The high cost of part-time study
Don’t be fooled - it is not always a wise choice for undergrads.
by Craig Monk
From college town to urban campus, you see them night and day. They are serving coffee, waiting tables and stocking shelves. They will check your gym membership when you stand before them in sweats; they will decline your credit card at the supermarket, and you will wonder whether they laugh at you behind your back.
They are your students.
There is a long, proud tradition of working while going to school. Part-time students take a class or two, usually at night, while they pursue careers during the day. But many working students are full-time students, taking retail shifts at the expense of classes.
As an undergraduate in the 1980s, I paid my tuition by working at a record store and avoided student loans. But, I only worked 16 hours a week and full-time in summer. Students today cannot meet their financial obligations by working three shifts at minimum wage, yet they still need to supplement personal savings and government aid – so they commit to more work.
For as long as I’ve been teaching, I’ve been asked to accept that reduced course loads are good for students. Parents repeat this to each other on orientation day. Our academic regulations normally require students in academic peril to take fewer classes. But mounting evidence suggests that this approach may be wrongheaded.
At my institution, studies show no statistical difference in performance between students taking four classes a term and those taking five; but students taking three classes actually perform worse. While students taking four may need extra study time to compete with classmates taking five, students doing three – considered “full-time” by loan administrators – are likely distracted by what they are doing elsewhere.
Two years ago, our academic advising unit began a project to assist struggling students with course selection. These students were asked to revisit an adviser during the semester and to attend remedial workshops. Four in five students in this program improved their standing by maintaining a full course load. By comparison, only about half of our students in peril improved their grade-point averages by reducing their course loads.
Of course, students in the advising unit’s project were more motivated; for a variety of reasons, they wanted to keep taking five classes. And you could argue that such extensive remediation would help anyone improve. Still, the success of students who were made to focus on schooling draws into question any “go slow” orthodoxy.
While a reduced course load might lower tuition in any given semester while allowing students to make the rent, there are long-term costs for everyone involved. Students who take five classes a semester will be able to graduate most undergraduate programs in four years.
Universities’ sequencing and staffing plans assume that students follow 10 classes a year, but that isn’t always the case. Students on reduced load will inevitably miss a critical course offered only in autumn, and they will demand that we mount an additional spring section that numbers don’t justify. They may even expect that, instead of being asked to wait for the missed course, they’ll be absolved of having it in their programs. So, while student achievement in degrees earned more slowly is likely to be hindered by distraction, there is also pressure to dilute the content. Mediocre performance in compromised programs does much more harm to careers than part-time jobs do good.
While there is no simple fix to the student funding crisis, it seems to me that bold action is warranted. It begins by acknowledging that part-time work that requires students to reduce full-time study is harmful to us all. We could reorganize programs to mandate a series of co-requisites that obliges students to do programs in blocks; and tuition schedules could be rearranged to provide an incentive to students doing a full load of five classes.
But when students have come to expect education “their way” (like the fast food sold in the restaurants where they work their off-hours), which school will be the first to blink? Will a public that believes universities to be impractical support any plan to shelter our students from the real world? And, though we're told that retail jobs aren't careers for graduates, can businesses afford to have their staff move on without the promise of a new generation shackled to the till?
Craig Monk is a professor of English and associate dean in the faculty of arts and science at the University of Lethbridge. His column appears in every second issue.