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This was published 1 year ago

Opinion

Hey school-leavers, ignore your parents. Take a gap year

To gap year or not to gap year? That’s not even a question if you ask me.

It’s that time of year when senior school students sit their final exams and hang up their laptops. Another cohort full of enthusiasm for life beyond school. Remember hopes and dreams? Here’s my message to senior students across the country – cancel your plans and go on a gap year.

Lizzy Hoo learning to snowboard in Japan during her gap year.

Lizzy Hoo learning to snowboard in Japan during her gap year.

Apologies to all the parents who might think a year off is a waste of time, especially the ones who forked out tens of thousands of dollars on an education – I’m sure the last thing you want is to see your 13-year investment visit an ashram in India or dig holes in Cambodia. Hear me out – the commerce degree can wait. In the scheme of things, a year’s break will be worth so much more than enrolling in a course they’re just not that into.

Which is exactly what I did. I got into accounting when I left school. I started it, I hated it, I quit it. My debits never equalled credits and after a semester of almost failing and a lot of cheating (it was very easy to do in 2002), I decided, much to my parents’ concern, to pause university education and take eight months off because I had some growing up to do.

I worked two jobs, saved up some cash, bought a flight to the United States, arrived with less than $US400 ($620) and a very convincing fake ID. A friend got me a job in a restaurant at the top of a mountain in Colorado where I served plate-sized steaks, bloody Marys and feigned an interest in Steve Irwin at every table I waited on. “Wow, you’re an Aussie? We love Steve Irwin!” … “Me too!” … now tip me.

Believe me, the commerce degree can wait.

Believe me, the commerce degree can wait.

I learnt to snowboard (a great life skill), got wildly drunk most nights (not a great life skill), made enough money in tips to occasionally bail friends out of jail, travel around the country and experience a couple of full-moon parties on the way home. By the time I arrived back in Australia, I was more focused than before and switched university courses to something I kind-of enjoyed.

But aren’t you a comedian? Yes, I changed careers in my late 30s. I’m all for the sabbatical, too, which is basically a gap year but for when you have a mid-life crisis.

Arguably, the high-schoolers graduating now are the most in-touch generation to ever leave school. They grew up with so much internet (we had to make do with MSN messenger and Napster). They’ve just been through a pandemic, and they’re very open about their feelings … maybe a little too much.

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But I still think a year out from formal education and discovering what excites and drives you is invaluable. Unless you’re one of those kids who know exactly what they want to do, like my friend who has only ever had two jobs – stacking fruit at Coles and now partner at Ernst and Young.

There’s a lot of privilege that comes with taking a gap year. I acknowledge there was always a bed at my parents’ place, I didn’t have to provide for my family, and I lived in the city with access to education and employment. So saving money while I lived at home was an option for me. Not everyone has a dad who would pick them up from anywhere you asked. His limit was 1am, and I made a lot of 12.30am calls.

University is such an expensive option as well. A year off to decide whether you want to commit to that kind of debt could save you so much money. I have loads of friends who are still paying off HELP/HECS debts for courses they never finished. It’s debt that only starts to feel real when you see it coming out of your pay cheque. University costs at least $15,000 a year now (my whole course cost $15,000). You could backpack around South-East Asia for at least six months with that kind of cash.

If you can take a gap year – do it! Work, save some money, go overseas, enrol in a scuba diving course, volunteer, work in an English pub and come back with an accent, be a nanny, go fruit-picking, visit the Whitsundays and tour guide, do a ski season. There are so many options, and I’m all for them.

And if you need encouragement or ideas – and you’re not getting it from your parents – slide into my DMs, and I’ll tell you to go for it.

Lizzy Hoo is a stand-up comedian, writer, actor and presenter.

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Original URL: https://www.smh.com.au/link/follow-20170101-p5efod