What does a 21-year-old who is currently binge-watching gossip girl have in common with the majority of UK politicians? Whilst this reads like a joke from the back of a penguin wrapper, the response is unfortunately a lot less comical (subject to opinion). I, a 21-year-old girl, share the alma matter of many of these politicians. Whilst some are debating amidst a pandemic whether we should be discussing this at all, I am in the mood to procrastinate my learning about tropical diseases to discuss whether attending such institutions deems you intelligent.
Coming from a family, the majority of whom have not attended university, my definition of intelligence goes beyond the books. My sister works at a call centre which during these ‘uncertain’ times is a blessing to us all. Whether it is Jenny calling to discuss re-mortgaging her house or Albert calling to chat about his holiday in 1988 and ‘the good old days’, my sister is always polite, patient and caring. I am proud to have attended an institution such as Oxford and have learned so much academically. Yet, whilst I attended Oxford, I never met an individual with the emotional intelligence displayed by my sister, or anybody who has a better rendition of ‘all that jazz’ for that matter. Then there is my brother who regularly comes home ‘black and blue’. Contrary to what is expected, this is not due to violent brawls, but rather due to him working long, tedious days in an ink factory. Without his and his co-workers’ hard efforts there would be no ink on the bottles of medicine bottles and pill packets to treat those who are currently in need. My brother’s intelligence extends beyond a science GCSE curriculum, school doesn’t teach us the perseverance required to work in a demanding factory. My brother also wakes up at 6 am every morning, something most of us students find challenging. My final family member is my mum whose life experience cannot be summarised into a couple of sentences or even a small novel. However, to have raised 3 children who have succeeded in completely different directions must have taken more intelligence, and more importantly patience, than one could ever imagine.
And then there’s me, am I intelligent? The A’s and A*’s may suggest so and I do enjoy learning. So, I guess I am intelligent in my own way. But right now my intelligence is less important. I am not saving lives, making ink or chatting to Deborah about her outgoing payments. Instead I am analysing a fictitious disease on a fictitious island that seems to have an absurdly overweight population. I hope one day my academic intelligence will be useful, but for now I am happy to sit back, try to relax (it is hard for most Oxford students and graduates) and take pride in the intelligence of the key workers and my family.
In my opinion, the discussion should not be whether attending ‘Oxbridge’ or any university makes you intelligent, but rather is enough done so we all have the opportunity to display our intelligence. It would be naïve of me to paint Oxbridge as a perfect system that opens its doors to everybody, but it is certainly trying. A lot of my peers were from state comprehensives, as well as private schools, who worked hard to get there. To assume all people were accepted into Oxbridge via nepotism or some miracle is degrading to the vast majority of students there. Whilst Oxford does have its fair share of arrogant, egotistical maniacs, many of us will open up to suffering from imposter syndrome. How had I got into Oxford without submitting an ostentatious application like Elle Woods in legally blonde? At the beginning I’d often pinch myself, wondering if it was even real. But, you come to realise everyone there is not a genius and they enjoy bingeing Netflix as well as having a guilty pleasure for academia on the side; you realise everyone is normal (just the extreme ends of the curve ha-ha).
My final view point is perhaps we should stop trying to churn out perfect students out of schools like a so-called gingerbread factory. As lovely as gingerbread is, what would the world be without a few digestives or custard creams? I guess what my metaphor is trying to say is that there isn’t just one form of intelligence. We live in a world that is growing to embrace diversity, intelligence should not be the exception!
Nina 