Hey students, drop out of university now! You can thank me later.
I am a university dropout, or at least I was for 10 years. Quitting was the best thing I ever did.
I’m 29 now, and after a lot of living(some successful, some not) I have returned to university as a mature student. And what I am seeing around me are a whole lot of students who need to drop out just like I did.
This might sound 1)radical, even 2)blasphemous, since parents everywhere are encouraging their teenagers to stay in school. But hear me out.
When I attended university for the first time, I was doing it because that was just what you did. I was accepted to Concordia University in communications.
I did great academically, but my mind and heart were on a different planet. I sulked through the hallways, talked through lectures and did assignments like a programmed robot. I cared more about what club I would be going to on Friday night than what was in my $100 textbook.
I did well, maintaining a 3.5 3)GPA, but emotionally I just didn’t care. I couldn’t—not because I was a bad teen, but because I just didn’t know any better. I didn’t know what I wanted to do with my life. I didn’t take university seriously, and I knew that I was wasting my time and my parents’ money.
So I spat out the institutional 4)Kool-Aid and dropped out after the first semester. My parents were shocked but, 5)to their credit, they let me be.
I floated around for a few months, worked at a bank for a year, then attended the National Theatre School of Canada in hopes of becoming an actor. After three years of rolling around on the floor and finding my inner child, I moved to Toronto to become a star.
Cue the real education: life.
I have had successes: a season at the Shaw Festival, commercials for 6)Swiss Chalet, some 7)walk-on TV gigs.
I’ve done a whole lot of waitressing and had a lot of doors slammed in my face.
I’ve had my heart seriously broken once and a half.
I’ve rented four apartments in Toronto, paid bills, budgeted, partied, broken down, travelled and tried all sorts of diets just to figure out in the end that a well-balanced meal and exercise program are the way to go.
I’ve endured the unspeakable pain of losing a parent and emotionally supporting another.
In short, I’ve learned to like and live with myself, for better or for worse.
Then all of a sudden, last fall, I knew I was ready to go back to the halls of greater learning and get that degree. I am now a journalism student at Ryerson University and, unlike 10 years ago, I am actually present.
Things could not be more different than the first time around. I now know who I am and what I’m good at.
I listen in class; I appreciate what the professors and teaching assistants have to offer.
I know that time is valuable and education is what you make of it. I balance life, school and work and still manage to get assignments done ahead of time.
Most importantly, I understand that I will have to work very hard to pay back my student loans.
I know that my degree alone will not guarantee me success or even a job.
My choice to drop out and return 10 years later is not free of fear. I sometimes feel old and out of touch; I have to work hard to relate to my younger peers.
I lose sleep wondering when I will be able to start having kids. That is if, by some miracle, I manage to get a job in journalism.
Fortunately, I know how to carry three plates at once if all else fails.
But even with the downsides, this is right for me.
I have learned grit, and I vow to beat out all these computer-genius 17-year-old kids for the best internships using my own personal super power—life experience!
So…
To the three guys in my Wednesday lecture who play computer games and watch hockey 8)highlights on their laptops during lectures: Drop out! Come back when you care. You’ve got time.
To the girl next to me in writing class who is always chatting with her friends on Facebook: Drop out! Stop wasting your parents’ money. Come back when you have decided that this is where you want to be and that the teacher is worth listening to.
To the student who is getting an undeclared general arts degree just because his parents said he has to be in school: Drop out! You will go back, but it will be different the next time around because it will be on your own terms.
To the super-talented guy who never returns to class after his smoke break: Drop out! Go apply for a small-business loan, open up a coffee shop, start a great online blog that generates ad revenue, and get more tattoos.
University is not the only way. Some of the most successful and happy people I know are artists, small-business owners and app creators.
Instead of dropping out, it should be called dropping in.
So I double dare you: drop in! Drop in to who you are and what is right for you.
嗨,學(xué)生們,現(xiàn)在就從大學(xué)退學(xué)吧!稍后,你們就會向我表示感謝。
我是一名大學(xué)輟學(xué)生,或者說,我已經(jīng)輟學(xué)十年了。退學(xué)是我做過的最棒的事情。
我如今29歲,在體驗(yàn)過種種或失敗或成功的生活經(jīng)歷后,我作為一個成人學(xué)生重返了校園。而我看到周圍充滿了需要輟學(xué)的學(xué)生,就像我當(dāng)年那樣。
這聽起來興許有些極端,甚至是荒謬,因?yàn)槊總€地方的父母都在鼓勵自己十多歲的孩子待在學(xué)校里。不過,請聽我把話說完。
我第一次上大學(xué)也是因?yàn)榇蠹叶歼@么干。我被錄取進(jìn)了康科迪亞大學(xué)的通信專業(yè)。
我學(xué)業(yè)上很成功,但心思卻在另一個星球上。走過班房過道時,我總是一副垂頭喪氣的樣子,上課聽講座時我卻愛高談闊論,做作業(yè)時我就像給編程了的機(jī)器人。我關(guān)心周五晚上要去參加哪個俱樂部勝過關(guān)心那本價(jià)值100美元的教科書究竟講些什么。
我做得相當(dāng)好,保持著3.5的平均學(xué)分績點(diǎn),但其實(shí)我內(nèi)心一點(diǎn)也不在乎。我沒法在乎——并不是因?yàn)槲沂且粋€壞孩子,而是因?yàn)槲夷菚r候不知道還有更好的。我不知道自己這一生想要干什么。我沒有認(rèn)真地對待大學(xué),我知道自己是在浪費(fèi)時間和父母的金錢。
因此我摒棄制度上的陳規(guī)信條,讀完第一個學(xué)期就退學(xué)了。我的父母親很震驚,但慶幸的是,他們允許我這么做。
我徘徊了幾個月,在一家銀行工作了一年,然后懷抱著成為一名演員的愿望,入讀了加拿大國家戲劇學(xué)校。花了三年的時間摸爬打滾和尋找內(nèi)心的自我之后,我搬到了多倫多,追尋明星夢。
真正的教育是什么:生活。
我曾經(jīng)成功過:在蕭伯納戲劇節(jié)演出過一個季度,也出演過瑞士小屋的商業(yè)廣告,還參加過一些跑龍?zhí)椎碾娨曆莩觥?/p>
我做過各種各樣的服務(wù)生,也屢屢體驗(yàn)機(jī)會之門被無情甩上。
我也曾極度痛苦心碎過。
我曾在多倫多租過四間公寓,付賬單、做預(yù)算、開派對,落泊過、旅行過、嘗試過各種飲食方式,最后才明白均衡的飲食和鍛煉計(jì)劃才是最有效的方法。
我曾忍受著失去一位至親那種難言的痛楚,還要在情緒上安撫另一位至親。
簡而言之,我學(xué)會了無論好壞都要喜歡自己、容忍自己。
然后突然地,就在去年秋天,我明白自己已經(jīng)準(zhǔn)備好了要回歸大學(xué)殿堂并獲取學(xué)位。我現(xiàn)在是瑞爾森大學(xué)新聞系的學(xué)生,然而與10年前不同的是,我確確實(shí)實(shí)心系學(xué)業(yè)。
情況和第一次大不相同。我現(xiàn)在知道自己是怎樣的人并且有何專長。
我在課堂上認(rèn)真聽講;對教授和教學(xué)助理所做的一切深懷感激。
我深知時間可貴,而教育的收獲,在于自己的爭取。我在生活、學(xué)業(yè)和工作中三線并行,依然能夠提前完成課業(yè)。最重要的是,我明白到自己需要努力工作才能償還助學(xué)貸款。
我深知僅憑我的學(xué)歷,不能保證我的成功,甚至連一份工作也無法保證。
我選擇輟學(xué),10年后才回歸,并不是無所畏懼。有時候,我會覺得年紀(jì)大,跟不上校園的步伐;我必須努力學(xué)習(xí),才能趕上比我年輕的同伴們。
我失眠,一直在想我什么時候可以開始有孩子。那就是,如果我能,奇跡般地,在新聞業(yè)找到一份工作的話。
所幸的是,我懂得如何同時端三個盤子,如果其他所有工作都做不來的話。
但即使是有不利的一面,這對我來說還是正確的選擇。
我學(xué)會了堅(jiān)毅,并決心運(yùn)用自己的超能力,戰(zhàn)勝那些17歲的電腦天才以獲得最好的實(shí)習(xí)機(jī)會——我的生活經(jīng)驗(yàn)!
所以……
致那三個在周三的講座上,一直在手提電腦上玩游戲和看曲棍球賽精華回顧的家伙:退學(xué)吧!等到你們在乎的時候再回來。你們有的是時間!
致那位寫作課上坐在我旁邊一直和朋友們在臉譜網(wǎng)上聊天的女孩:退學(xué)吧!別浪費(fèi)你父母的錢了。等你明白這里是你想來的地方,而老師的課值得你聽的時候,你再回來吧!
致那位只因?yàn)楦改敢蠖趯W(xué)校里攻讀方向未明的文科學(xué)位學(xué)生:退學(xué)吧!你會回來的,但那時會截然不同,因?yàn)槟菍⑹悄阕约旱臎Q定。
致那個離開課堂出去抽煙就一去不返的超級天才學(xué)生:退學(xué)吧!去申請小企業(yè)貸款,開一家咖啡店,在網(wǎng)上建一個能帶來熱門廣告收益的博客!然后再繼續(xù)文多點(diǎn)刺青吧!
上大學(xué)不是唯一的出路。我認(rèn)識的那些最成功、最快樂的人中有的是藝術(shù)家,有的是小型企業(yè)家和應(yīng)用程序開發(fā)者。
我們應(yīng)該稱之為“入學(xué)”,而不是退學(xué)。
我再次號召你們:“入學(xué)”吧!進(jìn)入到社會中來你們才能了解自我,走對自己的路。