It’s Sept. 7 and there seem to be a million people in the Algonquin College hallways. It’s hot and noisy and everyone is pushing. Backpacks thwack into me and shoulders accidentally knock me around. I’ve only been here 10 minutes but I’m already annoyed. I’m walking down one of those super-heated glass bridges between buildings amidst a sea of students, and I realize I don’t like it here.

This is the first day of school after two years of being shut down. For many of these kids, this is the first time they’ve ever set foot on a college campus. I can’t say the same thing. I spent the first year of a two-year program studying online with only a few classes on campus, thanks to COVID-19. When we did come to the campus, it was peaceful and idyllic. I loved it then. No longer do I feel that way.

School spirit was never allowed to grow and bloom in my psyche, and now these hallways are too cramped and noisy. As I buckle down and try to finish this program, I doubt I will ever feel that spirit.

These are my last two terms at college and then I’ll be off to university. This is only the first stepping stone towards getting a degree.

Algonquin College is a great institution. I’ve appreciated every single professor I’ve had, whether online or in person. There’s no way I’ll ever forget my journalism professors, such as the enigmatic Julie McCann. The prof who taught me to use a DSLR is the dynamic and surprising Ralph Plath, who used to play bass guitar in a college band. Then there are my classmates, who provide a steady stream of laughs and insightful conversation. I hold them all in high esteem.

On second thought, perhaps there are some things I will miss about the college when I graduate – the people I’ve come to know in the short time I was able to be here.