It’s the day after Labour Day, and for the first time since I moved out to Western Canada, the school year is starting today. Normally it starts the week before Labour Day for some strange reason.
But not this year.
And I’m also not going to go on about how this place is different than home.
Instead, I’ve been doing some thinking. Like every September since I graduated in June 2009, it does feel strange not to be returning to school. I’ve done the math before, but I’ll present the numbers again — I started school in the fall of 1990 and it wasn’t until the fall of 2009 for me not to be going to school.
In other words, I entered a school for some form of learning every September for 19 Septembers. I’m only 26. It’s going to take until I’m 38 before I will have spent more than half my life out of school. For the sake of argument, we’ll ignore that K-OAC and university were only 10 and eight months of the year, respectively.
My point is September, for whatever reason, always has this feeling of a new beginning. Even for those of us for whom it really isn’t. I guess when you see these young people walking, biking, busing or driving to school for a new year of learning, you can’t help think back to your days of doing the same. Especially when those years were only four years ago.
For me, it’s actually at the point where I am considering making a trip up to Ottawa when I go home in December. Will I actually manage to pull it off? Not likely, to be honest. But it would be nice. I would like to see what Carleton is looking like these days.
Maybe even hit on some first years. Or second years. Or any years, for that matter.
Nah, not going to happen.