Students pawns in game of reputations and dollars
Iam almost an empty-nester. The steps towards my motherly redundancy are coming thick and fast; last week I gave my 18-year-old his passport and told him he is now solely responsible for looking after it. Just a couple of days later he passed his full driving licence. Next year he will be off to uni.
I wish I could match his excitement. But all this is happening at a time when my confidence in our universities’ ability to keep students safe is already low – and the news out of Canterbury University this week is not helping.
Earlier this year, with colleague Joel McManus, I spent months investigating sexual assaults at our biggest universities.
Initially we had great difficulty getting some institutions to engage.
We had to pester for every crumb of information and much of the time we got nothing but bland, sweeping statements.
Eventually, at the same time young people in halls were calling to thank us for writing their stories, Otago University emailed claiming we could be making ‘‘the situation more difficult and traumatic’’ for them. As we talked to more people, we heard the same thing again and again; our universities do not want to admit these things are an issue because it might damage their reputations. And we know those reputations mean dollars.
It makes me sick to think they might put their own reputation above the safety of the students that pay their bills. But there is one thing I am rock-solid certain of: No institution wants the kind of reputation that comes with allowing a student to lie dead in his room for two months.
The aftermath of 19-year-old Mason Pendrous’ death is so inconceivably sad, it is hard to even begin to understand.
Sending your teenager to halls of residence for year one of their tertiary education is an accepted norm for families that can afford the extra cost, and sheesh that cost is high. At the Campus Living Village run hall where Mason Pendrous died, students pay close to $400 a week for room and board.
Other New Zealand halls of residence charge even more.
For parents paying (or helping to pay) that $16,000 a year, there is an implied benefit – an extra level of safety, security and care for your child in their first year away from home. You think, if a university or its proxy is charging an arm and a leg for room, board and pastoral care, then the above three elements must be of an excellent standard.
If you didn’t want that, you would send them flatting which is generally much cheaper.
On the Campus Living Village website the benefit is not just implied, it is in your face.
Lots of pictures of smiling,
You think, if a university or its proxy is charging an arm and a leg for room, board and pastoral care, then the above three elements must be of an excellent standard. If you didn’t want that, you would send them flatting which is generally much cheaper.
diverse groups of students and rave reviews from people who talk about staff members ‘‘ready to help us at any time’’. The ‘‘news’’ section of the website boasts about CLV UK’s win in the pan-Europe Outstanding Mental Wellbeing Initiative award. It says the award ‘‘is recognition of Campus Living Villages’ strong track record on supporting students with poor mental health’’. That may be true of many CLV campus accommodation blocks around the world. But it is hard to match up with the situation at the Sonoda village where Pendrous died.
We now know CLV pushed through a restructure earlier this year, despite warnings the changes could put pastoral care at Canterbury University halls at ‘‘significant risk’’. It appears the company was warned that losing staff would leave more responsibility for pastoral care in the hands of the residential assistants – of which there are two, to look after more than 100 students.
Those RAs are also victims of this terrible situation. As McManus wrote this week, RAs are students themselves, often a year or two older than the teenagers they are there to help. CLV was told pastoral care requires professionally trained staff. This appears to have fallen on deaf ears.
Now the education minister is calling for answers, and we have been assured two separate investigations are under way.
Knowing what I know, I can’t muster much faith those investigations will tell any truth to the public, let alone find a fix. Launching an investigation has become shorthand for ‘‘back off and don’t ask any further questions’’. It has become a way to show some action is being taken, without the need for any promise of transparent results. Terms of reference are often set as narrowly as possible and without consultation. The suspicion is, it is done that way to ensure the result delivers the least possible reputational damage.
CLV and Canterbury University owe it to this young student and his family to determine the failures. They also owe peace of mind to the parents who are right now reading the brochures and making decisions about where to spend thousands of dollars that will, allegedly, keep their teenagers safe.