Each year, a handful of students step away from their degrees to take up full-time roles representing the student body by running campaigns, managing casework, and coordinating events. But when that sabbatical term ends, former officers return to campus not as college leaders, but as students again; facing academic deadlines, shifting social circles, and a college course group that has moved on without them. For many, the transition is far from seamless.
For Olivia Orr, returning to final year Philosophy, Political Science, Economics and Sociology (PPES) after a year as Trinity College Dublin Students’ Union (TCDSU) Entertainments (Ents) Officer brought both emotional and academic challenges. “Coming back after a sabbatical year is always going to be hard,” she said. “Most of my friends were in fourth year last year, so they’ve graduated. Now I’m kind of in my final year by myself.”
Although Orr still lives with close friends, losing her original year group has been difficult. “I was really scared coming back — not knowing anyone in my course and knowing I hadn’t done anything remotely academic for the past year.” Final year, worth 70% of her overall degree, feels especially daunting after time away from study. “I thought I’d have my dissertation proposal written and everything ready … but the job just catches up with you.”
Yet the break wasn’t without its benefits. “I had so much fun last year,” she stated, agreeing that she’s “knuckled down a bit more this year”. With fewer social ties remaining at Trinity, she finds herself more focused. Having been deeply involved in student life for years — first as Treasurer in the Ents committee, then as the Ents Officer — Orr admitted that stepping back from her former central role in college event planning has been strange. “I wasn’t going to go back and join the Ents committee. That would be weird … and rude to Peadar, who’s doing an amazing job.” She was glad, though, to find a new outlet as a producer on a Capstone play: “It was still quite similar to Ents — budgeting, fundraising, events — but outside the society world.”
For László Molnárfi, who served as TCDSU President last year, the return to academic life wasn’t easy. “Transitioning back can be tough due to burnout and the sudden change in pace,” he said. The emotional toll of the role, particularly for casework officers, is something he believes is overlooked: “In the United Kingdom, non-student caseworkers are employed to support students and lighten the burden on elected officers — something we don’t have here, but should seriously consider.”
When asked how he engages with the Union now, Molnárfi was clear. “I don’t engage with TCDSU in a substantial way. The new officers must shape their own direction. I step back and let them. I think that is the proper thing to do.”
“It took more out of me than I thought”
Ellen McKimm, who served as President of the Phil two years ago, described a similarly difficult adjustment. “Coming back to books was definitely a bit of a challenge. It took more out of me than I thought.” During her term, she organised events with high-profile guests including Jeremy Corbyn, Michael D. Higgins, and Jack Edwards, having to juggle logistics, teamwork, and expectations. “You learn completely different skill sets to college. I thought they’d be a bit more transferable. Some were, but getting used to classes, deadlines, and independence again took time.”
Like many others, McKimm finished her year feeling burnt out and left Trinity briefly to work in the European Parliament. “It was the most educational year I’ve had in college, just not academically,” she said. “I definitely gained more maturity, more common sense, and a better understanding of what I want to do.” Still, getting back into the swing of things wasn’t immediate. “The first six weeks were the hardest. But eventually you fall back into it. Now I almost forget the year even happened.”
Stepping back from her society brought mixed feelings: “I miss the community and the fun bits, but I found the relief of no longer managing so many people and moving parts was huge.” She added, “College is more individualistic, if you mess up it only affects you. With a society like the Phil, it’s 24 committee members, three subcommittees, and a lot of expectations.”
Jack Palmer, who succeeded Ellen McKimm as President of the Phil, echoed many of these themes. “Weirdly, it wasn’t even issues around routine. If anything, I had more structure during the sabbatical year,” he said. The real challenge came in re-engaging academically. “Getting your brain working in that way again is hard — my first essay back was rusty.” Having taken the second half of third year abroad, followed by the sabbatical year, he returned after nearly two years away from his Philosophy course at Trinity. “That loss of momentum made it harder. Even though I love philosophy, it was difficult to reconnect.”
Socially, too, the sabbatical year shaped his experience. “People I did lectures with have all graduated. It’s not the same when the people you used to sit beside are gone.” Palmer has stayed involved on campus, now serving as Secretary of the Central Societies Committee. “I still hang around the Phil a bit, but it’s easier to step back when you know the new team is doing well.” Seeing the society thrive has made the handover easier: he joked that it was running more smoothly than it did under his leadership: “It’s cool to see it grow and do bigger things. But you do have to resist the urge to micromanage.”
“It’s a bit of an adjustment coming back, but you get such enriching experiences.”
The year also shifted his ideas about the future. “Before, I thought I’d do something generic — maybe go into consulting. But now I’m considering PR, law, maybe being a PA. The year opened my eyes to other options.” He’s quick to encourage others to consider a sabbatical: “It’s a bit of an adjustment coming back, but you get such enriching experiences. It really makes you think about what you want to do.”
For Aoife Bennett, who served as TCDSU Welfare and Equality Officer, the sabbatical year brought structure and perspective she hadn’t found in earlier years. Having started college during the Covid lockdown, she had struggled to find a routine and maintain academic consistency. “All my lectures were pre-recorded. I didn’t really have a routine — I was socialising in Halls but not really studying,” she recalled.
Working full time in the Union changed that. “It was 9 to 5 every day. So when I came back to college and only had four hours a week, I still kept that routine. It actually helped my studies a lot.” The extra year also gave Bennett time to properly enjoy student life. “I got an extra year in Dublin, which I’ve kind of loved. It gave me a chance to join a society, do new things.”
Socially, however, the return was bittersweet. “A lot of my friends have graduated and aren’t in Dublin anymore. That’s been a bit weird.” Still, she found a new outlet in student journalism, joining the University Times and meeting people outside the Union bubble. “It was nice to be involved with something completely different.” When asked whether she’d recommend a sabbatical year, her answer was unequivocal: “Definitely. I learned so much. I loved it … I’d definitely tell someone to do it.”
As the current officers prepare to hand over to their successors, these stories are a reminder that the sabbatical year, while rewarding, leaves its mark. For those returning to college life, it’s not just about lectures and readings. It’s about navigating a new rhythm, reconnecting with academic work, and watching from the sidelines as the organisations they gave a year to evolve without them.
