For a while, I put off writing
this post because, for the life of me, I couldn’t even remember what I felt about undergrad. Which is a ridiculous
statement 2 months after final exams, but no less true.
When I think back on my undergrad
I have a hazy recollection of the good times, and a vague dissatisfaction with
the whole ordeal. The first is easy to understand. Undergrad, as in life, is
often boiled down to a few events, a small number of moments that punctuate
through the days, weeks, years of school. Like that time I got published in a
Neuroscience journal, or that time I (almost) face-planted in the Magic Forest,
or that time I ate poutine for a whole school year.
During my undergrad, I fostered
an appreciation for neuroscience and interdisciplinary work, especially within
the realm of science/technology/art. I liked being a student whose
responsibilities, let’s face it, included occasionally doing class readings,
but always showing up for final exams. I loved the friendships I made. I loved
being part of a team, a part of a system that helped me think bigger and smaller. I loved living in Europe
and biking in the rain. I loved speaking in French with people who couldn’t
speak English. I loved going to sittnings and living in a university town. I
loved when laughter was our only shared language. I loved all of it and more.
It wasn’t until recently that I
figured out the root of my dissatisfaction. I couldn’t understand this before
because I was happy during my
undergrad. It wasn’t until I talked to a friend
that I realized that my entire undergrad as I remember it was being clouded by
a semester-long reverse culture shock. My last semester was in direct contrast
with one of my best periods of undergrad: my exchange semesters. Had I
graduated last year, with most of my classmates and before that European jaunt,
this post would be drastically different. It would be waxing poetic on (some)
of my biopsych classes, detailing the virtues of working in
student development and even touching on that little thing called Greek Life.
Instead, I enjoyed my victory lap in some of the most beautiful places in
Europe.
Exchange was an experience that’s
difficult for me to articulate. I’ve described the sights (“I see France from
my room!”), the classes (“I toured Copenhagen to study urban architecture!”),
and the parties (“They threw a TV out of our 2nd floor window!”). But
I came back with a different outlook – on life, on friendships, on school. And
the shift didn’t necessarily come from my education abroad, but from being
removed from a situation I thought was normal and then abruptly being put back.
I came back to my last semester wholly unsatisfied with my classes and my
classmates. It became blatantly clear that so many people had the same
mentality. I felt isolated and confused - why was I feeling this way? Couldn’t
they understand that sitting in a lecture hall idly taking notes isn’t enough?
Why were they so eager to work at some prestigious company - only to continue blindly
following other people?
That’s not to say no one felt like I felt, and
definitely not to say that I am now somehow enlightened and worldly. No,
definitely not. In fact, the more I see of this world, the less worldly and
more ignorant I feel. But it was enough of a paradigm shift to startle me into
realizing that this education, that the student that I was, wasn’t good enough
anymore. Undergrad is supposed to teach you that learning is critical, that
learning is knowledge, and that learning is fun.
I’ve been telling people that I didn’t like being a student – but that’s not really
true. I just couldn’t be my ideal student in this environment.
And so, this summer I’m creating
and finding learning opportunities for myself. I’m creating the curriculum I
never realized I wanted. I don’t ever want to feel like I’m settling or letting
life happen to me.
I want to learn, and live, and love
with intent.
