Dear Class of 2021
Do silly things. They’re what counts. PHOTOGRAPHER: KAREN WU
What do you write in a letter addressed to a group of people you do not know personally? You can expect articles named “a letter to the class of insert year here” to be a listicle of tips from someone who’s been in that grade—tips for how to make the year good—but I’m no sage or saint. A listicle can’t magic-out a year’s worth of goodness anyway. (And Buzzfeed makes enough listicles for us all already.) So I decided to be more personal in the hopes of someone finding some merit in what I really learned from last year.
I felt that Grade 10 was busier than Grade 9. It’s a subtle but palpable change—it’s easier to get stressed and more tempting to throw a proper sleep schedule out the window. Having done that, I learned the hard way that it’s not worth it. You’ll only compromise the quality of your thought processes and your work—both that night and the next day. You accumulate the sleep debt that causes those weekend sleep-ins (and grouchy mornings). That’s not to mention the long-term sacrifices you make to your physical and—especially—mental health. In the worst case scenario, you’ll be so tired that by the time you decide to sleep, it’ll be 2 am and you’ll have gotten nothing done. It may seem counterintuitive, but sometimes it’s more productive to just sleep. Be brutally honest with how much work you’ll get done and ask for extensions ahead of time. Your brain, your body, and your grades will thank you. For more information about sleep, and how your brain actually studies while you’re sleeping, see the link at the end of the article.
Grade 9 was a great year to see what extra-curricular opportunities there are at the school. A lot of people used Grade 10 to try everything they didn’t in Grade 9 or simply to keep doing what they loved. So if you really want to do something, don’t think hard about it. Do it. It’s okay to be unsure; by doing things, you’ll learn more about what you want. On the flipside of that, if you’re finding you don’t really want to do something anymore, don’t do it. Last year, I sometimes found that I loved doing nothing. The odd thing about it was that I sometimes did a lot every day in order to go back to doing nothing comfortably. Doing nothing is okay sometimes, but it’s much more rewarding to find a passion (even just one) rather than spend all of your energy on a handful of things you’d choose Netflix over. It’s better to quit with confidence than to continue with hesitation; otherwise, you’ll only waste time. Getting cold feet and backing out is better than having lukewarm feet and just standing there uncomfortably.
I feel that the pursuit of perfection has always had a grip on Havergal students as a whole. Whether it’s trying to achieve it, or at least mashing together some semblance of it on the outside, this toxic mindset can affect every decision we make. It can coerce us into setting aside personal goals in favour of chasing this vague image of “perfect” and cause us to compare ourselves constantly with other people. I wasted a lot of time last year trying to figure out the best course of action for things that have no set answer. Many of us, myself included, struggle to come to the realization that perfection doesn’t exist. At a school with so many high-achieving students, it’s easy to feel intimidated by the incredible accomplishments around us. But instead of realizing your own shortcomings through being intimidated by others, you could be celebrating others. Taking a step back to just admire the amount of talent that exists in the school can put things into a brighter perspective. That goes for you, too, even if you don’t realize it. You’re one of this group of talented people. Don’t forget that.
And lastly, you’re not alone. Sometimes your brain will trick you into thinking you’re the worst. If you feel like you need to reach out, do it. For example, I’ve always found that collective experiences with a group of strangers are oddly intimate, such as watching a movie together in the same Cineplex theatre, especially if it’s a small crowd or has a cult following, and especially if it’s a horror movie. We want to find comfort in one another. You are loved, more than you may realize.
Do stupid things. The stupid things matter. Sometimes I think the most human thing about us is doing things for the “lolz”. It’s not really worth it to be serious all the time. If you really think about it, most (if not all) of life is pretty absurd—we’re on a rock zooming through nothingness, flowers are pretty for some reason, and pufferfish exist. Ask questions, even if you think they’re silly, and question everything, including this article. There can be some comfort in knowing there are no straight answers—it means you can’t really be wrong.
So here’s to a good year.
Cheers,
Hillary Mak (some girl in grade 11)