Maybe cliché, but time moves differently within the walls of residence. It’s difficult to explain, but the most accurate comparison I can make is with a Slinky sometimes time feels as though it’s moving like molasses, like when the slinky is hyper extended and at its maximum length. Then it shoots upward and compresses instantaneously, like how every weekend is over in a snap.
Slinkys have an interesting history, starting from their origin. They were made accidentally—an invention by a naval engineer. My coming to Queen’s, while not an accident, was not an extremely confident decision. Some of my friends have told me that Queen’s was their dream school since childhood, and for others, Queen’s is a national leader in the program they are in and an obvious choice. Not really fitting into either of those categories, it took me a bit of time to fall in love with the school.
In September, I was faced with a (cereal) bowl of ambitions. I recall wondering how I could ever have the appetite to finish it all. Eight months ago, there were elements I had not acknowledged—for one, my bowl was filled with a cereal that I didn’t even like. Can you still stomach a bowl of cereal, even if it’s not your favourite? Definitely! But if cereal is like a program, Queen’s is like the cereal aisle in a grocery store. Why inhibit myself from exploration, merely because last June (with minimal success) I convinced myself that I would like this particular cereal? The checkout is still an arm’s length away, but a different cereal is in my cart, and I’m excited to try it in the coming year.
Another lesson I learned was that just because something is in your bowl, doesn’t mean you are obligated to eat it. In high school, I was a major overachiever. If I wasn’t spreading myself translucently thin, I felt as though I was failing as a scholar. I dove into every leadership opportunity my school offered and had to be perfect on every single assessment. Although participating in everything might have been beneficial during scholarship season, once I arrived at Queen’s, all I wanted to do was be a participant for myself. All my fruit had been plucked from me, and I was ready to enjoy the fruit of others’ labour. And that’s okay. This past year has taught me that just because an opportunity is available, if I am not in love with it, I do not have to feel inclined to take it, just for the sake of saying I have it. And conversely, if there is a role that you are certain is destined for you, and you do not get it—that’s also okay! University is so abundant that there is enough to go around for everyone.
University is hard. In high school, I had the mindset that 100% was always achievable, and if I didn’t attain it, I could argue my way into it because I was entitled to it. My year at Queen’s has taught me that your education should be challenging, and the value of what you learn transcends the numerical grade you see on onQ. My (academic) fight or flight response kicked in, for the first time in my life, and I finally learned how to study! My study habits are still eons away from being perfect, but they’re better than what they were. Perhaps that is the most critical metamorphosis I underwent this year; changing my goals from perfection to improvement.