"Humanism within me is a burning passion."

The September sun dried the sadness of the girl who had just failed to get into university. The place where she had applied and placed so much hope for a bright future had closed its doors. She knew she hadn't truly tried her best, and she couldn't blame anyone because she herself hadn't strived to achieve her goal.

Then she found herself grappling with the crossroads. Many paths, many choices were presented. Should she stay home and continue studying for the exam? Should she choose a university as her second choice and attend it? She hesitated about her decision. There were many things that still troubled her. She had put away her application for the Faculty of Humanities, instead submitting an application to the Police Academy – as her parents wished.
She blamed herself for not being persistent in her desires. Now, she has let down the expectations of her parents and teachers, and the regretful sighs of her friends who had always thought she would succeed. It's only when things have gone wrong that people start to feel regret and sing the song, "If only..."

With her university entrance exam results in hand, she didn't hesitate to fill in the name of the University of Social Sciences and Humanities in the blank space. She had missed one opportunity in the past, but this time she wouldn't allow herself to regret it. "Vietnamese Studies" was the field she chose to entrust her future to.
Then, the applications for second-choice schools from those who shared the same "fate" as her—failing their first choice—were updated daily on the school's website. Most of them were from police academies. Only those in my situation can understand the tension and suspense each time the list of scores was updated with more applications. Those sky-high scores kept pushing her ranking down dramatically. This feeling was even more suffocating than when she waited for the police academy's website to upload the scores and it kept showing an error.

And luckily, her name was still on the list of students admitted through the second round of applications. That's great! If she had missed this opportunity, she would have been devastated.

And on September 21, 2014, she officially became a freshman in the Vietnamese Studies department at the University of Social Sciences and Humanities. Hanoi welcomed the new students with a day of rain. But that didn't matter; she was already overjoyed, and the rain added a touch of excitement.

She has lived within the Humanist community since that day…

Humanity within her is like a vast blue sky!

She loved the early mornings at the Faculty of Humanities. Every morning she tried to arrive as early as possible; the feeling of being alone in the atmosphere was wonderful. Everything was always the freshest, and on those occasions, she felt more confident about her future than ever before.

She was impressed by the wall near the mezzanine staircase leading up from the 5th floor of building G. There were so many pen marks on it. Don't be too critical of the use of pens to draw on walls. Very few people set foot there, and each word tells a different story from different people, all trying to communicate with the Faculty of Humanities, probably because they still haven't found someone to share their feelings with.

Late afternoons at the Faculty of Humanities were strangely quiet. In the early days, she liked to linger, sitting on benches, listening to music with her headphones on, and watching everyone. Everyone was a stranger, but they all seemed like kind and lovable. She couldn't understand why she could sit for hours just observing everything in the school. Ah, so this was the Faculty of Humanities, now her home, where she would live for months away from her family, where she would continue on her life's journey. There would be difficulties, there would be setbacks, but she still believed it wouldn't turn its back on her.

The first few classes were also the first time she had heard lectures from people with PhDs and Master's degrees. They were all knowledgeable individuals with broad understanding. She imagined them to be strict and serious lecturers. But she was wrong; she couldn't believe they were lecturers. How could they be so friendly and so dedicated? Even the Philosophy lecturer, nearly 60 years old, was enthusiastic throughout the three-hour lecture, never stopping her smile. And then there was the Fundamentals of Culture lecturer; she couldn't take her eyes off her during each of her stories. The Humanities lecturers always exuded a strong humanistic spirit; they were truly wonderful.

The humanistic side of her is a sky full of passion.

The Freshman Orientation Day took place a few weeks after enrollment. This was probably the most memorable event she had ever attended at the Faculty of Humanities. It was a day for freshmen, and for her. It felt like everything had been prepared as a gift for herself. Throughout that day, she learned almost everything about the university, realizing that even though she loved the school, she was still missing out on many things about it. For the rest of her journey, she definitely wouldn't want to miss anything else about the Faculty of Humanities.

In the months that followed, school activities were continuous and large-scale. From blood donation drives to "Spring of Love," the students of the Faculty of Humanities lived in an atmosphere of readiness to contribute and burst with energy. Who says students of the Faculty of Humanities are gentle to the point of being dull? They burn with passion no less than the "flames of the Highlands."

It's only been one semester, but the Humanities within her has grown and deepened. She can rest assured that her future years will be secure within the Humanities, and she must strive to live and contribute to the best of her ability. She knows her choice is never wrong!