Beginning my second year of university was like having a middle child. Prior to entering, I thought that having already had a year of school under my belt, being a sophomore would mean a more mature, sophisticated me ready to tackle all that U of T could throw at me.
I feel no more mature or sophisticated or knowledgable. I still gawk slightly when people speak up in huge lectures, I still have a fear of talking to professors (who seem no less superior and scary), and I still don’t have better time management. What I do not have, though, is the excitement that I had last year. During frosh week, I would look wistfully at the little froshies who always seemed so wide-eyed with excitement as they cheered on their respective colleges and yelled insults at each other. Now, after having moved out of residence, I just looked on at them and recalled the time I had the same zeal for my college.
Classes are not any easier. If anything, I feel so behind. Professors expect us to build on our foundations from first year, and I struggle to finish my endless readings. Last year, while I might’ve been complaining, now I just frustratingly chastise myself for letting things slip.
Also, night classes. Last year, I had one and I hated it. Now, I have one almost everyday.
So the biggest difference between this year and last year?
No longer is there that excitement, but placid acceptance. One more year closer to graduation, and I’m just as confused. But with last year’s gruelling training, I’m just glad that I can say, ‘come at me bro.’
So, to all the second years, how do you feel?