By Esra Rakab, Contributor
“University is a learning experience, it’s okay to fail.”
These words that are intended to comfort me echo through my mind at every instance of academic hardship. University is often advertised as a place for learning and self-discovery, but this narrative often only applies to privileged, higher-income students. As an immigrant student from a low-income background and challenges with mental health, I’ve always been perplexed as to how this wasn’t just a privileged oversimplification of the emotional, physical, and financial burdens that often accompany enrollment in university for students of lower income. After all, when students who are well-off fail courses or decide to pursue additional years of education, their families can often support that decision financially. On the contrary, a student struggling similarly with their education would not have that support to fall back on. With little support, low-income students must navigate an education system designed for students without such pressures and financial difficulties, and are thrown into a cycle where there is seemingly no escape.
Even with the Ontario Student Assistance Plan, numerous low-income families struggle to meet the yearly cost of university to invest in their future. OSAP is unforgiving of students who, often for valid reason, fall below their academic standing requirements. OSAP-assisted students often face familial, personal or financial challenges, which can manifest as academic hardship, since students lose the capacity or time to devote to their studies. Rather than supporting students in such extenuating circumstances, the institution punishes them through academic probation and OSAP reductions or cuts. What implication does this have on the well-being of low-income students, who are pressured to excel in university and graduate as soon as possible, only to be thrown into an increasingly competitive job market? While their debt accumulates and while finding employment post-undergraduate becomes increasingly difficult, the pressure to graduate quickly heightens.
As much as I desperately want to advocate that it’s okay to fail and learn from our mistakes, I have experienced whirlwinds of anxiety in thinking that my mental health might set me back a year to prolong my education or increase my loans and costs.
As a result, any effort to keep my grades sufficiently “competitive” came at the cost of my well-being. Despite this, I could not succumb to the exhaustion and anxiety because the consequences of performing poorly in school would be too great to bear. Institutionally, we are thrown into a cycle where we fall thousands of dollars in debt in hopes of finding a job, yet our education may become jeopardized while we try to stay afloat. Low-income students often also work part-time to help pay fees, but the time commitment comes at the cost of their education; students are locked into positions where their ability to meet standards of academic performance is hindered. Paradoxically, we may come out of university even more financially burdened than when we started, and must find a way out. This is a challenge that higher income students usually do not have to consider seriously, often allowing many of them to enjoy and excel in their education with little financial burden.
I cannot advocate that our grades don’t define us without acknowledging my hypocrisy when I criticize myself for falling short. We’re given little guidance on what to do with failure and how to succeed despite it; The only students who share their marks are “straight A” students; the only students who share their work experience share what positions accepted them, rather than what rejected them. The perspective skews towards one of communal success, while students who are struggling are left on the sidelines.
While individuals can seek support services, like by taking loans or seeking therapy (which is also paradoxically expensive), the solution needs to target the system. Changes in the university structure, financial aid, student support and a greater focus on permitting work-life balance may provide us with stepping stones, but these inherent inequities that lead to disparities in students’ well-being and success need to be addressed by institutions, the Ontario Student Assistance Plan and students benefiting from this systemic privilege.
I’m sick of falling prey to this system. For once, I want to be able to say, “It’s okay if we fail, we can learn from this,” and truly, genuinely mean it.
Disclaimer: This piece was written prior to the changes made on Jan. 17 by the Ford provincial government regarding tuition for postsecondary education. Changes to the Ontario Student Assistance Program include increasing the length of time students must have graduated high school to qualify as an independent student from four to six years, removal of the grace period for repayment of loans upon graduation, and removal of many grants for lower-income students. Read the provincial government's statement here: https://news.ontario.ca/maesd/en/2019/01/affordability-of-postsecondary-education-in-ontario.html
The Ontario Student Assistance Program, a financial aid program offered through the provincial government, has helped many Ontario students get through university. OSAP offers funding through grants and student loans, and can be used to help offset the cost of tuition and school-related expenses.
Almost all Ontario residents may apply for OSAP but the amount of aid offered to each individual is dependent on the individual’s education expenses, course load, and personal financial situation. This last factor essentially boils down to your family’s income. If your family makes enough money deemed by the government to sufficiently cover educational expenses, then this renders you ineligible to collect OSAP.
While this appears to favour students from low-income households, as it should, it neglects the possibility of students from high-income households where parents do not or cannot pay for tuition. There are many reasons why this occurs ranging from the parents’ genuine inability to allocate funds for their children’s education to refusing on the grounds of principle. Though these students truly demonstrate financial need, their concerns often go unrecognized.
As these students are not able to collect OSAP, they typically have to work several part-time jobs to pay for tuition, or try their luck at applying for private loans that do not carry the benefits of student loans like interest relief during schooling and grace periods after graduation.
As of now, the only way to receive OSAP if you are from a high-income family is to be considered an independent student with an income below what the government deems as excessive or to declare a family breakdown. To be considered an independent student, one must meet several criteria. For example, both your parents must be deceased, you’ve worked full-time for at least 24 months in a row, or you’ve been out of high school for four or more years.
These provisions show the assumption of the provincial government that parents will support their children for four years of postsecondary education. This often false assumption also has no rational grounds; why the decision for a seemingly arbitrary four years? What occurs only after four years from high school that makes someone financially independent?
The alternative, to declare a family breakdown, is also insufficient. To declare a family breakdown renders you an independent student but you must show proof of estrangement from your parents “due to documented mental, physical, sexual, and/or emotional abuse or drug or alcohol addiction in your family”. This provision is too narrowed and does not reflect the many other reasons that parents may be unwilling or unable to support their children’s postsecondary education expenses. Your parents could very well be supporting you, just not financially.
Rather than requiring students to jump through hoops to receive aid, there should be an honour system for students applying for OSAP. If students claim that they are financially independent from their parents, they should be believed at face-value. Perhaps the stipulation can be a restriction for these applicants to receive student loans only, so that grants can be reserved for students from lower-income families.
There will undoubtedly be individuals that misuse such an honour system. But is the potential for misuse strong enough cause to warrant not supporting individuals who could legitimately benefit from such an option? That’s subject to debate.
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