Living has a cost by Abby Buckthought

At 21 years old, three years into my fouryear undergraduate conjoint degree, I’m $44,492.20 in debt. This is despite my course fees only costing around $7000 per year, the first of which was free. My student loan living costs, $230 per week I have been withdrawing for the past three years, make up most of this amount. This pays for my rent and power each week, but nothing else. I’ve been working part-time throughout my entire degree, at least 15 hours a week, but this can extend to as many as 30 hours. I don’t often get a day off throughout the week – and if I do, it’s generally spent catching up on assignments and study, or doing extra work for my part-time or internship roles. Despite having a grade average between an A- and an A (touch wood it stays there), scholarships that would minimise the damage of my loan are out of reach – either my grades are not quite good enough or I fall short in needing to have leadership experience in the community, both of which can be largely attributed to having to work. I’m also not eligible for a student allowance, as my parents earn just over the margin. They send me $60 a week for my mental health, which I spend on my gym membership, saving the rest for medical expenses – I’m extremely grateful for this, but I still need to work to afford to live. I’m financially literate and in control, disciplined, and in a secure retail job where I’m treated well, after years of being abused and taken advantage of in hospitality. This is not the case for many students. I work to a budget, putting expenses aside every payday, accounting for upcoming costs such as gas, insurance, food for my cat, and groceries. I try to save money too – though technically, I could work less and not save, but then I would have no security for emergencies. How are we supposed to go out into a world that doesn’t exist? This is not a generation’s pity party. This is an evidence-supported concession to a near-inevitable fate. In this late-stage capitalist hellscape, it seems there is little to do but watch the world burn with wide eyes. The light-hearted phrase, ‘if you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em’ seems more ironic than ever – it mocks us with the illusion we have a choice. We shouldn’t have to be martyrs. Tales of our parents’ upbringings and coming of age seem to almost mock us as we live (hopefully) through a pandemic, the climate crisis, political inaction, war, and the rise of technology, all of which we are hyper-aware. Generation Z reported the highest levels of stress compared to other generations and were the most likely age group to report symptoms of depression, according to a recent study by the American psychological association. We’re also on track to becoming the most educated generation. We’re condemned to a world we didn’t create, and there’s no escaping this fact in such an interconnected, technologically advanced society. The news cycle is an emotionally exhausting one, social media a mind-numbing escape mechanism cluttered with influencers and performative activism, where our attention is contorted into a product. Ignorance would be bliss, but we are increasingly forced to participate in and interact with media as the west evolves into an information society. Being constantly confronted with our mortality numbs us to it, instead, exhausted and subdued, Generation Z copes with dark humour, self-aware but just too young and largely powerless to exercise much control over our futures. There seems to be a new humanitarian crisis, climate catastrophe, social issue, or political conflict to worry about every other day – think police brutality, the Palestine-Israel conflict, wildfires across the globe, the overthrowing of Afghanistan by the Taliban, the genocide of Uyghur Muslims – it is a lot to even comprehend in the context of one’s everyday life, much less act on. The 2017 carbon majors report attributed 71 percent of global emissions to 100 companies. Capitalism keeps us interdependent with the systems and industries that hurt us, shifting the blame to the individual. Virtue signalling is rife, the wealth divide grows, and people are broadly pitted against one another. At a more personal level, having been raised in the standard nuclear family, where the life path dictated unto and expected of you is ‘go to university, get married, buy a house, have children, work until you retire, and die,’ even this, in all its conventionality, seems luxurious. This, in and of itself, is a privileged view – I know it’s the dream of many. The thought of bringing children into this world seems selfish, ever owning a house seems laughable, even making it to the age of 70 seems like wishful thinking. It would be easy to say the world created for this generation is not a reflection of us, but perhaps it is – who else is better equipped to deal with and resolve the challenges facing us when we are the ones who so intimately sit with them? Generation Z identifies with the issues we grew up in, despite not having caused them, because we intrinsically, natively understand them – young enough to remember the rise of the technology, with minds lateral and elastic enough to comprehend and use it. We exist in a transformative social era – applying this lens of awe over the lens of fear does help ease the existential dread. Indeed, we didn’t create the issues we face, but perhaps we’re self-aware and educated enough to manage them. We know nobody is coming to our rescue – it won’t benefit them. Rather than wallowing, we must appreciate we are armed with hope, education, and collectivism – power will come with this. We see the value and opportunity in connection because it’s been thrust upon us. We know, or at least want to believe, that people are inherently good. ‘Never doubt that a small group of thoughtful committed citizens can change the world. Indeed, it’s the only thing that ever has.’ – Margaret Mead.