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.