The rising tide of tuition

Lori-Ann Russell
Staff Writer
For a while now, it’s been throbbing in the front of my mind, and in the minds of the majority of the student population. It’s not my assignments, work, or even an absent social life.
It’s the tuition increase about to take place this year.
All students have it, all students will have it, and it will not go away immediately after graduation.
Don’t get me wrong, seeking an education is worthwhile. I think that’s the prime reason all students attend university: a better future. Before we discuss the future, however, we need to examine the present. Parental expectations are high on the stress bar when it comes to university. My own parents, for instance, encouraged me to fully engage myself in my classes and tutorials so that I can get the full university experience.
It becomes hard, however, to live up to that expectation with tuition lingering in the back of my mind. Sure, I can say that I enjoy my classes and that I love participating in extracurricular activities, but when I graduate from York my debt will not magically disappear.
Students getting their “dream job” – or even a job that’ll pay off their tuition in two years – is unrealistic. The state of our economy forces students to overwork themselves, which leaves little room for the so-called “full university experience.”
Like most other immigrant families, my parents dreamt their children would become successful and make the most of what this country has to offer. A university education is a push forward, but yearly tuition increases are a shove backward, one that knocks me down when my financial documents arrive at my doorstep each semester.
And if it’s not tuition, it’s textbooks. Some students fork out $600 for textbooks they’ll only use for six months. York’s textbook rental program is a start, but it only reduces textbook costs, and doesn’t solve it. Undergrads should be able to enrol in their courses without panicking over the price of their syllabuses.
For law students, the impact of tuition has increased excessively. A 2004 report conducted by researchers at the Social Program Evaluation Group (SPEG) at Queen’s University surveyed lawyers and law students who attended Ontario law schools between 1997 and 2004. They discovered 50 percent of law school students have zero debt coming into the program, but that that number drops to only 20 percent by graduation.
A visit to the financial services’ course fees website showed Osgoode students pay $18,481 for tuition the 2010-2011 year – that’s at least $60,000 for a four-year program.
Financial support from the school is hard to find when 52,000 students are theoretically applying for the same scholarships. The SPEG found 40 percent of Ontario students said law school bursaries serve as a moderate source of funds, and half of those students say they’re a major funding source.
Some students work two, maybe even three jobs so they don’t have to worry about living in debt for the next 20 years of their career, but their paycheques don’t seem to be growing at the same rate of their tuitions. Students who overwork themselves are not able to get enough sleep – some net four to six hours if they’re lucky. Personally, if I am unable to get a good night sleep, I’m unable to reach my full potential – thanks, tuition increase.
For a school with a population of over 50,000, tuition shouldn’t be so expensive. As an English student, financial crises are difficult but manageable – there are usually only four to six novels on the curriculum, and many of the classics are available through the library. The library, however, doesn’t have my full course load on its shelves.
Tuition increases are an ongoing problem: if students are able to put back into the economy what they learn in school, why is student debt still rising? If I strive to fulfill my parents’ dreams and my own goals, I can’t bear to have dollar signs hovering around my cranium every semester.