CONTENTSVOLUME 12 ISSUE 2 SEPTEMBER 2012

LITERATUREEDITORIALS

PROSE

The Final GoalCASSANDRA MENSAH

S-T-U-D-E-N-TKATIE PARKES

Where We WriteMARY FERGUSON

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Take the attitude of a student, never be too big to ask ques-tions, never know too much to learn something new.

“OG MANDINO (1968)

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Am I Doing It Right?ANNA SOUTHALL-MILLWARD

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Study BuddyLAUREN RABINDRANATH

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Move-in-EveMARIA KOUZNETSOVA

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KeenerLAUREN RABINDRANATH

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SeptemberANDREW SAVORY

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22A Note for NewcomersFIORELLA MORZI

IndividualsKATHERINE BOEHM

A Simple Old BookCHRISTINE NAGUIB

18 Pursuit of Re!ectionCOSIMO DE FRANCESCO

ESSAYS

Front CoverJOEL HENTGES

Back Cover Inside FrontALCINA WONG

Inside BackMARY FERGUSON

Good MistakesNATALIA SMIAROWSKI

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13 Student of LifeALLIE HINCKS

The Last First DayASHLEY NEWTON

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EDITORIALEditor-in-Chief Lakyn Bartonlakyn.barton@blueprintmagazine.ca

Production Manager Katie Parkeskatie.parkes@blueprintmagazine.ca

Literary Editor Fiorella Morzi!orella.morzi@blueprintmagazine.ca

Art and Photography Manager Allie Hincksallie.hincks@blueprintmagazine.ca

Promotions Manager Mary Fergusonmary.ferguson@blueprintmagazine.ca

Radio Manager Katie Parkeskatie.parkes@blueprintmagazine.ca

Brantford Manager Carla Egesicarla.egesi@blueprintmagazine.ca

CONTRIBUTORSKatherine Boehm, Cosimo De Francesco, P.G. Gallant, Maria Kouznetsova, Cassandra Mensah, Christine Naguib, Ashley Newton, Lauren Rabindrath, Andrew Savory, Natalia Smiarowski, Alcina Wong

ADMINISTRATIONPresident, Publisher & Chair Emily FrostExecutive Director Bryn OssingtonAdvertising Manager Angela TaylorVice Chair Jon PryceTreasurer "omas PaddockDirector Kayla DarrachDirector Joseph Mcninch-PazzanoCorporate Secretary Allie Hincks

CONTACTBlueprint Magazine 75 University Ave WWaterloo ON N2L 3C5p 519.884.0710 x3564blueprintmagazine.caAdvertise angela@wlusp.comblueprintmagazine.ca/advertiseContribute submissions@blueprintmagazine.cablueprintmagazine.ca/contribute

COLOPHONBlueprint is the official student magazine of the Wilfrid Laurier University community.

Founded in 2002, Blueprint is an editorially independent maga-zine published by Wilfrid Laurier University Student Publications, Waterloo, a corporation without share capital. WLUSP is governed by its board of directors.

Content appearing in Blueprint bears the copyright expressly of their creator(s) and may not be used without written consent.

Blueprint reserves the right to re-publish submissions in print or online.

Opinions in Blueprint are those of the author and do not neces-sarily re#ect those of Blueprint’s management, Blueprint, WLUSP, WLU or CanWeb Printing Inc.

Blueprint is created using Macintosh computers running Mac OS X 10.5 using Adobe Creative Suite 4.

"e circulation for a normal issue of Blueprint is 3000. Subscrip-tion rates are $20.00 per year for addresses in Canada.

NEXT ISSUEOn the theme of “Danger”Submissions due October 5On stands October 17

THE STUDENT ISSUE

I have been a student, in the traditional sense of the word, for most of my life.

Like most of you, I have been in school since the age of four and haven’t really looked back or taken a break. Even now, as my !nal year at Laurier begins, I am considering continuing into graduate school. Academia has been such a strong in#uence in my life that thinking about not being within it terri!es me.

When the Blueprint Editorial Board decided on the theme of “Student” we were not only think-ing of the reason that brings us all together at WLU, but about how that term can be applied and critiqued in so many ways. "ere is the actual act of being taught something within a classroom setting but I wanted to expand the term “student” to explore other avenues.

We have all been a student to others kindness, intelligence, and cruelty. We have learned some-thing from friends, from people you thought were friends, from pets, from siblings, from tele-vision. We all have those key people and moments that impacted your life - those learning moments. Respect those moments, those teachers, and respect that you still have more to learn.

You may not be the ideal student. You may zone out during lectures, you may not learn it the !rst time (or the second), and you may think it is pointless, but show up to the lesson because someone has taken the time for you.

Lakyn BartonEditor-in-Chief

COVERArt by JOEL HENTGES

The character on the cover is faced with the similarly daunting choices of a student. Even before he decides where he would like to end up he has to !rst decide to start. From there his options open up endlessly and graduating from something with lead to another, he just has to climb.

You’ve !nally done it. A large home and a salary that can’t be beatBut imagine one day it all fell out under your feet

Is there nothing le" to de!ne you? Do you even know who you are?Or have you spent your whole life measuring your success to the speed of your car?

Fear settles in. Your real nature demands to be noticedAs inner failures become the main focus

It’s a frightening thing working towards a sole goalOnly to realize it has le" you with a gaping hole

Imagine all that you’ve missed as your head refused to swayTunnel vision aimed at the top. You engrossed in battles day a"er day

Now, like a ton of bricks the world’s su#ering falls to your feetYou’re dumbfounded at the “troubles” you had as a child who struggled to eat

Or you look to your le" and notice the beauty in natures designAnd begin to think “Ah, now that’s what Shakespeare had in mind!”

Disappointment settles in and I do not blame you one bitYou were trapped in a rat race, and simply refused to quit

But this is why I don’t waste time comparing my success to yoursBecause if I’m not happy, I’ve clearly closed the wrong doors

So I remove these materialistic fears quickly from my thoughtAnd try to be truly happy as an honest human ought

I try not to lie, but be authentic and trueAnd spread as much happiness from me to you

And sure I’ll be happy if I make it big and can rejoiceBut I better be sure that when I get home, I recognize my lovers voice

Life’s a balancing act and a di$cult one I can admitBut !nd your poise and you’ll succeed in ways the old you wouldn’t permit.

The Final Goal CASSANDRA MENSAH

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LAKYN BARTON

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Okay, I admit it – I am a complete and total school nerd. Geek, keener, loser; whatever you want to call me, it’s true. I love learning. I love school. I love being a student. And you should too. !ere are so many wonderful opportunities available to university students and great qualities of student life that it is hard for me to imagine why anyone I know would complain about school.

First of all, the fact that you are here means that you are among the few people in the world who can a"ord post-secondary education. In other words, you are extremely privileged and should feel grateful and lucky that you even have the opportunity to set foot on campus.

Second, you are living in a completely awesome, isolated, and idealized bubble. Right now in your life, you have to worry about you. Having fun, hanging out, and becoming who you’re going to be for the rest of your life. !row a few classes in there, some of which you might actually enjoy, and you might realize that being a student rocks. Yes, it is expensive, but right now it’s about completing the degree – not paying for it. Never again will playing Robot Unicorn Attack/Data Worm/Draw Something for extended periods of time be acceptable (or desirable). !e opportunity to digitally hit on strang-ers isn’t likely to happen again (LikeALittle anyone?). Getting dressed up and trashed on a regular basis is totally suitable here, as is sleeping in, shirking your responsibilities, and eating mac and cheese for dinner every single night. Once you graduate these and many other common student habits are not always taken kindly.

!ird, this is the one of the last times in your life you will have easy and (relatively) cheap access to people, food, athletics, recreation, trips, clubs, classes, parties and time. Sure, writing a fourteen page paper on the implica-tions of Renaissance art on modern culture may not be your favourite way to spend a Tuesday a#ernoon. But consider the fact that Tuesday night will be spent at the Fox, and Wednesday you have one hour of lecture before your dance class, a#er which you’ll meet your Art Club for drinks at Wilf ’s. Makes those few hours typing seem a lot better, doesn’t it? Students have around 20 hours of class a week. Even with assignments, readings and group meetings you’re still going to have way more free time than you will when you work fulltime. You’re in a safe, fun and friendly area with thousands of people your own age. Embrace it. Enjoy it. Most of all, live it.

!e one piece of advice I received the most on the last day of my summer internship was to enjoy school because I’ll be working for forty years a#er-wards. You have your whole life to work. You only have these next few years to stay up all night, live with your best friends, learn about the world, party copi-ously and consistently wear sweatpants. Don’t complain your way through it.

KeenerLAUREN RABINDRANATH

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The ‘S’ is for the storybook summer that has sadly soaked its way into your subconscious. For the sticky, squeaking sound your shoes make as you stroll to class. And for the slippery feeling in the pit of your stomach as you sit in your seat, silently staring at the solidness of the ground.

!e "rst ‘T’ is for your trembling hands as they reach for your treasured timetable. For the terrifying tower of textbooks you will try to tackle. And for the tender sun that teases you through the tingling window.

!e ‘U’ is for you and for becoming unique. It’s for the unwanted pressure. For the unexpected and the unknown and the unforgettable weeks.

!e ‘D’ is for the dumb decisions you will undoubtedly make. For the dull moments and the devilish ones. And for the desperate desire for dreams that might never come true.

!e ‘E’ is not for easy. It’s for the endless moments you will spend exaggerating the e#ort you put into your education. For the excessive drinking and the elaborate excuses. And for the enormous debt that exhausts you.

!e ‘N’ is for notebooks "lled with nonsense. For narcissism and naughtiness. For nights spent alone and for feeling numb.

!e second ‘T’ is for the temper tantrums you will have over theses and theories and teachers. For the tick tock of the clock that reminds you that this time in your life won’t last forever.

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S-T-U-D-E-N-T KATIE PARKES

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JOSEPH BRANNAN

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Even though I’m well-prepared,I can’t help that I’m so scaredBecause my life’s about to changeIn ways that may, to me, seem strange.

I’m so nervous I can’t sleepBecause my move-in day did creepUp suddenly on me tonight:I can’t calm my growing fright.

Tomorrow, what will happen here?Will I miss my home so dear?And how about my mom and dad—Will they miss me all that bad?

Wait!I haven’t even moved in yet!It’s not that frightening, I’ll bet.I guess I have to wait and seeWhat uni has in store for me.

Move-in EveMARIA KOUZNETSOVA

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Binder Doodle P.G. GALLANT

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I always thought I chose Laurier for the wrong reasons. I didn’t choose to attend because I was enamored with the program, or because I knew people that decided on Laurier too. I didn’t even choose it because of its lively school spirit, student initiatives galore or reputable social scene. I chose Laurier because I was afraid of the one les-son moving away from home can provide you with: how to depend on yourself. Like many students !rst arriving to university, I spent the last 18 years of my life living at home with my family. I rarely cooked for myself, and heck, my parents even did my laundry. In many ways I lived in a home protected by my folks, living with a mother and father who loved their children tremendously and were (and continue to be) sensitive to my sister and I’s indi-vidual needs. In fact, it began to dawn on me that it might be a scary thing leaving behind the comfortable nest my parents had lovingly created. On the night that I decided which school I would attend, I had the Carleton pamphlet in my le" hand and Laurier’s in my right. In my mind, the deciding factor was distance. I rationalized that an hour away from my home in Oakville at Laurier was “safer” than !ve hours away at Carleton. I could never have anticipated that the exact phenomenon I feared and was desperately trying to avoid would be the key to awakening facets of my identity not yet familiar to me. It would become the foun-dation for understanding myself in ways that, without em-barking on my journey to Laurier, would not have emerged in the manner that they did. I hope you’re still with me.

At !rst, Laurier’s energetic sense of school spirit dumbfounded me. I didn’t want to be just another peppy university gal, but I didn’t want to be the party-pooper either. I envisioned my future identity as a rigid box in-stead of a #uid process. I realize now that “discovering” your identity is a creative, active practice, one not about social binary constructions, but about approaching iden-

tity construction like a #owing and rambunctious wave. $e truth is I didn’t know what I wanted or what I was looking for. Looking back now, I think that was a good sign. I entered university unsure. Unsure of why I was there, unsure of who I wanted to be, which in retrospect I believe can be one of the best positions to be in when entering a new phase in your life. $e only requirement is !rst and foremost making a conscious decision to expe-rience it with kindness and #exibility in mind. With my bags packed and my family and I standing in the door-way of my new dorm room, I can say that an earnest desire to know was all I really had. Essentially my fears were rooted in the belief that I wasn’t going to be okay on my own, but each of the three years here has o%ered me newfound insight into who I am as a person, a student, a writer, and a woman. Eventually, not only was I okay on my own, I grew in the process of !guring out how to be.

$roughout my three years at Laurier, I have been blessed with meeting girlfriends that I know I will main-tain a friendship with for the rest of my life. I had the pleasure of meeting them at the beginning of !rst year in residence. Note: Meeting life-long friends is not limited to living in residence. You’ll be surprised at the relation-ships you build within class and extra-curricular activi-ties. In my case, I would soon !nd out that my roommate and I complimented each other perfectly: she accepted my sleeping habits, and I understood her cleaning ones. $e other girlfriends I met there taught me how to be-friend and love someone who is unlike you, which is something that I have learned to value for its ability to show you the wonders of perspective. Above all, my girlfriends and I laughed until the wee hours, bared our souls, and taught each other the meaning of closeness, acceptance and love. Without Laurier, I would not have developed these friendships, and more importantly, it

A Note For Newcomers FIORELLA MORZI

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LAKYN BARTON

would not have been the same experience anywhere else. My point is this: enjoy your time here and enjoy it with the people you meet, relish in the moments you share with the strangers who are quickly becoming your best friends, and savor the beauty in having someone to share it with.

In my academic and extra-curricular life, I didn’t really throw myself into things I was passionate about until my third year. I had gotten advice from senior students who raved about extra-curricular activities, and their message was clear: get involved with as many things as possible right from the beginning of your undergrad career at Lau-rier. !is is an important mindset to start your "rst year with because it allows you to see the possibility in every club and organization on campus that catches your eye. However, it didn’t happen all that smoothly for me, and I’ve learned that it doesn’t for a lot of people. It took some plain old messing around and dipping my feet here and there before fully realizing what I wanted to devote my time to. And then, when I was ready, I canon-balled into the water.

Academically I experienced a similar sense of uncer-tainty with my program, but I decided to stick it out to see if anything would change, and it did. I began to see both the practical and personal worth of my degree, and by choosing a host of interesting electives I came across a course that radically changed my thinking. I fell in love with what I was learning, so much so that I added it to my degree as a minor. Take the opportunity to explore courses that not only appeal to you but challenge you as well. Dare to be adventurous and open-minded. Even if you’re look-ing for a course to "ll up your schedule and you stumble upon something that seems like a write-o#, take a chance. At best it will nourish you, be a source of personal ful-"llment, and revolutionize the way you view something, but - well, there is no but. Each course, interesting or

not, has the potential to teach you something new about yourself. You might not come away from it thinking you learned much at all, but I encourage you to look beneath the surface. Even in a course you detested, your reasons for "nishing it will probably aid you in your self-devel-opment on an intellectual, psychological or spiritual level. A$er all, your university education may be about "nd-ing a job in the future, but I think we are all really here to learn about ourselves, the power of communion, and through our many e#orts an important lesson in humility.

At the end of my "rst year, I thought I had experienced the best time of my life, and maybe you will feel the same way when this school year comes to a close, but with each passing year I am reminded the road is long and beau-tiful. I am reminded of the countless lessons (both easy and di%cult) in and out of the classroom le$ to learn and how there is no rush to master these lessons. If any-thing, I have learned that in time these experiences will come to you naturally through divine intervention or by learning to pay attention to your gut. Cater to your cu-riosity. Our trials and errors have an incredible ability to nurture us, empower us, and scare us sti#, but the beauty of it all is that any time you feel impacted by something, there is abundant opportunity for growth. Seize these op-portunities! Although I may not have picked Laurier for the “right” reasons, my adventure at this university has provided me with invaluable insight into who I am as a changing person and it has enriched me because of it. Of one thing I am sure, within the next four or "ve years of your life here, you will evolve and explore unknown territories. But do not fret: there’s no need to prepar-With an open heart, you’re already on the right track.

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I feel like a student who has not quite learned enough yet. !ere is so much to know out there. I cannot possibly cram it all into my brain, despite wanting to.

There has not been a single moment in my lifewhen I have not felt like a student. A student is someone who is learning, has learned, and needs to learn something. I am certain that I have always fallen into one of these three cat-egories.

!at stage when I was fourteen and thought I knew ev-erything? I still felt like a student, albeit a well-learned one. I was the one who people went to for advice when they had a problem, and the one who was unafraid to ask the teacher a question when she had a problem.

!e stage I have reached now, twenty-two years old and feeling like an idiot ninety percent of the time? I feel like a stu-dent who has not quite learned enough yet. !ere is so much to know out there. I cannot possibly cram it all into my brain, despite wanting to. I feel overwhelmed by the vast amount of things I do not know.

I happen to like learning, which is why I am both dreading and yearning for the school year to start.

I dread the inevitable stress.. I remember the pressure I felt last year, and of course, that thought is begetting more stress.Well done, me, for that unnecessary loop of heart-racing.

But I yearn for it because I feel like I have lost a sizeable chunk of knowledge over the summer. During that time, I had some moments where I proved to myself that I could still think critically, but that tower was built on a rusting base

which I still need to maintain. I hope that returning to uni-versity will help.

I have tried to keep on top of things; I worked full-time hours, earning money for my tuition and books. !e knowl-edge base I gained from my job is rewarding, but also limited, and any free time I have is to be put towards tasks that prepare me for my future. So my time learning and experiencing the present is also greatly a"ected.

When I was in high school, I enlisted in a co-op that al-lowed me to take university courses and work as a research assistant while earning high school credits. One of the major factors that made me decide to do the program was the fact that high school drove me nuts, and I wanted out. I did not feel like I was getting the most out of my time there. I needed experience, something I could learn from, and I felt that the high school system was not the perfect avenue for my particu-lar brand of learning.

!at is part of the reason I constantly feel like a student, even outside of school. I am trying to learn as much as I can while navigating through a system designed for the mass ma-jority and not for the individual. It has to be this way, since there are so many of us students in this world, and it makes sense to set it up that way.

Yet there lies the #aw; we are all individuals, so it is for none of us.

IndividualsKATHERINE BOEHM

Over the years, I have slowly come to the conclusion that being a student can mean two things. You can either de-cide to be a student of academia, or you can choose to be a student of life. If you go the academia route, your papers and exams might be more important than social outings. If you are a student of life, then you probably say yes more than you say no and there’s a good chance you have learned way more from your mistakes than in any classroom. Neither one of these is better than the other. !ey’re just di"erent. I am a student, just maybe not by the same de#nition as others are. I think that life can make me a better person than exams can, and I think knowing I can be strong when faced with a bad situa-tion is more important than knowing I can write a 12-page paper in one night. I think that knowing yourself, your limits, your faults, and your strengths can’t be taught in a classroom, but I do understand that a lot of other things can. !at’s the thing about being a student, the lines are blurred and the boundaries are pretty non-existent. You can choose to learn about one thing or everything, or you can choose to read what you want to know or go out and face what you want to know. Please don’t get me wrong - I love class. I thoroughly enjoy learning and I especially love knowing that the things I learn

while in university are things I probably otherwise wouldn’t have. But, at the end of it all, when I #nally graduate, I prob-ably won’t remember the institutional criteria of the public sphere or the central features of a political economic perspec-tive. I promise you I will remember the feeling of defeat, and the feeling of knowing I can pick myself back up again. I will remember every single night that didn’t work out the way I wanted it to, and that’s a lesson in it’s own. I will remember every single minute spent doing nothing in particular but all those minutes somehow got me to where I am right now. And where I am right now… well, I don’t think it could get any better. Being a student can pull you in a hundred di"erent directions and it can stress you out. I can guarantee the things you worry about when you’re a student, you will not even re-member in two years. You can’t lose sight of the things that matter, and I mean the things that really fucking matter. I may not have an exceptional transcript and I may not be on a #rst name basis with my profs, but I love my life and I am certain that I can do whatever I want and make it through whatever gets tossed in my face. At one point, the things you put on paper stop mattering and the way you conduct yourself does.

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Student of LifeALLIE HINCKS

LAKYN BARTON

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LAKYN BARTON

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SeptemberANDREW SAVORY

Brimming with personality and character, and yet nothing but an empty chapter.Here exists anything and everything,open plains scattered with potential for more.

Within the thick of it all lays your beginning,daunting at one moment, absorbing at the next.At your feet opportunity is approaching, bringing with it the chance to seize all that’s in your grasp.

Four years or more if you wish,ready to merge into a bright blur.Amidst this you will !ourish, leaving you in a state of wonder.

Let nothing pass you by,for this is a time you’ll remember.Ties will be drawn, and friendships created,take it all in, this coming September.

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I’m not somebody who can write in public. I need silence, I need darkness, I need a baker’s dozen of

mountain dew. Other people seem to be able to operate under less dire conditions. In an e!ort to understand these writers, I have undertaken a momentous task: to work in and review di!erent cafes in Kitchener-Waterloo that cater to us writerly types.

It hasn’t been easy. Firstly, I had to leave the house, which was more than I thought I could handle. Secondly, I had to overcome going o! campus for something. "ese things took much meditation.

I decided to start small. I explored Uptown Waterloo and found a few places I really liked, and hunkered down.Death Valley’s Little Brother is new to Waterloo, blessed with a great location and multiple positive reviews on Yelp. It seemed most promising to my change-reluctant writer-in-residence.

With an open concept design and an old-wood feel, DVLB is a great place to nest for a few hours and chop away at some writing. "ey serve not only espresso, but loose-leaf tea for those so inclined, and whiskey for anyone looking to go the Hemingway route.

When I was there, the music was unobtrusive but well picked, no radio ads to be heard. "e Decemberists kept me calm as I unpacked my laptop and discovered the free wi#. I was able to work privately but comfortably for nearly two hours before my hermitesque tendencies overtook me and I had to return home.

For those looking to make the trek o! campus, this is a great #rst step. Close to Laurier, DVLB is located on King St, just before Bridgeport. With a friendly and welcoming atmosphere, delicious snacks and a drinks menu to boggle the mind, DVLB is somewhere I know I’ll keep coming back to.

What : Whiskey and Espresso BarWhen: 8-11 weekdays, 9-11 SaturdayWhere: Uptown Waterloo

Where We WriteMARY FERGUSON

a continuing series exploring independentcafes in the Kitchener-Waterloo region.

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MARY FERGUSON

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Pursuit of PerfectionCOSIMO DE FRANCESCO

Just to start o!, I am not a poet"ough people see me as one,Because when I write I want to rhyme every time,And this addiction is bringing me some friction.You. You know I am not a poetBut when I feel the urge,Before I write,Veins begin to pulse,Heart beats to the rhythm of a drum,Which can only be heardIn the loudest of areas. "en I stop breathing...Air is still, body is calm,(Exhale) …then I begin, I want to write the perfect poem,But I know I can’t.Every thought formed in my mind,"e #ashes of words,Continuation of phrases.Formulating around my brain,Surging more words and phrases,Which hit the page in disorder,Leaving me lost. I want to write the perfect poem,But I know I can’t.I get worked up on the words I have written down,"en I stop, with no conclusion.And fall,"e same feeling I hadWhen I rode my $rst bike,Able to see ahead of me"en slowing down,Tilting over, and crashing onto the pavement.Hand scared by the ground,In need of repair.

I want to write the perfect poem,But I know I can’t.I know I can dream of one,Every piece of imagination,"rough the focus of my eyesIn the background of a pictureBeside the future I saw two days ago.I see it escaping me,Slowly.Waiting for me to catch up,Hopefully. When I $nally $nished my poem,I read it over,I sink into my seat,Slowly slipping,Closer to hitting the ground,Wondering what went wrong,Why it is not perfect,Why can’t I write a perfect poem,"e only problem with what I thought,Is not about writing a perfect poem,Because there is no such thing as one....And what I have written,In that momentIs the closest to perfect as it will ever be.

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Am I Doing It Right?ANNA SOUTHALL-MILLWARD

If you could take it all back, you would. But then you think. And you think o!en. Not always purposefully, but the thought is there. "e notion emerges that there were moments – moments that may have in fact made it all worth it. "ey are o!en not realized until a!er the moment has passed, time has passed, the decision has already been made, the papers signed. Whether or not these moments are just ways to justify the experience itself, the time and money and pain and angst and confusion, they do exist. "e feeling in your stomach, the giddy feeling, that you don’t think about while the moment is happening, but somehow takes over your mind and body until you are deliriously happy. You could be #ying. But you are standing. Standing is what actu-ally happens, #ying is what you remember. "ose moments when someone touches your hand, and consequently touch-es your heart. "ose moments when the buzzer sounds a!er what seems like an eternity and the scoreboard is in your fa-vour. "ose moments when you look at the sky and realize that it encompasses the whole world. "ose moments when your lungs collapse from the deepest laughter over the mun-dane details of the life you are living. "ose moments when you realize your parents are in fact right. "ose moments when the idea crosses your mind that everything is going to be all right. "ose moments when chocolate seems like the elixir of life. "ose moments…. they are present in every situation. Pain doesn’t disappear but it can be forgotten. Re-gret is not permanent, but $rmly seeded. Untouched, these seeds multiply and expand. By focusing on these moments of perfect happiness, the time and money and pain and angst and confusion temporarily become worth it. And the tem-porary becomes permanent. Nothing can be taken back, but why should it be? It’s the moments. "e moments you live for. "e moments that go unrealized until realized.

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2120

I have been here for eight hours. Sitting. Reading. Writing.I swear my brain is melting.“Here” is the library, the !"h #oor to be exact, but it’s been feeling

more like home than my apartment this week. I’ve been studying for Accounting for four days and the exam isn’t for another 47 hours. At this point I don’t know if I’m going to make it.

I’ve become immune to my own smell. Showering has become second-ary, and as a result my hair has been in a bun for two days. I avoid mirrors at all costs and am pretty sure I could pass for my !"een year old brother – zits and all. I didn’t think you were supposed to break out a"er grade 10, but apparently the Accounting syllabus was missing some key informa-tion.

Chips and chocolate bars are now considered acceptable lunches. $ey keep me going at least, as long as they’re eaten between cups of co%ee. I can’t wait to eat something other than pizza for dinner. I’ve forgotten what other foods taste like.

I miss daytime the most, though. I come in the morning, I leave when it’s dark – just before I go insane or starve. 47 hours until I can enjoy the sunshine, go for a walk or see a movie. $e only break I allow myself has been Facebook, also known as Family Feud. Mostly these breaks have resulted in getting depressed by seeing pictures of friends who are already on summer vacation. Fun stu%.

47 hours. Forty-seven hours. XXXVII hours. I can do this.Chapter 12…

Study BuddyLAUREN RABINDRANATH

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A Simple Old BookCHRISTINE NAGUIB

Everything was dark and dreary as Julian entered the passageway, wondering where he was going. He breathed in hot and stu!y air. Julian’s curiosity numbed his fear. As he contin-ued on, he heard noises and buzzing, but once he hit the concrete basement "oor, the noise stopped. As if time had gone backwards he found himself in an old colonial print shop. #is was not just any ordinary shop, but a part of history that showed Julian how much work was put into publishing books.

Walking down the old corridor, Julian saw numerous young men in old clothing hard at work. In the hot, dusty, room every man had his own job operating on the ancient looking printer. It was large, and Julian thought the work looked tedious. It was wooden with thick arms and the room smelt like burnt paper and ink.

Julian felt invisible as he watched them work like he was at the cinema. To his surprise, he saw a young teenage boy walk into the print room. He was tall with musty brown hair and looked quite indi!erent to his job. Introducing his name boldly to one of the older men, it turned out that he was an apprentice. Julian followed the apprentice into a brightly lit, petite, binding room where all the books were bound together. It seemed to Julian that binding books was e!ortless, but he was quite wrong. He watched attentively as the apprentice weaved his hands through the thick paper like an ancient Egyptian creating papyrus paper. It took him hours to get all the books bound together. #e sounds of his sighs pained Julian. He wished he could help him and had pity on him.

#e noise of shu$ing at dawn woke Julian up the next day. #e printing room was busy and the men were furious. #eir goal was to bind millions of copies of the Bible… something that sounded so simple for modern Julian.

#e old printer was heavy and working with it was dangerous. Many inexperienced young men could easily get hurt. #e sound of su!ering %lled the print room. #is was what true hard work was. Julian had always taken books for granted. #e looks of pain on the men’s faces had changed him.

When Julian arrived back in the present, he was emotionality moved. #e image of the men’s faces while working was glued to his mind like a sticky note. As a teenager, he could not believe that someone his age could be busy binding books from dawn to sundown like the apprentice he saw. #e next day when he saw a poor abandoned book on the ground, he picked it up, treasured it and thought of all the hard work that was put into it.

22

There is something crisp about the air on the first day of school. A wave of new beginnings seems to !oat e"ortlessly in the air. I watch as the people around me convene with their friends and reconnect with their lives as if they were puzzle pieces. #e edges are so !awless and all these students seem to readjust so quickly to the life of academia. I should know; I am a student myself. And today—the $rst day of school—will also be my last $rst day of school as an undergraduate student. Fourth year is kind of sad and sublime in that way. But one word seems to stand out to me: Student.

Student... What does that word mean? Although mental and physical destruction comes from its dictionary de$nition, I can easily recall certain experiences that have de$ned the term for me in several other ways. So can you. Each and every one of us has the power to formulate and comprehend our own experiences as students and decipher what those experiences might mean.

I have found that being a student means you are hungry most of the day, you are tired, you want more time to spend on leisurely activities, and you want to be a millionaire so you won’t have to worry about various expenses (or—you guessed it—debt). Sometimes it means the occasional morning lecture in your pyjama bottoms. Sometimes it means being home-sick—both at school and away from school. Best of all, being a student means you are o"ering yourself up to the real world and becoming a better person from what you will learn in such a small space and during such a short span of time.

Now that my last year is already here, I cannot truly admit I want it to end. A%er nearly four years of associating myself with being a student at this institution, I o%en wonder what my identity will become once I leave this place. #ere are fears about employment, debt, and everything else life manages to throw at me. But at this moment I am simply a student, and I am like other students around the world who share these thoughts and feelings.

Being a student is more than just avoiding your typical aca-demic headaches. It brings the knowledge that you will adopt your school’s colours—in this case purple and gold—into your own veins for the duration of your stay. You become part of an unbreakable community with your graduating class and the other students around you. Sometimes it may feel like we are di"erent animals simply thrown into one cage le% to $ght over limited resources. If we can look past our struggles, our experi-ences as students remind us that we truly are all di"erent, yet identical in our ability to envision what we want to take with us once we leave school. We’re all just a bunch of hawks, really.

I invite any student who reads this to think about what being a student has meant for you. #en, I would like you to imagine who you might be when you are no longer a student. Who are you? Where are you going? What do you want out of life? It’s confusing to envision, isn’t it? Now, I ask you to forget about your worries regarding the technicalities of your future income, your dream home or spouse, or even the bigger stress-es you will come to know. Worry about being a student now, not when the time to be a student has already passed. Worry about creating memories with the people around you; people who share a similar vision. Don’t dwell on anxiety. Find what you enjoy about being a student and hone those emotions.

For some, being a student means enjoying the pleasures of independence. For people like me, being a student means I can enjoy the chicken strips and curly fries from the dining hall before an evening class, or whenever I want for that matter. I guess it also means I should stop standing under the Aird underpass like an idiot and get to class. I can’t ride that wave of new beginnings if my sur&oard has already been tossed across the post-apocalyptic realm of Bricker Avenue.

I’m really going to miss it here, aren’t I?

The Last First DayASHLEY NEWTON

23

Study Tools ALLIE HINCKS

24

I’ve learned that staying up all night talking to your lover is more rewarding then staying up doing essays. !e slightest movement of hands tracing, of bodies turning. Even his so" breathing is too loud to let me sleep. We rest in each other’s arms until morning, barely knowing each other, and marvel at how a few hours ago we were awkwardly sitting on his couch. In the morning we walk to the Heuther for break-fast and sheepishly look at each other as young lovers do.

I’ve learned that when you’re 19, sleeping with someone who is a quarter of a century old is not as appealing as it sounds. He has a car and tattoos. A tongue that can make you moan. Scars far deeper then mine. He has had 5 more years to make mistakes and to get used to the things he can’t change about himself. He tells me his body is an art gallery that I want to walk around in. You want to fall in love because you have not heard someone say something so nice in a long while. But he leaves your life without a goodbye. A bastard with a big heart for someone else. A mistake named me.

Don’t kiss someone who has taught you. Or maybe you should. You could #nd yourself sitting in a cemetery, just talking, the day before your birthday. I tell him only teenag-ers hang out in cemeteries (they’re always looking for easy thrills) and maybe he is looking for some youth in his life. I’m in the path of the cemetery ready to leave. He walks up to me and says that by swapping saliva we become more immune to infection. It’s a good reason to kiss anyone at least once, but would have been more useful to some of the deceased that surround us.

Good MistakesNATALIA SMIAROWSKI