So I finally did it. After just shy of a decade at the UofM I have finished what I started in September of 2002. I have (pending my previous term's grades) completed my Bachelor of Commerce (Honours). Now that I'm done it feels both freeing (I can go for naps without having to feel guilty about not reading a book or writing an essay!), and scary as I'm not sure quite what comes next for me, especially given my medical situation. With my current freedom and inherent need to be writing essays, I thought I'd combine the two to write about my university adventures.
When I had to choose a university/college to attend after high school, I had two motivating factors that lead me to choose the UofM over either the UofW or RRC. #1) Most of my closest friends at that time had chosen the UofM and I was deathly afraid of going to a school where I didn't know anyone. #2) Two of my cousins (Stuart & Wellington) had previously attended the UofM. This was important to me as I looked up to both of them quite a bit (which I'll get into more in a bit). Having decided on the UofM it was then time to choose what area of study I wanted to go into. This was easy for me: Business! Obviously. First of all, my cousin Wellington had received his Bachelor of Commerce years before me, and my cousin Stuart, though he had gone the route of a Bachelor of Arts with a major in Economics had take many business courses along the way.
The three people I looked up to the most growing up were my two cousins mentioned above (Stuart & Wellington) and their father, my Uncle Phill (who I've never know how to spell his name - one "L" vs two, but the last time I asked his wife Linda she told me it was two, so I'll go with her word vs.'s Microsofts Word - and their red squiggly lines). Each of them served as a roll model to me in their own unique way. My Uncle Phill was like the Dad I wish I had. I used to think it was amazing I liked all of the things he liked, but now I can see in looking back I only liked such things because he liked them. This list includes: Guinness beer, Dr. Who, Formula One Racing, and Ferrari. I always thought I had little in common with my own Dad. I loved computers - he couldn't use one (and thought C:\My Documents was an internet address). He loved playing musical instruments (he had a guitar, banjo, mandolin, and steel guitar) - I couldn't play any (and had no desire to learn).
SIDE NOTE: I remember one day my Dad had a heartfelt speech with my brother and I telling us he really wanted us to learn to play the guitar and that he would teach us as he had always wanted to do. I could hear the sadness in his voice in that his own children didn't share the passion for playing music that he had, and that he would likely never even have the chance to teach us that passion. I remember wondering how hard it must be for parents to have kids who don't connect with them on such a level.
For all of the things I didn't share with my Dad, I can now see how similar we were. My Dad loved people. He was a caretaker at Pleasantview Lodge in Cook's Creek for many years, in part because our family needed the money, but I think in part because my Dad loved talking to people (especially old people). He would go and hang out for hours with some of the tenants and thoroughly enjoyed his time there. I have a similar love of people myself. He had an amazing sense of humour and could always tell a joke at the right time. He told me once the best way to break the ice with someone was to tell a good joke. I think I learned that skill from him. He was a good man who was a great father to me and I don't regret anything that occurred between us over the years. As that teenager I thought "Why can't my Dad like the things I like and be more like my Uncle Phill?" But words of wisdom (I believe from my cousin Stuart) put it into perspective for me. Essentially he told me that had I grown up with Phill as my Dad, I'd have a list of reasons to dislike him, and perhaps even wish I had Uncle Walter as my own Dad. I think that has a lot of truth in it. I was lucky to have Walter as my Dad, and to have Phill as my Uncle, so that I could learn important lessons from my Dad, and have an uncle I could look up to, admire, and model myself after.
My cousins I look up to more than anyone else in the world. I remember in grade 6 we had to fill out a paper where one question asked "Who are your role models?" to which I answered "My cousin Stuart and Mr. Forest" (as I was a suck-up and my teacher's name that year was Mr. Forest... though he was one of the coolest teachers I had over the years - I think Mr. Humphries still comes in #1). Stuart was just such a cool guy. He was the one who taught me how to drive a stick shift while holding a Slurpee and driving with your knees... essential skills for any teenager in Manitoba. I remember going to countless hockey games to see my cousin Stuart play. Those were some of the best times I remember growing up. Sitting in the stands with hot chocolate in a styrofoam cup, a bag of dill pickle chips, and Monchichi there to watch with us. Eventually when Therressa would bring Alex into our family, I think I might have played more with Monchichi (aka: Sekigu-hockey) than I spent watching the games, though both were a good time. My cousin played in the MJHL for the Winnipeg South Blues. I remember having arguments in school with people. I swore my cousin had played in the NHL! He had the St. Louis Blues symbol on his jersey and everything!!! I was wrong, but it didn't make watching him play any less exciting. Stuart was definitely my "cool" role model.
For my "professional" role model I used Stuart's brother Wellington Holbrook. He was the man I wanted to be just like. He seemed to know everything about politics and world events. I remember going into my Grandma's basement in the days of Dowling Ave E., and seeing the entire wall of binders and textbooks (marked 9.111, etc.) and thought it amazing that my cousin Wellington could know so much and have learned all of what I saw before me. I had to do the same so I could be as smart and successful as he was. I also remember one time going downstairs at my Grandma's (where Wellington lived at the time) and going through his room. I flipped through his CD's and other things. I recall Wellington had come home and politely asked my brother, sister and I to please leave his room. I could tell he was ticked off, as I would have been had my little cousins invaded my privacy, but I think I simply wanted to see how he lived so I could be more like him. I watched as he rose through the ranks at the BDC wearing suits and ties and making impressive speeches. He was definitely what I wanted to be. Going back to family gatherings as a child I remember sitting at the table while Wellington and Phill had ongoing political discussions that I only wished I could take part in. I was lucky enough to sit there and take it all in.
So this is why I chose to enter the world of business. That, and I felt little passion towards anything else. Plus business education would lead to a good job right? I didn't even have a strong inner passion for business. I just wanted to be like the people mentioned above. This was a problem. My first real year in business (after University1) things started to go wrong. I didn't have the passion needed to succeed at a university level and I wasn't enjoying myself. My grades suffered and by the second term I started to actually fail courses. My GPA for that year was a solid 2.33. I remember a speech by a prof that made it clear to me what I needed to do. I'll paraphrase slightly, but it was something like this:
"In business there are really two areas, money/numbers and people. We look at financial statements such as balance sheets, income statements, and cash flow statements. We see what the market cap of a firm is. On the other hand we have organizational behaviour and human resources that look more at the people side. This course is all about the money/numbers! You'll find that most of what you'll learn here at Asper is about the money/numbers."
I wanted to leave right then and there. I didn't care about the money or the numbers. I cared about the people! I ended up failing that class (which I believe was management science) as well as corporate finance, statistics II, and pulled off a "D" in financial accounting. It wasn't that I couldn't do the work, I just didn't care enough to do the work. After such a dismal year you'd think I'd have left for another faculty. Unfortunately I still felt compelled to finish my business degree, so I attempted (half-heartedly) one more failed attempt where I failed all but managerial accounting (also with a "D") and walked away with a 1.0 GPA for that year. In some self-defence this was the first year of school after my Dad had passed away and my mind wasn't as focused as it could have been. I considered dropping out of school entirely thinking it just wasn't for me. My Mom said to me it would have been really important to my Dad to have his son finish university, so I decided I had to return. Instead of trying a 3rd failed attempt at business I asked myself what I wanted to do. I loved people, but hated numbers. I chose to move to the faculty of arts to take courses in psychology (with a minor in politics). My grades in this area (just to brag) were: C+, A, A, A+, A, A, A+, A, A+, A, A+. The C+ was my intro to politics course where I slept through the midterm, so I like to think that one isn't representative of what I could have gotten. I had found my passion and thus school no longer seemed like work. I received my Bachelor of Arts, but somehow it didn't seem like I had finished. I still wanted that Bachelor of Commerce. Plus what does a B.A. with a major in psychology get you? To make something like that work out I think I would have been like my good friend Mark and taken it to the next level where scary things like "thesis's" lurk. So back to business I went.
Luckily I was more motivated this time, and the courses I had left were less number focused than some of my previous ones had been. I continued to plough through with the following grades (again because I want to brag): A, A, A, A, A, A, A, B (darn you corporate finance!), A+, A, A+, A+, A+, A+. Then I had this thing where I entered the hospital for a while and they cut my head open. This affected my grades for that term slightly and so I walked away with 3 B+'s and an A. The four courses I just completed are TBA, but I'm proud of the fact that I managed to take my (at one point) 2.68 GPA up to a 3.52 by the end of last term. I see no reason why I won't pass the 4 I just finished and as such am looking forward to receiving my final degree and walking out into the real world for the first time. I could write in detail a blog about "So I finally finished school but have terminal brain cancer... what the hell do I do now?" but I'll save that for another day. Right now I'm just going to enjoy myself.
--
Tom
PS: The whole Bachelor of Arts may not have lead to a job, but it did lead to my lovely fiancé Nicole and a lifelong friend in Mark, so I consider it a glaring success!
PS#2: CHEERS!!!
PS#3: I'm not bothering to look for spelling/grammatical errors. Please feel free to point them out to me. Cheers again.
No comments:
Post a Comment