You have probably guessed by now that my love for languages runs a little deeper than formal study. Regardless, I’m about to embark on one final course in order to complete my degree. Today I want to share a very personal post with you about my relationship with The Open University. This is my OU story. Allow me to explain…

A long time ago, in a galaxy far far away…Sorry, wrong story.

When I was 17 (August baby. Power to the young!) I was faced with the mind-boggling decision of picking a university. Let me give you some background.

At secondary school, no teacher had even uttered the word university to us. We weren’t expected to go it seemed. Predicted to spend our lives in the first job we found out of school at 16 it seemed. Yoda it seemed. Oops, wrong story again.

I didn’t really fancy staying in the first job post education for the rest of my life. Even at that age, I didn’t know what I wanted but I did know that what I wanted wasn’t to be found in the first job I found out of school at 16. Incidentally, that was Argos. I even had keys to the iPod and jewellery room. Not that a lot of the jewellery was worth much. Unless big dangly golden doll necklaces are your thing. Or bling. (Sorry, couldn’t resist.)

Anyway, whilst working at Argos, I also moved on from the secondary school that had rather low hopes for us to a “better” sixth form school in a nearby village that, as it turned out on open evening, was a specialist language school.

The sixth form here did predict you to go to university. Only, the overwhelming sudden existence of the word threw me right off. And I instantly repelled against the thought of it.

It wasn’t until the last week of applications that I approached my intelligent, university applied friend Hannah to help read through my personal statement and finalise the application. I visited 3 out of the six universities I applied to and felt no affinity to any of them. I didn’t really want to go. I reluctantly accepted a deferred place at Sheffield as plans for a year out beforehand were in full swing. I can’t say gap year anymore, it sounds far too rah nowadays.

Until very recently, boxes upon boxes of kitchen paraphernalia and flat pack furniture graced my mum’s attic with the word SHEFFIELD inked in permanent marker on their sides. Needless to say I didn’t go to university. For a few reasons.

I didn’t want to be surrounded by people who cared more about their next beer than their next exam, I didn’t want to then be excluded from social activities for not caring about the next beer, and finally, and most importantly, I didn’t want the debt. I still don’t understand the principle of going somewhere to supposedly improve your life only to be grazed with a hunking great big hole in your imaginary unbalanced finances looming over you until you earn enough to pay it back or you die, whichever comes first. Is that really the sign of life improvement?

At risk of sounding like a rebellious teen, the formula was all wrong, the system was broken and to top it all off, a recession was happening. Adios, Woolworths.

Graduates were leaving university into a jobless market, saturated by competition due to the number of people that held a similar piece of paper affirming their life was, well and truly, improved. It didn’t make sense.

Yet, amidst all this, I knew I wanted to continue to study languages – not just French and Spanish, but other exciting foreign tongues. The Internet was still growing, rapidly, but options for self-study remained slightly blurred from view. It seemed the only way to truly improve my French and Spanish was to advance onto university study. But I didn’t want to! Was there another way?

One day I received a text message from my cousin “We’re going 2 Kenya. Do u fancy a little holiday?”. Erm, yes!

As it turned out, I wasn’t going to Kenya, but instead up north to housesit whilst they visited Kenya. Still, it gave me the headspace I needed to figure out ‘what next?’ when all around me at home was… well, no one other than a few friends similarly left behind by the annual migration to university. I scoured the web for alternatives: ‘part time university study’, ‘language courses certificate’, ‘part time language study’.

Firstly, I stumbled upon Birkbeck University in London and simultaneously a job for a petrol station cashier (work I’d previously done – every girl’s dream) very close to the train station on the direct line to London. This was a plan! I could still work, earn some money, travel down to London 3 nights a week, and get the sought after piece of paper to say I can speak languages.

Travel down to London 3 nights a week? Was that too intense? I was inclined to decide against it but still remotely drawn to the idea when I came across the term ‘distance learning’ and in particular, The Open University. This was what I had been looking for.

And so, voila, here I am 6 years later. Debt free, self-employed, and officially Miss Lindsay H. Dow Cert. Italian Cert. Open (German) almost with a BA (Hons) Modern Language Studies flung on the end of that too. It’s too long for most forms so I don’t brag much.

Don’t get me wrong, at times I’ve hated my studies. French for some reason has always been a bugbear of mine over the two courses I’ve done, as you may well be aware.

However, having the chance to learn Chinese, Italian, German, and English linguistics along the way has been great. Meeting fellow students of all ages, professions, and backgrounds has been wonderful. And having an actual life progress and develop alongside my studies has been priceless.

There was a time I didn’t think I would get a degree. I wasn’t going to go to university so that door was going to be closed. I was closing it myself so I’m not looking for sympathy here but to say I was happy with this would be a lie.

I still felt the need to prove that I could do it. But I didn’t want to go to university. Can you see how this cycle worked? It wasn’t going to happen. The Open University gave me the chance to make it happen without going to university. For that I am eternally grateful.

It sounds far too cliché to say The OU saved me, so I’m not going to, hell, this isn’t a cat poster. But I will say that it has improved my life; just as young 17 year olds expect university to.

Studying with the OU has enriched not just my language studies; but my overall attitude to time management, learning, and life in general. Entering into my last course of study, I have already ventured into studying at least 3 languages alone, completely unaided by any form of academia, and I don’t intend to stop there. The OU has given me the confidence and vision to be able to do that.

When I think of all that I have done over the course of my studies: from language self-study to starting Lindsay Does Languages, from long term solo travel to buying a house; it’s crazy to think that the one consistency the whole time has been the OU. I’m not sure what I’m going to do with all my time when this course is over! Then again they do have a Welsh course I haven’t done…

Thank you for letting me share this very personal post with you today. I hope it gave you a little insight into why I big The OU up so much. Here’s to graduating!