School daze
How to survive the first-year university roller-coaster ride
Every year about this time thousands of young people prepare to head off for the greatest adventure of their lives.
A ride on the giant roller-coaster at Canada’s Wonderland while high on medical marijuana. Just kidding. They’re actually preparing to go away for their first year of university.
Which, when you come to think about it, is not all that different from the Canada’s Wonderland thing.
But in any case, many of these exuberant teenagers are seeking advice about their foray into undergraduate university studies. And by many, I mean “none” since every teenager I have ever met already knows everything and wouldn’t listen to a parent or any other old geezer even if the rear of their jeans was in flames and you were standing there holding a fire extinguisher. You: “Care for a spray?” Them (feigning boredom while smoke billows around them): “Whatever.”
I know this from personal experience because I tried it with my daughter a few years ago when she was heading off to Montreal for school.
“You know, honey,” I said gently. “I actually went to university and might have a few tips for you.”
“Oh god Dad, that was like a million years ago. You didn’t even have computers, right?” “Well, yes that is right, but …” “Ha, ha, ha …You kill me. What, did you write on clay tablets? Did everyone carry around papyrus rolls and wear togas? Ha, ha. Ha …” (Leaves room wiping away tears.)
I would have admitted that the toga part was at least kind of accurate, since the mid-70s was the apex of Toga Party madness, but those stories were better left untold, now that I think about it.
So since none of the young people in my extended family will listen to me, I’ve decided to do what all parents my age do, just walk around the house talking to myself. Dear First-Year Student: You are on the cusp of one of the most amazing experiences of your life. Frosh Week. Again, just kidding, although that can be quite something — a bit like marine boot camp crossed with Mardi Gras, but with more throwing up.
No, you have been given the wonderful opportunity of spending your parents’ hard-earned money, sorry, I mean spending the next four years learning about culture, art, science, history and politics. Some of that may even happen at school.
To make the most of it and to prevent your parents from becoming eternally bitter about the vacations they missed and the lousy, old cars they had to drive to save for your education (not me, of course, I really enjoy driving a dented 2009 Impala that makes me look like an undercover police officer. I do.) please do the following:
1. Go to class. That’s right. Actually go to your lectures. If your parents wanted you to sit around playing video games and eating Doritos, they would have left you in your room.
2. Go to class. Yes, I’m saying it again. Woody Allen once said that “80 per cent of success is showing up.” He was right. The online video, the class slides, your friend’s notes, are no substitute for actually listening to a living, smart person, even if they are wearing a really bad sports jacket.
3. Be there. If you are in the lecture, then BE in the lecture. Don’t be on your cellphone texting your pal about last night’s bong party. Forget Facebook Snapchat and Instagram for 45 minutes. They’ll be there when you get out of class. Trust me. And forget tweeting funny comments about the prof on Twitter. No one is reading your feed anyway.
4. Try actually READING the readings. I know, it’s “Totally pages and pages of, like, words,” with no video clips or music or anything. Dude, it’s so, like, boring. I know, but if you actually take some time and read the stuff, you might discover that it’s full of “ideas” and that can be a thrill. Not like shotgunning a tallboy of Molson Ice, but a thrill nonetheless. And, usually, you don’t barf later.
5. Have fun. Of course, have fun. But if fun is all you want, the trip to Wonderland is a lot cheaper. And you’ll probably barf anyway.
Woody Allen once said that ‘80 per cent of success is showing up.’ He was right.