They say the value of fiction lies in what it says about the real world. If so, Sally Rooney’s Normal People is likely a reflection not only of the highs and lows of life in Trinity, but of the distance the institution keeps from its most disadvantaged students and the wedge it drives in the broader class divide. For Rooney’s scholarship recipient Connell, son of a cleaner, money is “the substance that makes the world real” — the key that opens the door to an education, a social environment and a previously unthinkable future. His journey to self-acceptance includes financial struggle and a keen sense of being an outsider in the Trinity establishment.
Real-life Trinity students from non-affluent backgrounds don’t have to look far to see a resemblance between Connell’s struggle and their own. Between a tight housing market, financial pressures, long-distance commuting and underrepresentation in the student population, life at Trinity can be a difficult experience — grinding down on quality of life from day to day, and month to month.
A Spiralling Cost of Living
To be a student is to live on a budget: tinned fish, pasta and cheap booze have been a college rite of passage for generations. Yet national inflation and reductions in purchasing power since 2022 have made even this lifestyle hard to maintain. Eurostat ranks Ireland as the third most expensive EU country for food and energy, and the most expensive for alcohol and tobacco. Students, as a demographic with lower incomes than other adults, are often the biggest losers when prices rise and stay high, particularly those without family financial support. From €9 paninis to €6.50 laundry cycles in Trinity Hall, college life can sometimes feel prohibitively expensive.
At the heart of the cost-of-living crisis is accommodation. With a typical monthly charge of nearly €1,000 per month, according to price comparison website Switcher.ie, the Dublin student rental market can feel inaccessible, confusing or downright exploitative for students trying to break into it. Digs, often the cheapest option, are not covered by rent regulations and can come with stringent rules, including vacating on the weekend, kitchen access cut-off times and curfews. On the other end of the scale, privately-owned purpose-built student accommodation providers often have fees upwards of €1,200 per month — an amount wildly out of reach for many.
Beyond unaffordability, student groups have raised concerns about the impact of the housing shortage on the health of students. Faced with the risk of homelessness, students unable to pay higher prices can end up in unsuitable, poorly maintained or even dangerous housing arrangements. In the Trinity College Dublin Students’ Union (TCDSU/AMLCT) 2024 Housing Survey Report, students complained of vermin, lack of central heating and landlords who refused to provide contracts. “Mould galore, large holes in walls and windows, landlord is criminal, can see my breath inside,” said one survey respondent, “and paying 1,000 a month each”.
The strain of trying to source accommodation can also have a profound impact on mental health. The race for student accommodation begins in the spring of each year, with affordable rooms often snapped up as soon as they are advertised. Students who miss out on first offers can spend months on waiting lists, phoning landlords or scrolling through endless rent listings online. The Housing Survey Report found that across all categories of rented accommodation, at least 70 per cent of student tenants reported that their search for accommodation had a negative impact on their mental health. When the real threat of homelessness hangs over low-income students’ heads, who’s surprised?
Working and Commuting
The question of whether a student can cover their college cost of living is often answered either by familial support or a part-time (or even full-time) job. The Housing Survey Report notes that 46 per cent of students work alongside their studies in order to afford rent. For students with no other source of income, the pressure can be acute, with some working over 30 hours per week.
Unsurprisingly, working long hours on top of a full-time academic schedule can come with significant costs to student well-being. Burnout, poor mental health, and a desire to drop out are common consequences. One respondent to the Housing Survey Report said they worked “to the point of mental breakdown” in order to support themselves. Another said the burden of working left them exhausted, yet only barely financially stable: “The worst thing is I can’t take a break from all this… Who will pay my rent if I take a break?”
Furthermore, for students locked out of the rental market altogether, attending college can mean a daily commute spanning significant portions of their day. About a quarter of students commute more than an hour to get to college each day, according to the Housing Survey Report, from as far away as Offaly and Belfast. Beyond the time spent, long-distance commuting is frequently exhausting and inconvenient, with students dependent on public transport that can be late, crowded or unavailable at times of the day.
TCDSU/AMLCT President Seán Thim O’Leary, who was elected on a platform including strengthening support for commuters, knows the toll that hours on public transport each day can take. Last year, they commuted two hours each way between college and their home in Wexford, amounting to more hours spent travelling for class each week than in all classes combined. The effect of these long journeys on the student experience should not be underestimated, they say: “commuting impacts everything from your social life, to your ability to hold down a job, to your sleep schedule, and to how well you do in college”. A huge chunk of a student’s day goes to waste, with “dead early mornings, the need to get home by a certain time, and the fact that you might lose upwards of four waking hours a day that you could be working in because your train doesn’t have free seating or tables”.
Reducing the burden of commuting on students may require targeted intervention from those in power. Commuting students are treated like an afterthought in public transport planning, O’Leary says, with a need for better public transport, pedestrianisation, and other supports. “Everyone deserves decency, and that fight for commuters is a part of the cause we need to fight for basic decency and respect for students and for everyone.”
Access Problems
Beyond practical issues, students from non-affluent backgrounds have a broader issue with representation in Trinity. The college remains the most class-skewed in the country, according to the Higher Education Authority, with only 6% of Irish-domiciled students coming from disadvantaged areas, compared to 30% from wealthy areas. Far from being an isolated statistic, this discrepancy tells a larger story about Trinity life. The question of who gets to attend a lecture, run for a society position, apply for a college award, or even write for a college newspaper ties into the broader picture of who holds power in society – and when people from disadvantaged areas are excluded, their voices and interests go unheard.
Of course, Trinity’s class problem is one symptom of a society-wide malaise. Across the country, the children of wealthy families enjoy access to fee-paying schools, private tutors, and a parental background in higher education – and, consequently, better educational outcomes, translated into high Leaving Certificate grades. A University Times analysis of Trinity’s “feeder schools” last year found that nine of Trinity’s top ten feeder schools were fee-paying, including south Dublin boys’ school Blackrock College and expensive grinds school The Institute of Education. Depressingly, even the sole public school to break through, Malahide Community School, is located in what the last census identified as the wealthiest town in the country.
Whether it’s financial strain or hours wasted on public transport, Trinity students from non-affluent backgrounds have many reasons to feel frustrated. Yet they also have a multitude of reasons to continue fighting – for representation, for quality of life, for dignity. Just like Connell forging his own path, they’re overcoming barriers and blockades – and reclaiming this institution as their own.
