"Humanity in me"

After days of continuous rain, the light began to flicker, casting shadows of the rows of trees on the characteristic red brick yard. I sat on the cool stone bench, quietly watching and playing, enjoying the fresh feeling of nature full of life. A few groups of students were sitting and chatting, joking, studying in groups... The scene suddenly became strangely peaceful, I wondered when my journey to this school had begun?

The red and white striped barrier stood stubbornly and solemnly right in the middle of the school’s entrance. If my father had not driven me through this area and told me about this school, I probably would not have recognized its presence. That is not to say that I did not see the row of houses with classic yellow paint imprinted in the subconscious of students whenever a certain school was mentioned, but I want to emphasize the modesty of the architecture here, hidden behind the shady trees was a small sign on the main road (now both the sign and the tree are gone…) that said: “University of Social Sciences and Humanities”. I quickly waved goodbye to my father and let the raindrops fall carelessly as if I did not care about the new students who were rushing, eager, gloomy, tired… almost each with their own expression that I could hardly describe. It rained all the time! It was almost autumn so the rain did not bring the uncomfortable dampness of the hot weather but blew a cold dampness into the gaps of space so that people could get closer and get to know each other faster? Preoccupied with the raindrops dancing on the shiny concrete yard, I forgot when I had entered the school. I thought about the school name again - the only link that urged me to register for the school entrance exam, turning it into the most important goal that I had to achieve - and of course I did. I went to find the right house number, room number written on the appointment letter and leisurely walked in even though I was (again) late.

Smiling…it was also raining that day…the sunlight suddenly shone on my face, making me jump back to the present. It had been almost 2 years. People say that time flies so fast in college, in the blink of an eye, 4 years have passed, not that long! For those who are far from home and live in rented accommodation here, or in dormitories, the time is a bit special and strange, but for someone who has lived here since childhood (although my hometown is Quang Ngai – a sunny and windy central strip of land), nearly 2 years have passed even faster, more hurriedly and a bit more boring than high school years. If you say I don’t know how to enjoy life, it’s really not true at all. I still try to participate in Youth Union and Association activities, fulfilling my responsibilities as a cadre, but during my high school years I didn’t pay attention to things like this. This is the difference – and those are my efforts to make my years in college more meaningful and memorable. I tried to do many things that I thought I would never be able to do before… like public speaking, group work… everything was taken to a whole new level that made me a bit out of sync and really hard to catch up. And the feeling of sitting in the library reading a book with a person who loves to run around like me, the feeling of filling out a check-in form to borrow a book, the feeling of being silly when being reminded of things that I should have known, the feeling of getting used to the concept of scientific research, the unique feeling of continuously pressing the F5 key on the computer keyboard on the day of course registration,… those feelings were really special.

University is like a miniature society - it really is. But my experience with the miniature "humanistic" society is unlike any experience I had in the original society. For a simple reason, I am exposed to the miniature society every day so that I have enough courage to behave in the harsh "original" society. In terms of knowledge, I have accumulated nearly 50 credits, but in terms of behavior, working style, and management style, I have indeed acquired a lot of information and my job - that of students in general - is to filter out what is necessary and suitable for myself. And the information comes from the stories of the teachers that I have been taught by them. Teachers in high school are like a textbook programmed step by step and I feel like I have to read each step correctly. But the teachers at the University of Social Sciences and Humanities are different. They are like an encyclopedia, and every class they play the role of storytellers – short and long stories from their life experiences and the knowledge they have accumulated over the years. Those stories have always followed me, and will continue to follow me throughout the years to come when I take my first steps on the path of life…

“Reeeeeeeng” – the familiar sound that I always associate with an alarm clock rang out, waking me up from my wandering thoughts and almost waking me up from a long sleep of bad habits that I needed to reduce to do better and be more effective in studying and playing while sitting on the chair of this strange yet familiar school. The first time I met the school was when it was raining, and now the sky is sunny again… is this the real beginning of my journey to the University of Social Sciences and Humanities?