Dropouts are an odd demographic.
Any social group containing me, Bill Gates and George Clooney will never be an ideal subject for sweeping generalisations. Some of us leave to start international tech giants, others move to Sheffield and join the snooker society. In other news, ‘Drawing the short straw’ is the rumoured title of Bill’s memoirs.
However, there’s a part of our doomed higher education experiences that we likely share: a lacklustre social life.
At one end of the scale this may mean a general disappointment when struck with the reality of university – ‘Uni life’ failing to reach the racy, raucous heights set by pop culture portrayal and the embellished tales of older siblings. At the other, it may mean something darker. An acute, trying isolation.
The time I spent at the University of Leeds – a solid shift of three months – was somewhere in the middle of this spectrum. The social struggles of my tenure were neither bleak, nor trivial, but they certainly felt closer to the former at the time.
Looking back, I suppose I did feel lonely.
The thing is, according to the Higher Education Policy Institute, this isn’t unusual. Their annual survey on student experience reported that one in four students are lonely ‘most or all of the time’.
According to Dale Kitchen, the University’s Counselling service manager, this sense of isolation manifests itself in many ways.
“Students can feel depressed, their sleep can be affected, it may result in students avoiding going out and increased anxiety and stress,” she said.
“Sufferer’s self-esteem can be attacked, resulting in a lack of self-confidence.”
It is perhaps unsurprising to many studying in Sheffield to be told there are those who experience these symptoms, but learning the magnitude of the problem – nearly a quarter of their cohort – may seem more remarkable.
A figure that only gets more startling when compared to the rest of the population. The latest data from the ONS reveals that students are five times as lonely as adults nationwide, where just one in twenty report comparative levels of isolation.
Students are unusually lonely. Why?
In answering this question, Dale points at the transition first-years experience from home to university.
It’s a “shock to the system coming from an environment where, for many, everything was cosy, wonderful and pre-prepared, to one where all of these networks are no longer set up for them.”
Is it possible we don’t fully appreciate how extreme this shift is? Young adults of all backgrounds, and consequently all degrees of maturity and life-experience, being dropped into a new, alien environment in which they must coexist.
Although if basic existence was the zeitgeist’s benchmark for a successful University experience then the issue might be less complicated. Newcomers aren’t supposed to simply exist but thrive.
Ann-Marie Sloman, a mental health service manager working in student support, identifies this expectation as a key factor in aggravating the mental impact of loneliness.
It is expected that “University should be the best days of your life, where you’re spreading your wings and becoming more independent.”
Combined with the additional tuition costs, and the wider economic picture, this generation of students’ face, there is a lot more pressure these days.
Ann-Marie said: “A degree costs a lot of money, and if you’re failing,” if your reality isn’t living up to society’s elevator pitch, “it feels like you’re wasting all of that.”
From personal experience I can assure you that the feeling of wasting an opportunity is an authentic one, as is the guilt that sprouts from it. The sense of disconnect with those around you only worsened by the joy-deficit you see in your dreary day-to-day, when measured against everyone else’s non-stop socialising.
Above the usual struggles carried with the academic rite of passage, there is a factor unique to this generation of students. Hanging over this discussion is the spectre of the pandemic.
A study of the pandemic’s impact from Student Minds – the UK’s largest University-focused mental health charity – found that 74% of students reported that Covid-19 had a negative impact on there mental health, with two thirds stating that they have ‘often felt isolated or lonely since March 2020.’
For students who lived and studied through it, the effect was enormous, irreparably scarring their time at university. The toll is a matter of public record, measured in squandered pound sterling and lost contact hours.
However, the long-term impact is arguably yet to be seen. For the age-band of teenagers whose formative years of social development were stunted by state-mandated separation, how their ability to cope with the previously touched upon ‘transition’ will be affected is uncertain.
A study from Bristol University discovered that the number of young people with anxiety more than doubled due to the pandemic, from 13% beforehand to 27% by January 2021.
While it is hoped this will not harm their ability to cope socially when cut loose, and thrust into the world of higher education, it would be foolish to expect no impact.
Dale echoes this, describing how, although she’s certain Covid-19 “had a hell of a lot of an impact” on student mental health, “it’ll take a while until we’re clear on how the pandemic affected everybody.”
In terms of advice to those currently struggling, Dale didn’t hesitate in directing them to the University’s student counselling service, reassuring students that “it can always be helpful to talk things through.”
Ann-Marie acknowledges that while people “don’t want to hear about ‘getting yourself out there’ as a solution to their problems,” signing up to an activity you can engage with, offering volunteering in a field of interest as an example, can mean that “without trying to force things you might be able to forge some connections.”
She further suggests exploring the Umii app – a student social networking site recently adopted by the university – describing it as “a very practical way of trying to connect to people.”
Help exists if students are prepared to use it, so why the discrepancy between the number of cases of loneliness treated and those reported?
Well, it seems like admittance is the hardest step.
Dale continues: “If we are right in thinking that students might feel shame, or be aware of any stigma loneliness carries, the best way to destigmatise something is to keep talking about it.” She advises the university to make every effort in “allowing people to be able to feel like it’s OK.”
For all the gloom this article has carried about a subsection of student life, it must be stressed that the archetype of the ‘University experience’ exists because it is very real for very many. University can be transformative for those who attend it, allowing them to forge permanent bonds and have their worldviews turned upside down, making their lives all the richer for it.
Which makes it an even greater shame that some might lose out on this because, as Dale notes, “it’s a big thing to say, ‘I’m lonely.’”
“Lots of students would find that difficult. In fact, I would find that difficult.”
