As an international student living off-campus near Erin Mills Town Center, most of my time is spent commuting to UTM. For myself and the thousands of other commuter students at U of T, commuting inevitably becomes one of the biggest parts of our lives and even our identities as students, for the years we spend in university. 

We share stories of missed buses on important test days or finding new friends as we tumble onto them when the bus driver abruptly hits the brakes. No one ever presents a PowerPoint during freshman orientation on how to handle the embarrassment of running after a bus and missing it anyway, or the importance of showing up at the stop 10 minutes before the Transit app says the bus will arrive. No one tells you that, no matter how early you get to a bus or streetcar stop, you still might not even make it to campus on time amidst the rush of students and other Torontonians trying to use the same mode of transportation. 

Eventually, we commuters come to learn about these unspoken norms and assimilate ourselves into the crowds that are running to the bus, streetcar, or train, waving like a child trying to catch a bubble in the sky for the driver to stop for just one more second. 

Commuting can add to the load of pressure U of T students already face academically and socially. Crowded settings and long lines of people waiting to get on the bus can leave some feeling anxious and overwhelmed. The changing of seasons compels us to consider new factors and change our commuting styles accordingly. Women, especially, might experience safety concerns about commuting.

The effects of commuting on mental health are like the views from the bus or train windows on our daily rides — after a while, they become mundane and overlooked. But this makes it all the more important to dig into the unique ways in which commuting affects us beyond surface-level annoyances.

How does commuting affect mental health?

My first commuting experience to U of T was on the MiWay bus, which I used to commute to the UTM campus for August orientation. The cool air conditioning on the bus felt like a haven, soaking all the late summer sweat and heat from my body. 

But as time went on, the September rush of students turned my initial 40-minute commute into one that took an hour, sometimes longer. Eventually, I started thinking that there was a correlation between my ability to focus in class and how long I was waiting at my bus stop. The frustrations and anxiety of getting to class on time would make me give up on even paying attention in the lecture. 

Once, I was lost in a daydream due to my lack of sleep the night before, and I ended up missing my stop. That day, I was brought to tears in disbelief over how hectic merely commuting to school was becoming.  

As my years at U of T pass by, commuting has become monotonous. The thought of looking at the daunting line of people trying to get on the 44N bus going to Kipling Station makes me want to run away. Obviously, I’m only one of thousands of commuters at U of T, so I know that my experiences are common among my peers. In this way, I guess I feel a bit less isolated, but commuting can still be awful.   

A 2019 review by Sarah H. Norgate from the Directorate of Psychology and Public Health at the University of Salford in the UK explored multi-modal commuting, which involves more than one mode of transportation. The review examined 47 empirical quantitative studies, 23 of which included over 500 participants.

Zoya Rizvi is a fourth-year student majoring in communication, culture, information and technology; and professional writing and communication at UTM who has been commuting for the past three years from Milton, Ontario. 

Rizvi’s firsthand account exemplifies Norgate’s findings on the connection between commuting and mental health. When The Varsity asked about how she thought her long, multi-modal commute affected her mental health, she explained that her commute routinely leaves her waiting, tired, and feeling isolated. 

“I travel quite far, so I spend a lot of the time on the bus or on the train, or at a stop. I spend quite a few hours a day… waiting for something, and I’m always moving, so I don’t have time to sit and work on a specific thing,” said Rizvi.

To travel to UTM from Milton, Rizvi takes three transit systems, one of which is the more ‘reliable’ GOTrain. Unfortunately, the Milton Transit that she also takes is comparatively unreliable, with her bus only coming every 20 minutes. 

As many multi-modal commuters know, scenarios like this make our travelling fragmented, leaving us either racing to catch a bus or a train at the last minute, or waiting extended periods of time if we miss them. 

Rizvi echoed her frustration at this side effect of multi-modal commuting, explaining how having to connect between buses often means that “nothing is lined up. If something goes wrong and you miss the first bus, you’re gonna wait like 20 minutes at the station for the next one, and then you’re gonna mess up the next one. It’s like a chain reaction or a really bad domino effect.” 

“If I had a shorter commute or worked remotely more often,” continued Rizvi, “I think I’d feel more balanced. Less time in transit would mean more time for rest, creativity, and actual work. I’d probably feel less rushed and more in control of my day. ” 

Caoilainn McKenzie Murray, a third-year psychology and biology student, also expressed that “a shorter commute (or even multiple commuting options, like more buses) would help my mental health significantly. It would reduce daily stress and give me more time for school work, but also potentially sleep, exercise, and hobbies, which would most likely boost my mood and overall energy.” 

Another finding of Norgate’s study was that multi-modal commuting was linked to higher sickness rates, self-reported health complaints, increased perceived stress, and reduced sleep. The study found that greater total waiting time significantly contributed to commuting stress. Furthermore, multi-modal commuters were more likely to have increased “job strain” at work due to their long commute times. 

Fourth-year digital enterprise management UTM student Disha Bais attested to this. “My commute affects my emotional energy during the workday by having to constantly worry about planning how long I should stay on campus before travelling back home, what is the ideal time in the day I should plan to go home before the bus gets crowded.” 

Commuting during different seasons

There are three main ‘seasons’ for commuter students: fall, winter, and spring. The fall semester at U of T begins in late summer, so we commuter students know the joy of having that sliver of summer commuting before the fall coolness sets in. 

Sure, summer might be when the sun blazes into your eyes, and your hair feels like it is about to burn off. But when the buses arrive on time, undelayed by inclement weather and uncramped by the extra space that winter coats occupy, I, as a commuter, smile a bit wider. I revel in those fleeting moments when I’m guaranteed to find a spot to sit, with the air conditioning or open windows sending gusts of cool air towards me.  

Rizvi explained how the different seasons changed the level of difficulty in commuting. For her, commuting in the winter is “terrible,” partly because the sense of timing fragmentation in her multi-modal commute is exacerbated by the cold weather. 

“Getting to campus is a mission when it snows a lot, and sometimes it slows you down so much that you miss the bus, and sometimes the weather is so bad that the bus is either really early or really late,” said Rizvi. Constant transit unreliability creates anxious and stressful commuting circumstances for students, ultimately building up throughout the year as a heavy mental weight on our shoulders.

Like Rizvi, I am hypervigilant about my commuting schedule during the darker seasons. I don’t mind taking classes that end later during the fall season, but during the winter, those evening classes mean having to commute in the dark, which entails safety issues like standing at unlit bus stops. This causes my hypervigilance to turn into tension and stress, often leaving me with a headache by the time I get home. 

The time loss of winter commuting has had a direct negative impact on Rizvi’s academics, as she recounts having “missed so many classes from [missing a bus or train connection].” 

She pointed out a potential solution to this time-loss phenomenon, recounting that she, along with other students, emailed the University of Toronto Mississauga Students’ Union (UTMSU) to inquire about increasing the usability of the 44 Mississauga Road MiWay bus, which goes directly to the UTM campus from Meadowvale Town Centre. She says no changes were made.

Crowding concerns and the hidden costs of commuting for women students

For Bais, crowding is her biggest safety concern, especially at night. She becomes extra cautious of her surroundings, making sure that she does not trip or bump into anyone, and that those around her don’t have any “ill intentions towards” her. 

The unease is similar for Ruaa Haseeb, a fourth-year digital enterprise management student who also commutes to UTM. “My daily commute isn’t very long since I only need to take one MiWay bus, but the experience still affects my mood, because the bus is often full, which sometimes makes me feel anxious, especially if I have to stand or if there isn’t much personal space. That crowded feeling can make me a bit tense before I even start the day.” 

Bais noticed that she would feel uneasy, on edge, and slightly drained when she arrived on campus on a crowded bus. It would become hard for her to focus in class, whereas on days the bus was less crowded, she would start her day feeling relieved and productive.  

Rizvi also noted that as a woman, she experiences an extra layer of anxiety and perceived danger in common commuting situations like coming home from campus alone in the dark. 

That it gets dark earlier in the winter exacerbates her feelings of unsafety as a woman travelling alone at night. “I’m looking back every five minutes… to see if anyone’s behind me,” said Rizvi. “[Whether] it’s a man or woman, if they’re behind me, it feels unsafe. My stations are a little less populated, so the combination of being mostly alone… and [being in] the dark makes it creepy.” 

As a woman myself, I share some of the same concerns as Rizvi. Overcrowded buses are not just a minor annoyance, but they spark my fears of things like being inappropriately touched or colliding with other passengers. According to a 2022 brief by Woman Abuse Council of Toronto, between 2011 and 2015, there was approximately one report of sexual assault on public transit every three days in Toronto. 

I have had the unfortunate experience of having to leave campus at 9:00 pm in the dead of winter, thanks to a late lecture. It feels eerie, walking alone in the dark between far stretches of campus. Every few seconds, I’ll turn and look to see if anyone is walking too close behind me. I actively try to make myself smaller and unconsciously squeeze my fingers and clench my jaw as I wait for the bus to arrive. 

Whenever I have to commute home from campus late at night, I put both my AirPods in and don’t listen to music, but try to seem as if I am lost in it, as a way to be hyperaware of my surroundings. 

Can commuting concerns be addressed?

Over the last few years, the UTMSU has brought about changes to how UTM students are able to pay for commuting, introducing initiatives like the U-Pass, a paid program for fare-free rides on MiWay buses. 

Surface-level changes like these aren’t what commuters need. We need meaningful resources that will change not only the way we commute, but also how our commutes affect our mental health more broadly. We need bigger and more frequent buses running to the UTM campus. We need campus-specific resources to let us know of live updates on bus delays and detours. 

Over the last three years, I’ve witnessed U of T students suffer the tolls of commuting. I’ve also experienced them myself. If there is any way to mitigate the stress, frustration, hypervigilance, and anxieties that are exacerbated by commuting, we as commuters should all invest in them, to make our lives as U of T students easier, healthier, and more productive. 

I don’t want to feel like I’m entering a battle zone just to get to a lecture. And I don’t want my fellow commuters to feel that way either.