One Friday evening this November, I was fortunate enough to find myself in New York City, on a club-organized trip, in the upstairs of an Irish restaurant. It was a room full of ambience, packed with current Western/Ivey students and alumni, where conversation ran rampant. There was sharing of future aspirations, present frets, and — more frequently — bittersweet university memories. Growing pains. This was a lingering theme that weaved itself throughout the night, as current and past students mingled. Something about the warm, drowsy light invited much reminiscence.
Granted, I am only in my second year at Western. Yet, as the summer leaves turn crisp and golden, slowly drifting to the ground, and as mid-terms turn into final exams, I find myself experiencing phantom nostalgia towards this period of my life.
September 2023 — the start of first year: with eyes wide and focused, I gazed out of a rented car’s window, surveying the scenery that London had to offer. This was home! Except, it felt unfamiliar. Having grown up in Calgary, the Rocky Mountains, that were always a constant landmark in the distance, were nowhere to be seen. Even the trees — all leaves with barely any pine needle — stuck out as new.
Even so, I was undeterred by the cross-country move. The feeling of unfamiliarity actually stuck out as familiar to me. From choosing a non-designated middle school to participate in a Late French Immersion program to seeking another non-designated high school to pursue the French International Baccalaureate program, I built a habit of not letting myself get too comfortable. I liked pushing my comfort zone. It made things more interesting, as new environments introduced countless new faces and challenges to take on.
As for selecting the AEO path that led to the Ivey Business School as my newest challenge? With the flexibility of the structure and reputation of the program hand-in-hand, this decision was a no brainer.
September 2020 — the start of high school: in actuality, business was not at the forefront of my mind. To tell the truth, many following evenings were spent at the dinner table with a periodic table, TI-84 calculator, and/or a Cold War historiography-related published paper sprawled in front of me. As a student, I was pleasantly curious and felt an academic inclination to immerse myself in every and (almost) all subjects — I wanted to flesh out where my real interests lay. However, towards the end of Grade 11, by spreading myself out this way, I felt ultimately directionless.
That is until I came upon an article, from The New Yorker, that covered the purchase of Twitter (now known as X) by Elon Musk.* Not having the schedule space in high school to take a single business or economic course, this introduction to finance appealed to me and led to an underlying fascination that I fed by reading even more business-related journalism. At the same time, I was also working for a family-owned restaurant and, during the rare down-time, would pepper the owners with questions regarding their streamline operations. This was something I previously identified as mere curiosity. But, after reflection, I realized it stemmed from a legitimate interest towards the unfamiliarity of business. And to me, this interest — originating not from academic pursuits, but personal inquisition — was more than sufficient indication that it would be almost an injustice to myself to not hone this curiosity and apply for university business programs.
Today, looking back, I am beyond grateful that I trusted my intuition. My first year was an enlightening time. It was chock full of dauntingly new experiences and learning opportunities. I lived through my first coffee chat — the true rite of passage for a business student. I felt genuine fear when it came time to write an economics exam. I had my first Spoke “bagelwich” while experiencing a gorgeous autumn in Ontario. Slowly but surely as the year went on, the unfamiliar community that surrounded me turned familiar. Intimidating upper years became encouraging mentors. Even the absurd volume of Canadian geese dominating campus became normal.
Now, as a typical AEO2 student, there is so much excitement for what lies ahead at Ivey. That night in the Irish restaurant, surrounded by the warmth of shared experiences and the promise of what’s to come, I realized just how much this journey has already shaped me — and how much further I have to go. No wonder, the alumni had shared such heartfelt reflections — they’ve walked this path before and know just how transformative yet fleeting these years can be.
* https://www.newyorker.com/news/q-and-a/why-elon-musk-bought-twitter