The paradox of privilege
The Oak Door: an almighty portal to endless opportunities and success, according to Strannis; a first-class ticket to indoctrination into the dark sorcery that is capitalism, in the eyes of Mikael Holmqvist, author of Handels: Maktelitens Skola. Regardless of what one’s opinion might be, one thing is for sure: one is bound to have one. But how is the lens through which the students themselves view their renowned institution constructed, and where does the point of focus lay?
When deciding to start studying at SSE, we all by default signed the silent contract of agreement to be scrutinized as future leaders and bearers of the banner of capitalism. To see the diverse range of backgrounds and ambitions present at our university does not appeal to critics the way tattooing “brat” on our foreheads do, and thus, we are easily put into a folder when we enter the magnificent building at Sveavägen 65, towering over Observatorielunden like the Hogwarts of business schools, there to provide its students with the skills needed to apparate directly to the top of the career ladder. But, does it really matter that people glare begrudgingly at the chandeliers in the aula and the funding from the corporate world, or is it merely our egos that are hurt? After all, we barely hide our basking in the jealous gazes of others’; the ones we like to stir up—perhaps even provoke—by showcasing our beloved SSE hoodies and their matching grey bags.
This club of exclusivity is undeniably coveted as well as despised, by spectators as well as members, and the expectations for a student attending this institution, are naturally going to be high. Not least in these times do we feel the looming pressure to succeed the way our predecessors so clearly have, as told by the reputation that drew us all here in the first place. This is the thorn that comes with the rose, the ebb that comes with the flow, the piercing headache that inevitably comes the morning after a truly spectacular night in the Rotunda. For who are we, if we cannot keep up with the train—the train we had to jump onto while in full speed, the one filled with passengers seeming to know exactly where they are headed, whose horn sounds loudly across media and the business world, and which twitches and turns until we get motion sick (or was that just PU in the Rotunda again?).
In (very) rough numbers, 55 percent of SSE’s bachelor’s students graduate within three years. It is not unusual that as much as 20-30 percent fail an exam on their first attempt, and seeing as you, despite perhaps having failed one or a few exams, are not always in the non-passing category, it is safe to assume that the group of students having to re-take an exam from time to time is both large and diverse. And I have to apologize for not having data to support this last claim, but I am pretty sure that the amount of students who feel like they have no clue what is going on, at least every now and then, is very close to 100 percent.
Due to a little thing psychologists like to call arbitrary inference, we tend to draw larger conclusions based on incomplete evidence. This can, for instance, be to overestimate people around us, while simultaneously underestimating ourselves. I am no expert, but in my opinion this tendency seems to be even more prevalent under the currently prevailing distance studies. Ponder it—how many times do you not leave the lecture hall hearing “I am so lost” under normal circumstances? The problem is, now we do not leave, but remain in our very own, isolated classrooms, unaware of others’ cluelessness as it remains unspoken when we to a larger extent than ever before communicate through the filters of our screens.
So, aside from the negative consequences brought on by a lack of social activities and interaction, we as high-performing students are facing the additional pressure of keeping up with our ostensibly immaculate classmates. Unfamiliar with the current situation, we have no set routines for tackling this new cocktail of struggles, which has led many of us to feel dispirited.
When unable to resort to known solutions, we must step outside our comfort zone and acknowledge that perhaps this is not something we can solve on our own, however uncomfortable this realization may be. Seeing a professional does not require you to have severe and/or concrete problems, but can simply be about receiving guidance with regard to your current life situation. I would hence like to encourage everyone who feels lost or a bit blue to consider this option; a psychologist will pass far less judgment upon you than you do yourself.
But regardless of how you experience the SSE train ride, it is a known fact that despite only 55 percent graduating within three years, many failing one or a couple of exams, and the majority undeniably being somewhat confused, 95 percent also find employment within three months of graduation—and so will most likely you. Until then, I think it is safe to say that the best thing you can do is to enjoy the student life ride for an extra station.
We are attending a well-renowned institution providing us endless opportunities. This is a privilege, but one that can sometimes feel overwhelming. If I lost you at some point during this rant, I will conclude by stating that in essence, there are three things I would like to say: 1. Do not take things too seriously, because 2. You will be fine, and 3. If you doubt number two, it is okay to ask for help. The Oak Door should have you impressed and excited, not exhausted by its heavy weight. You would not skip a Rotunda night just for the sake of avoiding a headache, right?
Lovisa Bergdahl - President of the Education Committee