Student perspective: Musings of a Mature Student at Marjon
Personally, I hate the term ‘mature student’. My mind immediately goes to some old wedge of cheddar cheese that’s been long forgotten at the back of the fridge. But it’s the proper term for us – anyone starting university at or over the age of 21. I imagine the feeling of being dubbed ‘mature’ is not dissimilar to that of a 35-year-old woman being called a geriatric mother, but there it is.
‘What about a Foundation Degree?’
I applied directly to Marjon through clearing in a last-minute decision! I had a career of about seven years in education prior to applying, and I was a firm believer that I was not suited to university, nor was it me. My A-Level results spelt ‘due’, so I thought higher education was a dead end for me.
I was at a friend’s house, and we were talking about our lives and careers, and I said I was bored. I felt stale and restless, itching for a new challenge. My friend said, ‘What about a Foundation Degree?’ This wasn’t something I’d encountered before, but she explained how it could work as a partial degree, which could be topped up with a third year to become a full degree.
Despite the fact we were a few glasses of wine into the evening, we set about researching my options. The very first to come up was Marjon. I had limited knowledge and experience of Marjon, but I had family who had gone and loved it, it was close to home and work, and it was a small university, which seemed comforting.
I was terrified, my initial confidence had been supplied by half a bottle of wine
An hour later, I’d applied directly to the University through clearing (on my phone, which I don’t recommend doing!), and the following week I was booked to attend an informal interview with the course leader. I was terrified, my initial confidence had been supplied by half a bottle of wine, and I was wondering if I’d made a mistake, if I wasn’t capable and if I was setting myself up for failure.
I arrived at the University, daunted by its eerily quiet campus (it was August) and its huge reception area. The happy faces that greeted me at the Welcome Desk certainly pushed my nerves down. When the lecturer appeared, she was not what I had envisioned at all. She wasn’t an archaic dictator in elbow patches, but a kind, smiley face in jeans. She took me on a small tour of the clean, green campus, and I liked how it looked cared for and respected. We settled in her office and talked about where I was now and where I could go after studying. All the way through our time together, I got the sense she was eager to help me find the best route and was genuinely interested in what I had to say. She told me my level three qualification wasn’t recognised by UCAS, which put a dampener on my hopes, but she said all I needed to do was write one good essay, and I’d be a shoo-in!
This was it; this was the moment I could open a new door.
That afternoon, I raced home, flung open my laptop, and sat scribbling away for hours. The same evening, I sent the essay to the lecturer and that was that. I decided I wasn’t going to pay anymore thought to it, what will be will be.
Soon after, I came home to a letter on the doormat with the Marjon logo on it. This was it; this was the moment I could open a new door. I opened it and I’d got in with an unconditional offer!
Come September, it was time to go to campus for my first day. A few days prior, I’d found out on Facebook a colleague was enrolled on the same course, so I was less nervous knowing I had a friend to take the plunge with. We met early that day and went to Barjon to get a coffee and start to gauge a sense of the place. As we walked the corridors, everyone smiled and said hello and we started to feel relaxed like we were meant to be there. We felt like we belonged.
As the hour approached, we headed to our classroom for the morning session. We walked into a room filled with people of all different ages and backgrounds. It took mere hours before a WhatsApp group had begun and we’d already started making friends. A few weeks later, we were a big group of about 25 people aged 19 to 50-something, all having lunch together, supporting each other, and in the same situation, figuring out our return to education, together.
It took a few weeks to adjust to a new regime of work and family and university, not to mention the sudden influx in reading and work, but you find a way, get into a groove, and get on with it. I kept expecting it all to stop working and fall apart, but it didn’t happen.
The lecturers went out of their way to deliver robust support
Everything was going well; I’d achieved a 78/100 on my first assignment and was thriving in the challenge. The lectures hadn’t been what I expected them to be, and I was wonderfully surprised. I’d imagined 200 people sat in a hall whilst wisdom and information were imparted unto us by an ageing white man in a tweed suit, with only the questions of his students to keep him from dozing off. But it wasn’t like that at all. We had engaging sessions of discussion and debate; the lecturers valued our input and opinions and respected the fact that we were already on the job and could relate the theoretical knowledge to what was actually happening in our workplaces.
Unfortunately, an infamous little friend called Covid-19 decided to carelessly interrupt, putting a stop to pretty much everything around the world. It was a horrible time of uncertainty, and no one had any answers. My employer didn’t know what was going to happen any more than Marjon did. But the University made a clear path for us. As soon as the Government said we all had to stay at home, Marjon said ‘We’ll learn online’. Within a week, everything had been set up for us to continue learning online. Lectures carried on as normal, and our class even continued to have lunch together, albeit on Teams. Despite the fact we couldn’t be learning in a room together, the lecturers went out of their way to deliver robust support and help us continue to achieve.
We pretty much finished our first year online. When the reading and assignments stopped for the summer, it was strange. We’d been occupied by learning, work, family, Covid-19 restrictions, and the six o’clock news frightening us each day with a rising death toll, so when work and university came to an end for the academic year, it made us all realise how much we enjoyed Marjon.
Marjon isn’t just a university or a building, it’s a thriving community with such a big personality
Fast-forward to 2021, we’d handed in our last assignment and were eagerly awaiting the results of our two-year Foundation Degree. Some classmates had decided that was where their academic journey would end, whilst others (including me), were looking forward to joining another degree for a top-up year.
We’d all performed very well, especially considering the unprecedented circumstances in which we were studying! In September, we moved to varying degrees. This was a little sad at times, as we’d been such a tight-knit group, pulling together to find a way through hard essays and tricky times, but we built a new community with our newfound classmates who were already on the degree.
We finished our final year and I graduated with First Class Honours, something I never even considered to be within my reach, and never would have been if I hadn’t gone to Marjon. I was pleased to have done so well, but I couldn’t help feeling a little empty. You see, Marjon isn’t just a university or a building, it’s a thriving community with such a big personality, and you just fall in love with it. It’s a place where everyone knows you by name and the staff at Marjon truly want you to succeed and see you go beyond your potential, and they’ll do everything they can to see that happen.
My advice to you if you’re looking to return to study as a mature student is – do it. You have to be brave, be prepared to be challenged and work hard, but it’s so worth it. It gives you new confidence, can open doors for further opportunities, and you learn more about yourself than you might have known before.
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