A Mature Student's Perspective

I must surely be unique amongst the students here. Before being accepted, I'd never been on the Internet. My University Application form must have looked a lot different from most others too, and I wondered what the admissions officers would think. The last time I had attended full time studies was seventeen years before, when I finished two years of college. I hadn't been in paid work for four years. I was a single mother, with toddlers still at home. I had no money, having split from my former spouse, who had become a different person from the one I married, and who wasn't in a position to provide child support. Fortunately, I'd landed in a safety net which had fallen from the sky, via several levels of government and some quite amazing people working for the various agencies.

The plan was that I would start as a part time student and move to full time after I transitioned into a life of studies. It was time to continue my pursuit of knowledge, something that I'd long wanted to commit myself to. The dreadful last few years were over; what was done was done, and my future was the only thing that I could change.

I was standing in the driveway, holding my daughter, when I opened the letter: ‘We are pleased to offer you ...’. The admissions officer wouldn't have known it but he or she had contributed to ending the vicious cycle of poverty and abuse that I was trying to escape. Of course, the safety net provided by several layers of government played their part as well, but it's the University that's completely altering my life.

I started out wanting to teach ESL abroad perhaps in the Middle East. I fit the demographic: right nationality, right gender, right religion -- muslim. The way to get there also suited me; in Anthropology, you develop cross cultural sensitivity and awareness of practices and policies of different countries as well as the sociocultural origins., Anthro has a Bio-anthro field, an archaeology field and a sociocultural field, the sociocultural being my major now along with Linguistics.

It was exciting and scary to think about the prospects of returning to school. Looking back on some of the things I'd previously done, I felt fortunate to be at a stage in my life where I could enjoy being a parent and find fulfillment at the same time as pursuing studies. To bystanders, I was borderline crazy to even consider going back to school. I began to understand that it was a matter of perspective and if it was the right thing to do, then doors would open to facilitate the journey.

It was important to stay balanced in every aspect of life. Going back to school was a way to regain more intellectual balance, along with the emotional and spiritual. In realizing and recognizing my abilities, the prospect of going back to school was no longer scary. Staying in my current circumstances was much worse. This was my chance to do something about it and to take responsibility for the future.

Once the initial shock wore off, it was time to plan. It boiled down to two very important things:

First, Time Management: balancing family time with children and time with studying, not wasting time with TV, cutting down on social gatherings and letting friends know the time is limited. Babysitters would have to be found -- oh, how fortunate I've been in that! There would have to be a schedule for managing homework and assignments, and the schedule would need sticking to.

In my attempt to balance time, I found it was a matter of attitude, of perspective. I made my study time my "Me" time. It was a chance to learn something new and build towards a goal. Studying is not a chore. Learning is a vocation and a passion. From what I've seen, mine is not a common way of looking at things. Certainly, studying has its share of what some might call drudgery; perhaps it was an advantage to know and to be experiencing the hours of far more extreme drudgery that go with bringing up babies and small children.

Second part of the Plan, Damage Control: things would go wrong. Sure there had to be a schedule, but it would have to be flexible enough to accept changes, sometimes major ones. If I couldn't make it to class, I'd need to have arranged someone to get notes for me, make explanations to the Profs; I'd need a plan to get caught up and, if that wasn't possible, to modify my timetable. Schedules wouldn't always proceed at the pace assumed by optimistic plans. Flexibility and multitasking would have to come into play. Fortunately, as a single mother, I'd had lots of recent experience with both. Children, and even adult students, can get sick. For example, in my second year, I suddenly got really ill. It felt as though I had blown a fuse -- affecting my eyesight, senses and speech. After tests revealed a neurological disorder, it was time to weigh the options. Working through the new challenge to the best of my modified abilities, and I made a radical reduction of my timetable for the rest of that term.

I'm lucky with the Profs I have. They do vary, mind you, in their understanding of their students' needs. I had to leave one three-hour class 20 minutes early to pick my daughter up from kindergarten. The professor was new to the country and to her profession. She decided to punish me by deducting participation marks. She was quite a bit younger than me, and I attributed her rigidity to her own insecurity. (Ironically, the last laugh was mine. She became visibly pregnant, and some months later began to appear with bags under her eyes. Somehow her attitude towards me seemed to change.) For the most part, though, Profs seem glad to talk with me, and they seem to want to get to know me better; there are not too many mature students in the class. They do know that I face greater challenges and some have asked me how I manage.

Some people expressed doubts as to whether I would find enough time for the children. Clearly, a good babysitter would be needed, and I had to set aside enough time for them before I left for school and when I came back. And I hope and believe that my student endeavours don't come at their expense; I still see my time reading and writing as providing a useful role model for them. They see what a normal day is like: work brought home, and plenty of time spent doing it. As well, my doing this was my only chance as a sole-support parent to bring them up into a life without the dependency and hopelessness that many women in my kind of situation seem to fall into.

The irony is that what was once upon a time going to be a hobby ended up becoming something I absolutely had to do in order to secure a future of gainful employment as a sole support parent. It was my opportunity of a lifetime to do something I'd wanted to do and intended to do once the children became more independent. Not everyone gets this chance. And through it all, I maintained the same perspective I'd begun with.

Although my ultimate aim was to reduce and eventually eliminate my dependence on others, ironically, there were two groups of people that I was completely dependent upon at the moment. First of course, my wonderful babysitters. But then in the University itself are the people I think of as my Alliances. I sought out the students who were serious about their work, and whenever a group had to be formed, chose them to be with. We take notes for each other, and often we constitute ourselves as a Study Group. I like to think our group isn't always people doing things for me. Sometimes, being older and having different life-experiences and a different religion, I can contribute ideas that the others couldn't have come up with on their own. So although there's an imbalance in my favour, the Alliance is reciprocal.

A couple more things strike me. First, I don't think I could have made it this far if all my classes had been large ones, with no chance to get to know the Prof or to interact with others just as serious about their work as I am. Sit, learn, write tests, graduate and leave. I could never have done that. I needed smaller classes that let me interact and gain validation from the encouraging comments Profs offered.

Second, if I didn't love the material I'm studying, then carrying on would be absolutely impossible. My advice to other mature students in a position like mine, unless you're sure you have a commitment to your studies, and consistent enthusiasm for the work, then don't do it.

I'm proud of what I've done. I tell people that I have a degree in domestic engineering. Sometimes they get the joke. Now I have my degree, and employment that required the qualification and uses at least some of the things I leaned along the way. I can’t adequately find words for my journey. My proudest moment: my daughter graduating from kindergarten the day before I graduated from university.

Ultimately, my returning to school was an investment I made in myself so I could do more for my family. I am thankful for others investing their time in helping me realize my goals and providing opportunities to put the knowledge I have acquired into practice. And now I am paying it forward by doing the same for others who are in my situation. But that’s another story.