I’m Scared to Go Back to University
(I don’t want to fail again)
It’s almost three in morning. So, a time when most realizations seem to hit me. This one is that I have ten days to prepare to go back to school.
I remember being a kid, and always being so excited to go back every September. I would get to see my friends again, and wonder what I’d get to learn this time around. These experiences, paired with the fact that I’m studying to become a school teacher, make my dread of the upcoming academic year all the more ironic.
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For some context, I’ve always been considered by others to be a great student. By high school, however, a combination of unmanaged ADHD, unsuspected autism, unacknowledged anxiety, and poorly-medicated depression resulted in a rapid decline in all grades and motivation. It wasn’t always visible from the outside; I was still on student council, still giving passionate presentations, still ‘’smart’’.
It started with math. I couldn’t wrap my head around some of the concepts. I’d always been considered a gifted student, and so I’d never learned to study, or to ask questions. My motivation to complete assignments dwindled as well. Eventually, I’d have so many unsubmitted assignments that I’d make myself sick with anxiety at the thought of going to class. So I wouldn’t. Consequently, they piled up even more. When I managed to force myself to write something, anything, I would get a good grade and beat myself up over not doing it sooner. I passed many of my classes due to a mix of genuine skill, and most likely pity on the teacher’s part (I’m going to guess about 40-60 there).
People were probably annoyed at our graduation with what they could only believe was my fake modesty, but I was genuinely shocked when it was announced that I was graduating with honours. I didn’t understand how it was possible after failing more than one class in my senior year. My marks in other areas, combined with my in-school leadership, seemed to prove more valuable. I got lucky.
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During that final year of high school, everyone talks about what’s coming next. Due to logistical issues with my university of choice, I had settled on applying to my hometown college. People saw me as someone with more potential than that, but by this point I completely lacked confidence in any academic skill I may have once posessed. When pressed, I would go on about financial struggles. This was, and still is, very true. However, there was something that I was refusing to admit. I am not smart anymore. At least, not any smarter in comparison to all of the other students at my school prepping for post-secondary.
It fucks with your brain to be told you are this one thing your whole life, and then watch as everyone else around you starts to also become that thing while you struggle to keep up. It sounds stuck-up, ungrateful, whatever, but being considered one of the smartest people in your school sets expectations anyone could collapse under. This is something I’ve seen many other neurodivergent people lament once in adulthood. You coast your whole life, and miss out on developing so many skills. You don’t hit the same milestones as everyone else, and sometimes don’t even know the things your peers seem to have all figured out. In the end, you come out feeling behind. You feel like a fraud, and bringing up how you’re actually not that smart, that it’s just a label that stuck, makes you look like a massive humble-bragging tool.
The truth is, I was jealous of the girls who could keep notes, get a bad mark, and then write better ones. I was in awe of the boys who could show up to 6am practice and still confidently walk into a lab test without hopelessly skimming the textbook until the bell rang. I was a hyperlexic child. I grew up bilingual, read a lot, and have a very naturally associative mind. It makes me a good writer, but it never taught me those skills that my peers learned out of necessity. I could memorize information by making stories out of it in my head, which is a useful skill until you start to reach the years when you’re expected to have your own brain, with your own opinions and reasoning. I could never apply study techniques, because I’d never needed to learn anything that wasn’t of interest to me before. Now, I struggle with the foundations of most new subjects, because I’d never properly learned how to learn (I could write a thousand pages on why learning the way we are expected to in western academia isn’t useful to me or people like me, but that not what today’s about).
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There’s a long story about how I finally got to university, but it’s irrelevant for now. The point is, I eventually enrolled in a Bachelor of Education program, designed specifically for Indigenous students. It was my dream program since my sister showed it to me, and I was trying to figure out how to get in as early as grade 10. I was so scared, but, like many autists would, I approached this new challenge with a plan. I had printed out syllabi, highlighted deadlines, colour-coded Google Calendar entries. Then, like many ADHDers would, I fumbled it all.
I only had my sister to guide me through any of these processes, but she was still undergoing them herself. I couldn’t expect her help all of the time. Still, I was very lucky to be going to the same university as my sister, at the same time. I learned about resources, professors, and on-campus hideaways, but I still had to navigate them mostly by myself. Everything was new and intimidating, and a lot of it still feels that way. It’s designed to be that way. Being there is a privilege, and not everyone gets the same access to the generational knowledge and hushed resources that easy-mode these systems for them.
They don’t tell you that people with disabilities like me can take twice as long to complete their degrees, if they’re even able to, and are supported for that long.
Nobody talks about how common it is even for people without those cognitive challenges to take an extra-year or two, either because a full course load is a hefty expectation (normal), they need a break (normal), or they simply change their minds about their studies (NORMAL).
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Needless to say, I bit off more than I could chew my first year. I dropped more classes than I added, I took on extra-curriculars that I forgot about, I tried to make friends with people I never saw twice. Adjusing to a new home, a new city, a new routine, and plenty of new people was so much to handle for me before even considering academics. I excelled in some areas, and failed miserably in others. It’s ok, it’s trial and error, right? (it only costs a few thousand per semester… hopefully future me gets a REALLY good job)
In my second year, I learned. I figured out that year-long classes were easier for me to handle than ones that only lasted a semester, so I took 5 (I still didn’t learn from the mistake of taking too many classes at once, but at least I learned something and applied it). When this proved to be too much work for a now chronically-depressed recluse to muster, that anxiety came creeping back in. I couldn’t do anything to force myself to attend classes I was struggling in. I tried to take mostly subjects I enjoyed, but I couldn’t focus for three hours straight on subjects that bored me. When time for assessments came, I was completely lost. I failed 2,5 credits between my first and second years.
In my third year, I took as few classes as I possibly could while still fulfilling my degree requirements. I made sure I was passionate and willing to learn about each one. Then, at the end of October, already two weeks behind, I suffered a concussion.
I couldn’t get out of bed for a week, couldn’t sleep for two. By the third week I was still struggling with looking at screens (a uni necessity). It wasn’t until a month later that I could actually drive myself to school, and it was the scariest 20-minute drive I’ve taken. I was sincerely contemplating dropping out that Christmas. I failed another 2,5 credits that year.
Even though I had other certifications, though, I knew that for my future and my heart it’s important for me to push through the hard times now to live a life that I truly love (not to mention getting a job that can pay back the student loans that I’ve accrued).
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In total, I have failed 5 credits (6 courses, one of them twice), and barely passed 3 credits (5 other courses). That’s 11 final grades below 55. I got lucky, again, because despite being placed on academic probation, and having a GPA below 54 (minimum 60), my record somehow states an academic status of good standing. Even my academic advisor was confused. I’m taking it as permission to keep going.
Last year, I was meant to graduate from the undergraduate portion of my program to the professional part (student-teaching). At least, that’s the path that’s laid out by the school. Normally, when people are taking a fourth year like this in my specific program, it’s so they can pursue an honours degree before moving onto their bachelor of education. For me, I have to accept that this whole extra year is the bare minimum for moving forward. I have to accept that along the way, instead of accepting myself and my disabilities, I’ve cost myself hundreds of hours and thousands of extra dollars trying to force myself to learn more when I simply couldn’t.
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This time around, I’ll be taking less hours at work to focus on school (an option I simply didn’t have before). I’m enrolled in our school’s accessibility department, so I’ll have access to notes and even more resources (I don’t think anyone should need diagnostic proof of anything to access these resources if they exist, but for now, for myself, I have to play the game). I’ll be taking year-long classes where possible, and online classes to beat the crippling anxiety that keeps me from going to my lectures. I’m still taking more classes than I’m confident I should for this year, but I’ll have my husband to support me through it, four loving pets at home to help me with studying, and a future worth working hard for.
I don’t believe in myself, but I believe in the people that do. And that’s enough for right now.
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Anishinaabemowin word of the day: Ningashkitoon! I can do it! (succeed)
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miigz and props if you read all of that btw
♡ Hal