I think I recognized even then that the term felt a little condescending. Now that I'm an OWL myself, I can assert that with certainty. Young and cocky at 18, I used to snort derisively at OWLs. An OWL is earnest and takes his or her education seriously. On the cusp of letting you out early, a professor will ask if anyone has any additional questions. An OWL will raise her hand and keep you there for another 15 minutes. Let's face it: an OWL is a bit of a brown-noser.
I see myself now for the brat I was. I should be taking my education seriously. I'm paying for it, dammit, and why wouldn't I want to get the most value out of it?
These days, I snort derisively at the 18 and 19-year-olds who populate my classes (seriously, I have a problem). They are so, so young, the age when they can't possibly conceive of the fact that they'll be my age in the blink of an eye. They pepper their comments liberally with expressions like "like" and "and stuff."
Poor speech habits aside, though, my young compatriots defy my inclination to stereotype them. In my marketing class, the kid with the floppy hair wearing the set-askew baseball cap nods off once but volunteers answers to questions with enthusiasm. The girl who says she's some kind of energy drink representative proffers an apt anecdote about how her employer uses marketing on Facebook.
School is such a different experience in my 30s. True, by the time I got deep into my program at UWO, I began to take school more seriously, but the first two years of my post-secondary education, I did the bare minimum to succeed. I skimmed my readings at best. I studied very little.
Somehow I've morphed into some kind of perfectionist. The old me and the way I operated seem practically unrecognizable to me. I feel scandalized by the idea of skipping my readings and not putting in the hours studying. What can I say? I'm older. Wiser.
The day before school started, I felt apathetic. I wasn't keen on the idea of upending my life. Yet, I couldn't imagine my life staying the same, either. I wanted more, so for better or worse, it was time to begin.
My first week of school, I swung between euphoria and despair. My first two days I felt excited and energized with new-found purpose. I attacked my books, assignments and online discussion forums with gusto. It honestly wasn't my intent, but I'm sure I looked like an insufferable brown-noser when I stopped after class to ask my marketing instructor if she'd like me to bring in some of my old magazines to add to the collection she uses for class projects.
Then came my web graphics class. I scanned the first week's assignment and watched the instructor's introductory video. My stomach flipped as she described the class. She explained that we would be using Adobe Illustrator. She talked using terms unfamiliar: vectors and raster graphics. One week we would be using the software to draw a violin. What? Excuse me. What?!?! I did not sign up for this. This was way outside my comfort zone.I do not draw violins using using software or otherwise. No.
I scanned my reading assignment and could make no sense of it. I panicked, ready to drop the class, put it off for another semester. Instead, though, I used my amazing OWL powers and decided to investigate other options. I was signed up for the online version of the class but quickly discovered that there was space in the instructor's class on campus and arranged to switch to that section.
I attended the class on Thursday. As OWLs often are, I was a little slow with the software, but I sat with my textbook and was able to work my way through the week's assignments. At one point, I wished I'd remembered my glasses so I could better make out the tiny icons. I had to ask some questions and felt stupid when I couldn't figure out how to use my jump drive, but I survived. I will survive.
My feelings about school have moderated. I'm still excited, but it's tempered with the sobering realization that this will be a lot of work. I'm an OWL, though, and I'm ready. Now, any more questions before we wrap this up?
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