The first day orientation for the master of journalism program at the University of British Columbia (UBC) was the first time in years that I could feel my heart beating.
After my wife, Caitlin, took an endearing picture of me holding a whiteboard with a list full of “first day of school” anecdotes and favorites, I walked the short distance from our front door to our makeshift, at-home office. I logged onto my Zoom account and was immediately met with studious and professional faces staring back at me. My heart drummed and a lump the size of a snowball grew in my throat. When I finally had to introduce myself, I could feel my face vibrating and reverberating down to my shoulders.
What had I gotten myself into?
Right before I walked into our makeshift office on the first day of school. Photo credit: Caitlin Anderson
Nine months later, I log onto Zoom without a care in the world.
Whether my hair is pristine or haphazardly unkempt, I don’t fear how I might be perceived by my classmates and teachers alike. And, of course, I could write about all the journalistic lessons I learned or questions I had or things that I still think about—such as why CP style mandates that we capitalize Pope—but that honestly seems a bit boring.
Instead, I’d rather focus on my classmates.
I turned 30 just about a month before the start of the school year. I knew I’d be one of the oldest in the program, an old dog among a sea of young pups. That was daunting, to be frank. I’d made my bones elsewhere by being the young up-and-comer. Now, I’d have to keep up with classmates that actually know how to use Tik Tok and think the name Justin refers to Bieber rather than Timberlake.
Yet, I quickly learned that the young pups were just as nervous and scared and frightened as me. And, maybe, just maybe, we could all be useful to each other. Like a senile yet endearing grandpa, I learned many things from my classmates. They were gracious, kind, smart, diligent and fantastic folks to be around. Their ideas, comments, skills and thoughtfulness made my journalism better. And, I’d like to think that I helped them too.
Realistically, the relationships you make along the way are the most important. Though these relationships developed through a 13-inch laptop screen, they made a difference to me. They’re the reason the snowball-sized lump in my throat melted enough so I could breathe again.
For what it’s worth, j-school was much like my 30th birthday. On that day, I landed a new trick on my skateboard. I’d never landed it before in all my years of trying. Needless to say, it was sloppy, messy and I barely made it. But I finally landed it because of all the people who encouraged me along the way.
The first year was much of the same: sloppy, messy and I barely made it. But, you can certainly bet your ass that I wouldn’t have made it without others helping me along the way.
And that, to me, is all that matters.
After 18 years of trying, I finally landed a nollie backside heelflip. Video credit: Caitlin Anderson