After almost one month of school, this is all I have learned

Uniqueness.

Humanity's downfall.

The reason why people love children so much is that they are innocent, smiley, chubby-cheeked and precocious. They may be predictable in some aspects, but they're also still so fresh and new. They retain their uniqueness if only because they are not aware of it yet.

Living in a dorm and being constantly surrounded by girls and guys that are the same generation as me, have experienced many of the same personal and world events as I have and generally function on the same brain wavelength as I do causes me to be hyperaware (and protective) of my surroundings. This observation only makes me more confident in my theory that school is an institution that has the main goal of assimilating all people to become the same person. All it the evidence I need is to look at the progression that takes place from start elementary school to the end of high school and if you are --I hasten to say it-- lucky enough, post-secondary institutions.

This is probably my Sociology and English class talking, as they have both been discourses on psychology and criticism lately. Regardless of where these observations are stemming from, the outcome remains that I am more and more disillusioned with each weekend floor party, each fundraiser BBQ, each elevator ride up two stories. It seems that the more I look at my peers, the more I realize how similar I am to the person four seats away; or the girl down the hall; or the fourth year boy in my french class. I do not mean that we are similar in how we dress -- though the sheer volume of Ugg knockoffs I see each day is astounding-- or how we speak or what we do. More or less, I realize how similar my thoughts are to those around me. It all makes perfect sense that I feel this way, as these kids have all led the exact same life (give or take their country of origin, or their first language, or their food preferences) that I have. In essence, they are me whether they are bigger, smaller, taller, stronger, darker or lighter than I am. Most of us took some sort of AP or IB class, we were all on the honour roll, we all were involved in our high school in some way or another, most likely has star athletes or student council types.

It's a weird sensation, realizing just how un-unique everyone is. Or at least how un-inventive you are in relation to those around you, the kids you used to categorize and judge accordingly. It isn't my choice either, this assimilation (although is assimilation ever a choice?), and yet when you close one eye and lean forward into the magnifying glass, it is easy to see how it happened, how we all became...the same: school, as a primary institution in most kids' lives, pushes students to assert their positive qualities, to discover and develop their interests, intellects, and strengths. The problem lies in the fact that because most schools are so limited in what they have to offer students most kids develop similar interests and hobbies, and only hang around kids with those similar attributes. It's all well and good until one day you look around and notice that everyone around you is...you.

Again, I am definitely not talking about the fact that people grasp onto trends and no matter what social status, the trend eventually makes its way through 90% of the student body. Theoretically, everyone will eventually own a piece of Lulu Lemon, girls and guys. Trends are just a matter of permeation. School, however, is the factory where all that athletica is made: it churns out the same eggplant-coloured sweater beside the teal-coloured version, and even though you may not choose the purple one in the store, you are still buying the product, incorporating yourself (unwittingly, unknowingly) into a system of similarity. Completely and utterly disillusioning and so it goes.

"You have a pillow case that your friends all signed before you left? Me too!"
"The Time Traveler's Wife is your favourite book too?! Weird."
"Hey, you used to work at Starbucks too? Awesome!"

[All real examples that mildly to moderately chipped away at my personality.]

Jessica Darling put it so well in Charmed Thirds when she was talking about how, in college or uni, one can walk into a room where each guy is used to being the funniest, most witty person in their school, so they all try and out-wit and out-humour the others. It is so classic. And sad.

Since I've arrived at UBC I have used this both to my comfort and displeasure. Finding out that someone else in from Edmonton (or anywhere in Alberta) makes me feel a bit more secure in my loneliness, and a bit more connected to home. Sometimes, however, I meet someone from back home and think about how selfish I was in thinking I was the only person that wanted out of Alberta. Not to mention how stupid.

Perhaps going through university is the true test of how you are going to establish yourself from the rest of the people in this world. Certainly the premise of faculties is to distinguish one group of people from another, but within that faculty, can you ever really stand out? Are you supposed to stand out?

It isn't like I feel anonymous. That isn't the goal of going to school and it never should be the outcome. Instead I feel...underappreciated. Yet there is no reason why I should feel appreciated at all. I paid my dues in high school just like all the other people here. That's why we're here in the first place. So no matter how many student clubs I was in, how distinct I tried to make myself feel in grade 12, I'm no more or less of an established student here, right now.

It's just weird, that's all. Being around people that could be you, give or take the length of their hair? It's freaky, really.

I know I am not the only person to see this. In fact, this is probably -- no, definitely-- a standard thought process for most first years. And the fact that I am writing my observation/manifesto in a blog? That's just tacky.