For me, the first few weeks of school—the liminal period of add-drop—are emotionally charged and stressful, demanding coordination and thorough planning. In this piece, I offer my internal monologue during add-drop, and some meagre advice on coming to terms with the schedule you end up with.
Last fall, I wrote about going to random lectures and concluded that the ultimate joy of the university experience (to me, at least) is getting to go to a class solely to feed your curiosity for learning. I’ve always been the kind of person who can’t just take any course solely to satisfy my credit minimum. Instead, I’ve imposed on myself a kind of precarious balance between needing to enjoy the content on a deep level but also liking the evaluation scheme, and knowing at least a few people in the class for comfort. This has worked out for me so far, but as I entered my last semester I found myself in an unfamiliarly stressful position: Not knowing what course to take anymore.
It seems I’ve taken every course McGill has to offer within the limits of my program. I’ve always been lucky during add-drop, with the same routine every semester: Thinking my schedule is good on the first day, only to gradually realize that I need to change everything immediately, stressfully composing emails to my extremely kind and caring advisor, ultimately finding a solution that fit my three criteria on the last day. But this semester was different, as I was only missing three credits to graduate, and could not find anything left to take. I settled on a course in an unfamiliar department, deeply interesting in content but heavy on midterms, which I have managed to avoid in most of my classes so far.
To me, add-drop is more stressful than finals week. I’ve always had a hard time explaining it, especially when it comes to my three selection criteria. A lot of my friends and family who are McGill alumni have told me that it doesn’t really matter what courses I take, or that I need to leave my comfort zone. I know I’ve been very lucky to enjoy every course I’ve taken so far, which is why I found it so hard to acknowledge that this semester would have to be different: I would have to take a course that forces me out of my comfortable and predictable degree schedule.
These past few weeks, I realized that I’ve already taken all the classes my friends are taking this semester. In other years, I was more than excited to take classes in my department, where a sense of camaraderie helped me persevere through any kind of evaluation. But this semester, as I asked around, hoping I would be able to take a class with one of my friends, I realized that it wouldn’t be possible. In a way, I have to accept that I’m in my last year of undergrad and that I don’t have the luxury of choice anymore.
This add-drop period, after countless hours of worrying, stressing, and crying over my schedule, I’ve managed to rearrange my thoughts by shifting my perspective. Taking a class outside of my comfort zone isn’t a plight—it’s a wonderful opportunity to see what else McGill has to offer. I’m genuinely excited to take a class where I get to deepen my knowledge in a topic I’ve always been interested in, even if it means writing a humanities midterm for the first time in four years. Enjoy your semester, even if your schedule didn’t turn out the way you thought it would. Try to engage with those unfamiliar courses; you’re only here for so long. Make the most of it.
