What it means to be “done”

Usually after finishing what seems to be the most important “chapter” in people’s lives they write about it. This manifests itself in the form of a melodramatic Facebook post accompanied by a picture and some caption, “Best years of my life, but now it’s time to start the new chapter”. This trope is something common with University and College students. I’ve seen plenty on my Facebook feed and they pretty much look the same.

Now, I’m not a fan of these posts. In fact, I didn’t do one myself. I wasn’t trying to be reactionary. I simply didn’t feel like anything actually “ended”. I didn’t feel a compulsion to let people know that I had been done with a certain “part” of my life and that it was time to move on to the next one. At the end of my fourth year, after having completed my requirements for my B.A, I still felt there was more to be done. But at this point, having finished my fifth year and returning home for a year, I finally feel like I’ve accomplished something.

The goal was simple: return for a fifth year so I can find a new appreciation for learning. I was fed up with University because I had too many courses I didn’t want to take but needed in order to get my ever coveted B.A. My grades, and more importantly, my interests, suffered as a result of not engaging with the material. All I could do was shroud myself in apathy to cover up the failure of not learning. So I decided it was necessary for myself as a learner to try one last time. You know, to learn something.

It’s safe to say that the goal was accomplished. However, I would say that University gets very little credit. Perhaps my philosophy course I took was an excellent source of very new knowledge that I found myself using sporadically. But I wasn’t applying Early Modern Philosophy to various aspects of my life. That was because it was meant to be a university class that I would take for fun. The real credit then goes to my professor Dr. Vanderheide who had been helping me all throughout my English career. It was him that really inspired a real love for learning in me. It was him that fostered in me a desire to know as much as I can about a topic so that I can apply it to my readings, my social surroundings and me as a person. And that has made all the difference.

So what does it feel like being done now? It feels different. Looking back at my first year I knew where I was going to end up. I was going to end up in second year. In second year I knew I was going to end up in third year. In third year I knew I was going to end up in fourth year. And in fourth year I knew I was either going to end up in a fifth year or an MA program. The former happened. This year I knew one thing: I don’t know where I’m going to end up. That has made all the difference in how I engaged with the material I studied and even how I enjoyed this year as a whole.

Perhaps done is a strange word to use in the context of University. I’m done with the place. That’s for sure. But I don’t think I’m done learning. I don’t think I could ever pick up a book again and not remember what it was like sitting down in a classroom with my favourite profs and learning about some author. I don’t think I could ever hear the names Deleuze, McCarthy, Davies, Vanderheide, Munro, Eliot, Yeats etc. and not be filled with an intense nostalgia for the people and the things that influenced me the most.

Perhaps, then, accomplished is a better term suited for what I’m feeling. I finally feel as though I’ve completed what I set out to do. And nothing in the world feels better than being able to leave this place with that attitude.