A collage of four people who should have been strangers and became friends
Clockwise from top left: Aneta, Marv, Larry and Kim. Centre: Sinéad

I’ll be there for you

Larry Till
4 min readMar 13, 2022

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Kudos if you recognized the reference and started singing along. It’s a lyric from the theme song from the 90s’ powerhouse sitcom, Friends. Whatever its flaws, the show spoke to the power of friendship, if not necessarily inclusion.

Grad school can be a lonely, difficult time, even more so during the pandemic. There are few if any opportunities to socialize, to connect with others who are in the same boat, to share a drink or a coffee, or just to complain a little and feel understood and validated.

I started my graduate studies in the spring of 2020. At that point, I’d been out of university for 35 years, during which time the world had changed considerably. The last time I was a student, there was no internet, certainly not as we know it today. Now, the library comes to you.

Launching myself into this pit of mystery, I was nervous. Fortunately, I’m at an age where I don’t have to worry about making friends; I’ve got lots of good people around me who offer support and advice and the occasional kick in the rear when needed.

So you can imagine my surprise when, over the course of my studies, I fell in with a small circle of some of the smartest, kindest, most capable people I’ve ever known. Even more fascinating was our demographic mix: on paper, we should have had very little in common. In practice, we became one another’s best friends.

Let me introduce you to:

  • Aneta. She’s a first-generation immigrant from Bulgaria, living in British Columbia and studying and teaching others how to work with those on the autism spectrum. She’s a mother of four and her family owns a bicycle shop. A dedicated researcher, she’s earned herself a place in the very first cohort of our university’s Doctor of Education program.
  • Kim. A self-confessed former thug from South Oshawa, she’s devoted her entire career to early years learning. She’s particularly interested in the role that technology can play in the development of our youngest students. Kim is deeply involved with First Nations, Métis and Inuit cultures. She has kind of a gruff, unpolished exterior that belies a heart of gold.
  • Marvin. The best word to describe Marv is that he’s a polymath. His profound sense of curiosity and intellectual inquiry is remarkable. He runs a learning and development program at a major downtown Toronto hospital; he’s into Lego (big time), and he’s former military. His passion is the study of psychopathy.
  • Sinéad. She’s probably the lynchpin of the whole operation. Gregarious and extroverted, she has an Irish charm that completely engulfs you from your first encounter. Like Marv, she’s a learning and development specialist. She’s also incredibly creative and a whiz with visual arts and video production. Every presentation we did together was better for her eye for the craft.
  • Larry. That’s me. Teaching is my third career. After starting out as a journalist, I worked for 10 years in the public service before my first part-time college gig came along. That was 20 years ago. I’ve continued to do that while also holding down a full-time job. There was a point in the fall of 2021 when I was teaching two classes, taking my last two classes and working a full-time job, to boot. I like to be busy.

Kim, Aneta and I are, charitably, middle-aged. Marv and Sinéad are younger. Sinéad, Marv and Kim all knew one another from their undergrad program in the same university. They had worked together and formed an earlier iteration of what became our little group. Then they brought me in, and I recruited Aneta.

We’ve coached and supported one another through some harrowing moments — COVID, academic frustrations, and transatlantic relocations. I can safely say I would not have been nearly as successful, and certainly nowhere near as happy, without my friends.

Sinéad and I have finished our studies and we’re due to graduate in the spring. Marv, Kim and Aneta are winding down as they complete their final work. We all continue to talk regularly, meet online, and nurture one another as best we can. We’ve learned to negotiate across three different time zones that span the world’s two largest oceans to manage our semi-monthly Zoom calls.

There’s been a lot of talk about the risks and downsides of online learning, and there are lots of those. There are also some positives. I’m not at all sure the four of us would have connected the same way if our classes had been in-person rather than online. The environment forced us to seek out what, and who, we needed. And it paid off.

It’s not yet clear whether our graduation ceremony will be live or virtual. I sincerely hope it’s the former. I need to hug these people and thank them in person for the love and joy they’ve brought to my life. These are forever friends.

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Larry Till

Critical thinking is key to good citizenship. Higher education — especially when it breaks down barriers to access — is key to critical thinking. Ergo…