As one of the approximately 3000 undergraduates to have recently bid farewell to Oxford, I’ve learnt just how easy it is to be overwhelmed now that my degree is over. Admittedly a few months ago I was writing my thesis, overwhelmed that my degree wasn’t over, but the sudden absence of work, routine, and plans is proving incredibly daunting. Whilst I know many people prepared a route out of university, stepping directly into a comfortable (and well-earned) graduate role, for those of us who were not so forthright, or, in my case, whose plans changed, we now find ourselves back home, seemingly in the same position we were three years ago before we even applied, wondering, what’s next? And indeed, how did it actually help us?
But before I spiral into nihilism, looking back, much has changed in those past three years. Has it been enough to fully prepare me for the outside world? Maybe not entirely. But I’m not keen on the binary of Oxford vs the real world, and I doubt that anyone is ever truly prepared to become an adult. But Oxford certainly challenged me, as it has many other people, to develop a greater degree of confidence and ambition. It might not be the real world, but I think it gives you enough of a taste of it to want more.
Oxford is certainly a world of its own, with thousands of people, all bound by similar interests and attitudes, interwoven with each other to simply exist. It’s an environment in which we all have our own diverse daily routines that fundamentally amount to the same thing. We share the same stresses and joys – from tutorials to Oxford Kermit, Oxford students are bound by an esoteric language that puts it one human sacrifice away from being a cult. At the centre is its focus on academia – but there seems to be little preparation beyond this. Where are we taught how to do taxes? Or how to face rejection from job applications? For many, Oxford seems to provide a kind of safety blanket where such concerns are temporarily suspended. The gap between town and gown is evidently a wide one.
So is that all finalists have to look forward to? A harsh drop into reality because Oxford didn’t prepare us? Whilst we get the chance to exist in such a haze, one of the main pieces of advice I would give to younger years would be to recognise the many skills and abilities with which Oxford does equip you, many of which you develop without even realising it. University life requires so much – from juggling far too many deadlines, to the pressure of sustaining a social life – and on reflection, it’s clear how far many of my friends and I have come in this time. It provides a sense of independence and freedom which is incredibly liberating. Key skills that stay with you might not be those you learn in university, but they certainly are those you learn whilst at university.
The most tangible way of judging how prepared we are is whether we have a job after Oxford – a harsh metric. According to the University, 93% of undergraduates were in full-time work within 15 months of leaving Oxford in 2022. A positive figure. Likewise, no one could ever doubt the usefulness of the Careers Service, tirelessly dealing with the queries of students and providing many valuable opportunities year-round. The University is clearly offering some form of employment preparation, regardless of whether it’s for the welfare of its students or to bump it up a few more places in the league tables.
There certainly can be a sense of guilt, that not taking advantage of the abundance of opportunities at Oxford is somehow a failing on your own part. But you cannot do everything, and, if truth be told, this is part of a wider problem. The imagined incompatibility of Oxford life and the ‘real world’ creates some mirage that we stagnate or solidify in maturity after leaving university. Yet we will continue to be faced with thousands of opportunities and setbacks, will continue learning in one way or another. The notion of the real world serves primarily as intimidation which can be helpful, to an extent. The only thing different from the Oxford bubble, truly, is that there is no set framework for opportunities.
So, it is at this point that we use the creativity and strength which we have from being at Oxford, fostered through work and daily life, to push forward and try to create opportunities. This will undoubtedly be difficult; I labour under no illusion that meritocracy is perfection. But we should reframe ourselves and the labels we have adopted. Leaving Oxford should not be a tragic loss but an exciting time for new development. Or maybe check in with me in a couple of months when I’ve been rejected from a few hundred jobs.
