Fred Weasley, Nymphadora Tonks, Remus Lupin, Colin Creevey, Severus Snape and more. May we raise our wands to those who fought and died. Remember, remember May 2nd 1998.
