A Letter form England: October 2019

This time of year sees an annual process that tears families apart: the departure of students to University. I remember tearful and desolate journeys home, having left my own children at their respective temples of Academia. Not only for their first terms, though those were undoubtedly the worst, but through following years as well.

For many young people it is their first substantial period away from home, and without the support of old friends. It is a time of trepidation and excitement, a time for making new friendships and a time of challenge. For parents, too, it is a time of great change and uncertainty. The thought that their children have now fled the family nest, perhaps permanently, is never a comfortable one, and there is always worry about how they will manage in their new surroundings.

Studies apart, the new students have much to prove, if not to learn. Parents hope they have done a good enough job of teaching how to budget and manage money, to cook and feed wisely, to behave and and interact socially in appropriate manner. Students are anxious to prove they can live independently, manage their own affairs, and assert themselves in new peer groups. Mercifully, most succeed surprisingly well, though there is comfort in knowing that support is there for those who find it all less easy.

First-time students are the most likely to find accommodation in Halls of Residence where, it is hoped, someone will keep a caring eye on things. Later, there is generally a move towards less institutional—and cheaper—housing, which can bring its own tribulations. I recall my own experiences of months in a house where one special room was kept eternally spick and span for the sole and exclusive purpose of allowing students to entertain visiting parents. The remainder of the establishment did not bear inspection. The kitchen was was such a disgusting mess that I suspect even the bacteria shied away. Not to worry; we all survived, and I know the place was in no way unique. Of the accommodation enjoyed by my own children, I know what we were shown, and it was better not to enquire too closely.

The purpose of it all though is clear enough, At the end of the day there is great satisfaction when expectations are realised, and parents suddenly realise that their children have grown up whilst they weren’t looking.