TORONTO — When Hannah Sullivan Facknitz surveys their apartment, inflation is around every corner.
There’s the washing that didn’t get done for two weeks because the detergent was too expensive, the plants waiting for fertilizer to fit into the budget, and the smaller oven that won’t fit the baking sheets—a trade-off that came with the cheaper but smaller apartment an hour from the school and work that Faknic moved to after the last owner wanted to sell them.
“I haven’t bought makeup in a while.  I collect (stuffed) Squishmallows but I haven’t been to London Drugs and bought a Squishmallow for good.  I don’t buy takeout because I can’t afford it,” said Faknitz, a graduate student at the University of British Columbia who works in communications.
“I’m just getting by and surviving by the skin of my teeth, despite having a really, really good job that pays really well.”
While Facknitz, a student with a disability who uses gender neutral pronouns, usually finds his budget strained by health expenses, lately he has been aggravated by a factor common to all other students: 39-year high inflation.
In May, students were saddled with an inflation rate of 7.7%—the highest since 1983—and an economy hampered by COVID-19, labor shortages, supply chain challenges and recession forecasts.
This means that money doesn’t go as far when covering rising tuition, housing and board costs, and buying books or even basics is more expensive than before.  Trips to the movies, bars or overseas destinations also cost more.
Most students are not used to such price increases.  The majority were not even born when inflation was last this high, and those who sought college and university education later in life often cannot remember life under hyperinflation.
However, they quickly equated inflation with sacrifice and stress.
“What’s becoming more prevalent is necessities versus luxuries,” said David Boyd, senior investment adviser at BMO Private Wealth in Windsor, Ont.
Facknitz, for example, started relying on what was already in the pantry, namely Kraft Dinner.
Facknitz longs for the days when there’s room in the budget for small joys like candles, the slightly more expensive Parmesan cheese that doesn’t come in the green tube, or even fresh vegetables.
“I miss broccoli and fresh tomatoes,” they said.
As prices for student staples like pasta and coffee have risen, Boyd has seen an increase in customers, including students, visiting their financial advisers or bank branches for advice on how to deal with inflation.
They wonder how to juggle rent payments with the debt they’ve built up on credit cards or lines of credit, and ask which investment tools to use to help the money “grow safely.”
Boyd advises students who are unemployed to consider a job if they can fit it into their schedule and are not limited by the limits imposed on foreigners studying in Canada.  Saving, if possible, and turning to rewards programs are also part of his recommendations.
Aparna Mohan, a fourth-year industrial engineering student and president of the Dalhousie Student Union in Halifax, said the average student already works two part-time jobs to make ends meet.
Food and rent cause them the most financial stress, she added.
Rentals.ca data showed the average Canadian rent reached $1,885 a month in June, up 9.5 per cent from last year but down 3.5 per cent from June 2019.
A one-bedroom rent in Halifax hit $1,712 in May, up nearly 12 percent from last year.
“We’re finding that students are increasingly priced out of the peninsula, which means they have to move further and further away from the downtown core and the area that Dalhousie is in,” Mohan said.
At the same time, he has seen an increase in students relying on bursaries to cover expenses and turning to the student union food bank.
The bank saw such a significant increase in people seeking food — between 60 and 100 students a day — that it switched to a system where students order food in advance instead of picking it up on a whim.
Many more develop behaviors adopted by Mohan, who counts trips to the supermarket for sales and clears flyers.
“I’m just getting by on my salary as student union president and I have to be very careful with my grocery spending,” she said.
“I often feel like I’m a windfall away from the crisis right now, and many of our students feel the same way.”
A June survey of 2,001 Canadians conducted by Leger found that 45 percent of participants between the ages of 18 and 34 reported that their financial stress is so severe that it harms their mental health.
Financial stress can be even higher for students with disabilities who find that state disability support often doesn’t cover their bills, Facknitz said.
International students, who often pay higher tuition and don’t always have family support nearby, also tend to be more worried about finances, said Mohan, who is originally from the Philippines.
“We have international students who are expected to support their families back home,” he said.
“Some lower-income international students are simply spending a disproportionate amount of their income to access a university education because they feel they have to because it’s the only ticket to a bright future.”