Expectations

I'm now in my fourth week of classes and the reason I haven't been able to bring myself to write anything down is the fact that this week is the first week I feel like I've figured it out.  I've learned a lot about what kind of person I am and what throws me off.  It's nice to know your own weakness, I suppose, so you can overcome it.  Or at least bury it so deep inside that it doesn't come out until something minor doesn't go your way like, say, you forgot your lunch at home and you explode on the nearest entity.  Either/or.

I had expectations of what school would be like for me, a 28 year old returning after a four year hiatus.  Few if any of those expectations were met.  First of all, the thought of being this out-of-place old guy on campus was completely shattered within the first hour of being there.  I walked past masters students, law students, med students, who were my age if not older.  In line to pick up my student card I struck up a conversation with a cute blonde girl who I assumed was around my age.  This assumption comes mainly from the fact that she was not wearing pyjama bottoms to school.  On the one hand I felt comfortable or relieved that I found common ground with a fellow student.  On the other, the fact that my expectation was shattered rattled me.

American Gladiator 1500 tutorial.

I expected to hear a lot of dumb shit from kids (and by kids I mean teenagers to early 20 somethings) because kids say dumb shit.  I surprisingly haven't heard much.  The only complaint I had was against this third year kid who, in being welcomed back to campus by a friend, replied with "Yeah bro, back to the grind."  I'm sorry, sir, but going to university, learning something new everyday, and counting how many Coors Light you had the night before is not "the grind".  I don't think you've truly hit "the grind" until on your commute to your daily routine, you've envisioned the world being swallowed up whole.  Every person on the highway or train gone.  Everything that made the world go round ceases.  All that's left is blackness.  And when the thought of that - of missing your appointment because the world is gone - makes you happy enough to crack a maniacal smile.  Then kid, you have truly found yourself in "the grind".

CJ will appreciate this.

I had the expectation of structure.  That class is taught in a certain manner and delivered in neat packets of information.  And that information would be practical.  And the information would be delivered into digestible packets.  The course I come to UWO campus for is a component of my MIT program called "The Matter of Technology", which illustrates how culture, media and technology work with each other.  My co-worker Kumar and I often wax poetically on academia and philosophy and before the start of this class, we came to conclusions on our ideas of what "culture" is and what "technology" is.  Of course in my first class, my confined definitions were completely blown out of the water and what I knew was wrong.  The subject matter felt over my head, with no structure of where it was going.  It's taken me a few weeks but I think I'm starting to unlearn the way I think and allow myself to not draw to conclusions.  To forget there's right or wrong or good or bad. It's odd to think that four years out of journalism school that I've resorted to binary thinking rather than not being open to more objective views.

I expect dioramas made out of cans of Blue and 50.

What I've learned from how affected I've been by the un-fulfillment  of my expectations is that I very much need to be in control of my environment.  This is not to say that I'm a highly organized person - anybody who works with me knows that I leave documents and clipboards that I need all over the place and can't remember half the time my objective.  But I know where everything is and I know what needs to be done.  There's some familiarity to it.  When I moved to Waterloo in 2005, I moved in with a good Amherstburg friend (shout out to The Dave W) and worked for a company I had worked for in Amherstburg (shout out to Sobeys).  Later in 2009 when I moved to Toronto, I again moved in with a friend (Ryan Raymond) and not only had the support network of my childhood friends who had emigrated to Toronto, but also the majority of my Waterloo friends who returned to the city after school.  Again, while I forayed into a new job I worked part time at the company that had helped put me through college the first time (HMV 820, RIP).  With coming to London, I find myself in a city with no support structure and in an institution that is completely unfamiliar to me.  The control I have over what I do is lost and I rely heavily on my own devices, rather than asking for help.  The first two weeks were rough, having questioned myself as to whether or not I made the right decision coming back.  But I've hit a groove now...I'm starting to feel the control come back and am finding the classes interesting and letting my voice be heard in them (pretty sure I even got a wink from the TA this morning...no, not that kind of wink.  The wink that says "I know you know this example I'm trying to explain to everyone else.")  The idea of starting in a new place from scratch is terrifying, but could be exhilarating all at the same time.  I have to learn to let go of the control I have over my environments and like my class, allow my mind to be open to new possibilities.

Supplies

In an effort to stay organized, I decided that I needed a standard binder with colourful tabs for my courses.  Fortunately I had a lightly used one at my desk that hadn't been touched in over five years.

I guess putting stickers on your binder is cool when you're 22 and it's 2006.  That's Muse's (then) new album, Black Holes and Revelations.

The courses student handbook still intact.  Is "handbook" CP style?

An old assignment for court reporting. Hated this class.  Out of any writing class I found the court reporting the most difficult and confining to write which, as you can see, reflects in my poor marks.  Plus I didn't get along so well with the instructor.

And what's on the spine of the binder?  Please don't be a Volcom decal, PLEASE don't be a Volcom decal...

GAH!

Perception

It's been awhile since I've been in school (four years for those of you keeping track at home).  Moreover, I just turned 28 which places me a good 10 years older than the average first year university student.

Now I know I'm there to work, and that I'm not the only mature student.  There are sure to be folks older than me returning to school, some perhaps my age, and a large contingency of students who won't even notice me.  But my own vanity is overwhelming and I feel it necessary to mould how others perceive me. There are three possible approaches:

1.) Cool, Mysterious Older Dude - I get a leather jacket and dark Ray Bans.  I sit in the back of the class by myself, always dressed in the jacket and shades with product-tussled hair.  A toothpick must be present in my mouth at all times. I'll try to keep one leg up on the desk if my dark denim will allow for it.  I will listen to the lectures with an expressionless face, not uttering a word for the first 13 weeks.  During the last class, when I've got everyone in the room wondering what "that quite dude's deal is", I will answer a discussion question eloquently, intelligently and profoundly.  That's the first and last time anybody will hear from me, and I will be a legend.

2.) Just One of the Bros - Neon colours? I've got them on my $200 Adidas sneakers and American Apparel v-neck. My NewEra baseball cap will either be a throwback of a defunct team or a current team in non-traditional colours.  Regardless, the brim of the cap will not be bent. I won't be sitting in class because my skinny jeans will be too tight.  The sides of my head will have to be shaved and the top long enough to emulate Skrillex.  Speaking of Skrillex, I will only listen to dubstep and keep talking to my new friends about how "sick" the "drop" is. I will attend parties not to get drunk or talk to people, but to tweet about how awesome partying is in between taking Instagram photos. #YOLO*

3.) The 2000s Never Died, Man! - I go back to university as I would have in the early-mid 2000s.  My attire will be American Eagle jeans either whiskered or lightly washed across the front, Livestrong bracelet, a t-shirt with a retro or ironic slogan and a Von Dutch trucker cap. When I get people's numbers, I'll whip out an old brick of a Nokia except that I won't be able to call them until I buy a Virgin Mobile top-up card. "Vertigo" by U2 will be played on a constant loop from my 30GB white Apple iPod.  When I invite people over to my pad, posters will be up on the wall representing Vince Carter from the Toronto Raptors, Scarface, Carmen Electra and the cover of Kanye West's "College Dropout". When I invite people over, the Coldplay live 2003 DVD will be playing on the flat screen monitor of my Windows XP sporting PC. Jack Johnson will be on the speakers, though.  Molson Cold Shots all around, as I contemplate blonde streaks in my hair and complain about the War in Iraq and how Facebook is letting people with non-college email address to join.

While any of these options seem viable, the reality is I'm working full time and commuting two hours from to London, staying overnight and going to class one day a week. I'm going to be "that guy with the puffy eyes who always looks angry, has a wrinkled sweater and only seems to subsist on coffee and cream cheese bagels."

*I need to mention that as I type this, I'm listening to "Close to You" by Fun Factory just to illustrate how out of touch I actually am with the bros. 

The Big W

Why go back?

That's the big question.  The big "W". To understand why my friends berate me with this question, you must first understand who my friends are.  The majority are between the ages of 26-30 who have recently completed university degrees - some even post grads and masters programs.  These folks are again separated into two categories.  The first would be people settled into careers, content or not and achieved through their post secondary degree or not.  The second group are people who have worked hard at school, paid a bunch of money for their education and now are struggling to find jobs with a massive load of student debt weighing over them. 

So it's hard for them to understand my grey area.  I just turned 28 almost two months ago, I'm single, no house, no car, no kids and working management at a high volume retail store in downtown Toronto. This is not to discredit my life and these experiences I've gathered. Being single in the city and working a job with benefits and a salary is pretty sweet. And while at first glance one would assume it's only a retail job, the friends gained, knowledge learned, and business sense acquired is irreplaceable. But the thing is, this isn't all I want.  My passion lies in media, and I want to conquer that passion.

What a disenchanted 23 year old student may look like.

I finished a two year diploma program in broadcast journalism at Conestoga College in 2008.  If you're unfamiliar with the demeanor of 23 year olds at the end of their college career, let me tell you something - they know everything.  Or at least they think they do.  Or at least I did.  I was interning at Rogers Television and on the radar of some producers there.  I had the travel bug, first going to Europe on my own during the winter break. When I got back, my career didn't seem to matter anymore.  To me, it would take care of itself.  I was good and talented enough to feel that entitlement.  So instead of focusing on that last semester of school I simply gave it up.  My mind was moving forward - with the travel bug, like I said - and I was going to El Salvador for a month of volunteer work. When I got back, the world would be mine for the taking.

I was in for a harsh reality. When I returned I couldn't find any work.  I applied to every radio, television and newspaper outlet that was hiring, driving two hours out of the way to drop off demo reels at studio front desks.  Not so much as a sniff.  Even at Rogers, where I thought I had an in, the closest I got was a phone interview for a videographer job. My program co-ordinator at Conestoga was urging me to go back and do a post-grad diploma there, but I was too proud to go back.  I thought I was too good for it. Which is ironic since that summer of 2008, there was one point where I was working part-time at the record store and living out of my Oldsmobile Acheiva in a Waterloo parking lot. (A very roomy automobile until I stashed everything I owned into it including a mounted Star Wars one sheet that proved to be a very ineffective blanket).

Rather than keep pursuing my dream, I gave up.  I worked a series of jobs - first a retail job, then moving back home to Amherstburg doing odd jobs I could.  These included taking care of family properties, factory work, chopping wood, and digging drainage trenches.  My family and friends were giving me pity jobs more or less (still very grateful, though).  It was during this time and another trip to El Salvador that I realized I needed to go back to school.  The market was flooded with a hundred thousand of me: with some college education competing in a very narrow field.

August of 2009, I was given an opportunity to teach ESL at Toronto language school.  I accepted the offer on a contract that filled out the rest of the year.  Once finished I was working with a friend doing sales for his business. While I gained great experience and got to travel and work with a friend, I was probably the most unhappy I had ever been.  It had been my dream to work in media and I saw myself slipping further and further away from that dream.  I applied to Media, Information and Technoculture at UWO.  The program, I thought, offered me a way back in and the chance to rebuild my media portfolio which sat dated and unused.  But that bullish attitude I had in 2008, the one that thought it was too cool for school (yes, really) came back to bite me on the ass.  My poor grades on my transcript were standing between me and undergraduate studies. Devastated, I plummeted further into helplessness. But the summer of 2011 saw some changes for me that helped turn things around.  First, I moved back into a  house with my old Waterloo roomate Drew, whom I had lived on and off again for the five years prior.  My relationship with Drew is a really easy one where I feel just being together eases everything out.  Then I got two promotions at my busy retail job which put me in a more stable place financially.  Then I looked in the mirror.  After I admired my boyish good looks and dirty blonde locks for a matter of moments, something really sank in.  There's been nothing I've failed at in my life because I wasn't good at it.  I've only failed because I let myself.  I get things - I'm a quick learner and I believe I have the ability to share that knowledge with others effectively.  An academic career wasn't out of my reach if I wanted it.  I re-applied to UWO and had a contingency plan of returning back to Conestoga, tail between my legs, to bolster my transcript if I didn't get in.

This past spring, thinking my app fate the same as last year I checked my online application (which had been a daily ritual at the time) to see if I had got in.  This was the end of May so I had resorted myself to not getting in.  I was actually preparing to contact my program director at Conestoga College to head back with my tail between my legs to start over, which was fine by me.  But then it was there on my screen.  A little green circle.  With the words "Offered Admission" next to it.

I laughed, then I went straight to the bathroom to brush my teeth vigorously.  Don't ask me why, perhaps I believe in good oral hygiene during a time of celebration.  Drew, my other housemate Brittany and I went out for drinks that night. I was happy, excited and focused.  At least until those four glasses of Laphroaig came back up.

At 28, as opposed to 23, I've realized that I don't know everything, and I don't have the answers, and I'm not the best at everything.  And that's okay.  In fact, I love it.  What would drive me if I didn't feel that basic in the world around me? I'm ready to accept this challenge with an open mind, and not squander any opportunity - to try something new, to make new friends, to network, to intern, to study abroad, to speak a new language.  All while keeping in mind that there's never been anything I've let myself fail at.  I want to be the best learner, teacher, and resource I can be to the world.

And that's why I'm going back.