Winter 2001
Way back in the day, co-op was a lot simpler. I didn’t mention it in my last entry, but the whole process of finding a job was kind of unreal. I mean, prior to that point, I hadn’t had a proper job at all, which means that I was new to the whole resume and interview process was wholly foreign to me. I was applying to jobs, and yet, it didn’t feel like I was. It didn’t click. Everyone was given a total 24 applications to toss in, but if I recall correctly I only put in 4. Compared to most others who were trying to find ways to get around that 24 limit, I was just apathetic. Back then, it was still before the tech bubble burst. So, there were a plethora of positions to choose from. Seriously, the choice was mind boggling (to my untrained mind). So, perhaps that’s why things didn’t feel terribly urgent.

Interestingly enough, from those four applications I managed to snag 2 interviews. Even then, I don’t think I was really trying to “land the job”. My first ever interview was for some sort of IT job. I don’t know what came over me, but I flat out told them that I was more of a programming person. It just felt right at the time. Of course, the interview was short. They sent me away pretty quickly, and rightfully so. In the end, I got the job from the second interview from the Toronto District School Board. It wasn’t a programing job, but they seemed to be keenly interested in my mediation history. So, I was happy to play those skills up. They advertised it as an IT job, but the truth is, the actual job was nothing like I had imagined.

First of all, as much as the job was advertised as a job for the TDSB, is was really for two junior-middle schools out in the west end. I was just there to maintain the computer labs. Oh, those schools were interesting. One was at least somewhat grounded, but had some less than welcoming characters. I was stationed in the library, but the librarian was bitchy. “This is my hook! You are not putting your coat there.” Great. Where else was I supposed to put my coat? The other school was a bit posh and quite snobbish. The teachers were embroiled in a bitter battle with administration, making for another poisonous atmosephere. They gave me little to do, but expected the world. I was told to take initiative and do things like clean computer screens. Seriously, WTF, you know? I will be honest, it felt a bit demeaning. Also, it was a little bit shocking to be in a bit of an “ignorant” environment. Ignorant is a heavy word, but I think it applies. There was a Filipino teacher in the school. He was relatively young, but not as young as I was back then; I was 19 then–he must have been in his mid to late 20′s. I know we didn’t look alike all that much, besides the fact that we were the same nationality. For shit’s sake, he had a shaved head while I had hair. Anyway, the secretary would regularly confuse us. Now, I suppose I’ll give her the benefit of doubt. It happens to a lot of people who just haven’t been exposed to different cultures. It happens to me ocasionally, and it’s damn embarassing when I do it. However, repeatedly? Sigh.

I tried my best to do what I had to do. I alternated days between the two schools. In the end, I know I gave my best hours to the one school that at least made me feel ever so slightly important. The other one, eh, well…I ended up leaving earlier and earlier each day. I simply couldn’t force myself to stick around. There was nothing worthwhile to do, and yet, I got in trouble for not really doing anything. At the other school, I was at least given the task of creating a promotional video for the school. Oh, I fully loved that task; I was given ownership over it. I don’t want to really toot my own horn, but the resulting video was supremely fantastic. I was genuinely happy with the result. With the other school…I had nothing to show.

In the end, I think I was rated given a “Satisfactory” rating. It was seriously the result of the good job I did at the one school. If the other school had its way, they would have failed me outright. If anything, this co-op term gave me a good kick in the pants, and helped to give me some perspective. Before, I wasn’t exactly sure what to expect from a job. I was just eager to please. After, I realized just what my work personality was like, and what I would and wouldn’t stand for. Of course, those were just planted seeds back then; it took much longer before the results of those seeds would manifest themselves.

Winter came, winter left, and that was Winter 2001.

As I’ve been relaxing at home, I’ve been chatting with a lot of friends who’ve finished with me. Just by the nature of this event in our lives, we’ve all been looking back at our progress and seeing how the years of our undergrad career have molded us into how we stand today. I think it’s healthy and a bit cathartic to do so because it gives you a great deal of perspective over what you find to be important. So, just as an exercise, I’m going ot try to break things down year by year, starting off way back in 2000. Some names involved are shortened to an initial. Of course, anyone who has read past posts can probably figure out who I’m talking about. Please bear with me.

Fall 2000
September 2000 is when it started. The summer months were filled with big adjustments because if I remember correctly our family moved from Brampton to North York. When I was finished with St. Thomas Aquinas S.S., I believe my parents basically though “OK, now that you’re finished, we’re moving closer to work.” All this time, they were both commuting to work for an hour each day. I guess they were making sacrifices to allow me to finish in the same high school at which I started, for which I’m thankful. Anyway, the day they shipped me off to Waterloo came swiftly. Back then we had that clunky minivan to move all my stuff. It worked. That’s all that matters. I was moving into a 4 bedroom apartment with a decent common area. I knew everyone I was moving in with–C, R, and S. We knew each other from highschool, although I don’t think we were close friends in the least. As far as I was concerned, I didn’t want to live in residence. The idea of being in such close quarters with lots of potentially inconsiderate people put me off. In retrospect, I missed out on some opportunities to tie myself closer to my class, but that’s a different matter. Not that we didn’t try. I think we applied for the Columbia Lake Townhouses, but we didn’t get in, unlike M, Y, and R. Back then there wasn’t a guarantee of housing for all first year students, not like now. That’s why we ended up living off campus.

I think I was either the 1st or 2nd to move in. The apartment was clean-ish. However, the matresses were nasty. They were the sponge foam type that were uncomfortable and attracted hairs. I managed to snag one that didn’t have too much hair or blood stains (gross). We were all quite excited to be doing this whole “on our own” thing. I remember R, S, and I cleaning the kitchen and common area with zeal. C was busy talking on the phone, not helping us. Hmm…maybe it was an omen. More on that later, I guess.

Frosh week was pretty great. Though, right now a lot of it seems to be one big blur. I remember I was part of team Marigold, though. Interestingly, I don’t remember at all what my first university class was. I suspect it was Chemistry. Anyway, all of the classes took place in the lower levels of what was then EL, or Engineering Lecture hall. This was way back when there were only two floors. Our class had some strong characters that stood out. I think I fit in just fine. I mean, we were all coming from various locations, mostly without any existing friends coming from in high school. We were all scared, interested, and looking to start off right, so we all made efforts to not isolate ourselves. It served us well.

Oh, but school, though, was tough. The walk from the apartment was long–25 minutes with my flat feet, 20 if I hurried. So very often, I fell asleep in class. I don’t think I really paid much attention to anything. I don’t think I cared too much. To tell the truth, I don’t think the concept of “failure” clicked at all this term. As a result, I cut it close, but I made it through. I mean looking back to high school, I had it relatively easy. Most of us did. We didn’t have to work really hard to get top marks. University was shocking.

In the Algebra class there was a great deal of hate between the prof and our class. I don’t know. For whatever reason, he just did not earn the respect of the class. So, the class started making fun of him, and I’m sure he caught wind of some of it. Legend has it that he once stormed out of class. I think I missed that lecture. I was there though for the one where he stopped and said something to the effect of “Why don’t you start your own lecture? You can bring pizza, you can bring beer. I may come, I may not.” Oh man, he HATED our class. Mutual dislike, all the way.

Socially, I didn’t rely too much on my class. I didn’t live in res, so I didn’t hold a strong bond with many others in the class. As such, I tried to build closer bonds to everyone in the apartment, as well as with the girls in the townhouse. It was rough. R was a bit isolationist, S was…I dunno. I don’t remember too much about him in that first term. C though, was acting like a jackass. It’s kind of too bad. I think we would have gotten along fine. A mutual friend of ours once commented that we were much alike, except that I had my shit together. Anyway, what really got me were the many ways that C was inconsiderate. When living with people you’re not too close to, you have to have a lot of give and take. You can’t just find fault with everything and find a way to take revenge as retribution. It’s almost juvenile. Sigh. I wish it hadn’t gone that way. In the end, there was a ton of bad blood running in the apartment. It gave way to a very poisonous atmosphere. In the end though, we all made it through.

So, that was Fall 2000 in short. It laid the foundation for the next few years, and was really the start of a VERY slippery slope. More on that another day.