Ah, once again the darkened skies have returned, and with them come the muddy lawns, the snow on far away mountaintops, and the mutterings of easterners unfamiliar with our wonderful northwest weather. But other than yuletide greetings, ring-dinging jingle bells, and images of jolly, fat men, this season also harkens the return of papers, late night crammings, and, of course, the final exam. As we close what has been a semester of ups and downs for all of us, a semester of glorious victories as well as humbling defeats, remember that in the academic world it’s the process that matters most, and it’s the memories of the journey that we’ll remember far longer than the destination.

As I look across the campus, I think this university—like most universities, I would imagine—is split into two groups; and it seems to me that there really is no middle ground. One group is having way too much fun. For them, university is defined primarily by the social aspect of our Trinity Western community. University is about meeting people, networking, and developing social skills. It’s about growing individually, maturing communally, and developing spiritually. Grades, classes, papers, and exams all take a backseat to their personal and social growth.
The other group is working way too hard. University is primarily about the grades, the papers, the professor’s recommendation, and doing well. To them, dorm dates, late night Lower Caf card games, or even just a break to laugh or cry while admiring one of the great cinematic art forms of our day, are never as important as the words written in a book we all paid way too much for. Dedicated, determined, disciplined, and darn smart, this group fully understands the value of hard work.

However, I don’t think that either group has a monopoly on what exactly it means to be a student. For those looking to have a good time, life is about hard work, and a whole lot of it. We’re destined to spend the rest of our lives toiling and working. Social skills are great and incredibly important, but it’s only after a hard day’s work, from raising a family, to swinging an axe, to writing a book, that we can truly realize our full potential and humanity.

And while the grades are important and the work has to get done, in the end, when we leave this place, our fondest memories won’t be the ten-paged research paper we wrote for some class about some topic or another. Instead, we’ll remember who we shared our time with, who we laughed with, what songs we listened to, and the encouraging words we heard. Many of the relationships we build today will last for the rest of our lives; they will be there for us when we get out of the bubble and life really does begin to get difficult.

Most of us have been here before and know deep down that somehow we’ll survive. In the end, the process always feels worse than the result. Come December 25, the stress will be forgotten and the panic-induced all-nighters will become a funny story to share with relatives over a holiday meal. They become our war stories, our foxhole moments, our brief taste of battle, as we bask in the glory that victory brings with it or reflect on the lifelong lessons that always come from defeat. In the end, it’s not so much about what we did, or even why we did it, but about how we finished and who was there beside us along the way.