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I was once a student at a dilapidated government school in rural India. I dreamed of becoming many things; perhaps a soldier, a clerk or a government official. Had it not been for a giant book fair where I chanced upon the Spanish novel La Familia de Pascual Duarte (The Family of Pascual Duarte), by Camilo José Sela, translated into my mother tongue, Hindi, I might well have ended up doing something else.

On the Times Higher Education Student Twitter feed (@THEUniAdvice, if you aren’t already a follower), we have spells where we ask students to look after the account for a week to share their university experiences. 

Although I was born with full hearing, I caught measles when I was six years old, which resulted in a 70 per cent loss of hearing in both ears. I’ve been wearing hearing aids ever since.

Becoming a paramedic was a dream from quite early on. I was a competitive camogie (women’s hurling) player in Ireland, and we often ended up in A&E. I would notice the ambulance staff bringing in patients.

I am a graduate from the University of Bedfordshire (Beds), with a BA Hons in criminology. However, Beds and criminology were not my first choice (or indeed any choice) when I was planning where to go to university.

For many of you awaiting A-level results, this week will be one of the most important of your lives. On results day morning, you will be waiting at your computers and tapping on your phones to see whether you’ve secured your chosen university place. For many, this will be a positive and exciting experience. But if you don’t get the grades you’re expecting and can’t confirm your university place, it can feel extremely daunting. 

To my college tutors I was a typical A* student – destined to achieve top grades that would open the doors to any university in the country. 

They set the bar high with my predicted grades: A* (psychology), A (geography) and A (English literature and language) and assumed I could go anywhere and do anything. The world, as they say, was my oyster. Unfortunately I didn’t share the same belief.

My first experience of Tsinghua University was during my freshman year of high school, when my classmates and I travelled to Beijing. We went to the usual spots, including the Forbidden City, the Great Wall, Tiananmen and the Summer Palace.

After finishing the tour of the latter, I noticed a group of people crowding around an ancient Chinese gate, which I later learned was the west entrance of one of China’s most prestigious universities, Tsinghua.

The University of Oxford’s release of its undergraduate admissions statistics earlier this summer was met with a barrage of criticism. Despite making significant progress in some areas (for example, improving the proportion of students from state schools), in other areas such as ethnic diversity and the proportion of students from northern or working-class backgrounds, progress has been unacceptably slow.  

Youngstown, Ohio, on the surface, displayed almost no sign of life. Shop windows were boarded up, the shells of empty factories stood decaying, and the roads were poorly maintained. Salena Zito, the Washington Examiner journalist and author of The Great Revolt whom I was shadowing for the week, shook her head with sadness. Turning to her small cohort of Harvard University students, Salena began to recount the town’s ill-fated past.

On the Times Higher Education Student Twitter feed (@THEUniAdvice, if you aren’t already a follower), we have spells where we ask students to look after the account for a week to share their university experiences.