Sincerely, an upper-year who should’ve written her name down sooner

Step 1: Welcome Week Freebies  

First semester of every year, students capitalize on free pens and lanyards from all the clubs’ welcome booths. Standing awkwardly until the spiel is over and after maybe scanning a QR code, they ask, “Can I grab a pen/bag/keychain?”

My first year, I walked around The Bowl in my first day of school outfit, ready to take on university. I had every intention of joining any one of these clubs later. Wait, when and where do they meet again? I was busy eyeing the free tote bag. No worries, I scan the QR code and follow the club’s Instagram account. Productive day. 

Step 2: Procrastinate 

Classes and syllabi rolled around, and I settled into my familiar group of friends. Midterms were upon me by October, and before I knew it, my first semester was over. I spent much of my first year wondering what I’d do for the rest of my degree, feeling “stuck” in the same city I’d lived in most of my life. Again, clubs and tables filled the Arts Tunnel with banners and QR codes. Headphones in, eyes down, I sped past the sign-up sheets and bolted to my next class. 

“Next year. I’ll be stuck here for long enough.” Back then, four years felt like so much time. Like a true first year, I procrastinated putting myself out there. Fish out of water, I felt like I didn’t have anything I could give or gain from a campus club, and my worst fear was walking into a room I didn’t belong in. 

It also didn’t seem like I had a minute to spare outside of all my classes. By the end of the year, I had declared my major and felt like I found my footing in university, but I was struggling to feel like I really belonged among the peers in my major. I didn’t know the names of most of my classmates, and I didn’t feel any fraternity walking through the hoi polloi of the Arts building.  

I looked back on my first year, feeling like I had fallen behind on networking and let so many opportunities pass me by.  

Step 3: Lock In

By now, I was joining whatever club I could get my hands on, taking advantage of every sign-up sheet; I had already felt like I wasted so much time. I wanted to meet peers in my major, and most pressingly, I wanted to stack my resume. Rookie mistake, by the way. I joined six clubs and two rec teams in the first week of my second year. Some I joined with friends, others seemed relevant to my major, one was a shot in the dark. In my paranoia, I dared myself to walk into rooms and talk to people above my year. It felt like I was just throwing spaghetti at the wall. 

I put myself through countless Google forms, racking my brain when answering “Why do you want to join our club?”, while knowing full well I was just desperate to be productive. I did a couple of interviews, paid club fees and went to countless club socials. By the first month, I had a stacked schedule of commitments I’d made on top of a full course load and a part-time job. Spoiler alert: whoever you are trying to impress can always tell when you are in the act of resume stacking. 

Not only will overhauling yourself not impress anyone, but the commitment to these clubs is impossible to upkeep if you don’t truly want to be there. Join the club that truly interests you, whether it’s an F1 club or a K-pop club; showing a true passion and commitment will always look good on paper. 

Step 4: Wait, this is fun

Pretty quickly, the clubs I didn’t care for fell away. I was suddenly dedicating time to a club that I joined on a whim, with no prior experience: debate club. 

At first, my attendance was humble. I’d show up every other week as a modest observer of the heated debates, banging on the table like the rest of the long-time members. What kept me coming back consistently ended up being the community I found in a club that was a mix of newbies and seasoned members. Each week, the obligations of the club became something I looked forward to. 

The weekly meetings drew me out of my shell and made me realize how many people are in the same boat. Through the clubs — even the ones that didn’t work out — I met students that I can now hit up for notes, advice on which Professors to take or just a casual drink.  

I also have made some of my truest friendships in the clubs that did work out. Admittedly, it took trial and error to find the clubs that clicked. Not every club will be right for you! You might love their cause but not mesh well with the members. You might know nothing about building bridges, but stay for the friendships. USASK has over 150 ratified clubs; think of what’s waiting on the other end; there could even be an executive position that will really impress a med school admissions board.

As dorky as it sounds, university is what you make of it. Joining that club and being involved on campus sounds so bourgeois until you meet lifelong friends, get access to travel and career opportunities and push yourself. If I could go back and do it again, I would not hesitate to take the sign-up sheet by the reins and just go for it.

 To the first years who don’t know where to start, or the third years who feel like time is running out: have the audacity to try new things and put yourself out there. The club and the lengthy resume is not the end goal. The value lies in being taught to step outside your comfort zone, pushing yourself to hone new skills and meet new people.