Humanism within me: “What should I call Humanism?...”

The Faculty of Humanities has witnessed these changes since the day I began living and studying in this bustling, crowded city of Hanoi. I don't want to compare the Faculty of Humanities to any other second or third home of mine...

Because, fundamentally, Nhân Văn wasn't home – a place where I could be peaceful and carefree as before, a place where my parents pampered and protected me...

What should I call the Humanities?
Because it is a Humanism... , a Humanism that I remember..., a Humanism that I witnessed together...
I was so nervous I almost lost my voice when I first held the microphone to speak on behalf of the group. The teacher stood beside me, smiling encouragingly and listening to me speak. At that moment, I felt my heart calm down and I was able to steady myself and adjust my voice.
It was terrifying facing the first semester final exams of my first year. I was busy studying and preparing, feeling like I was mentally preparing for the university entrance exam a second time.

It was the first time I'd ever dreamt of a senior's smile. Every day we studied together, I'd watch him hurrying across the schoolyard, then sit there pretending not to care when he went back to class. That feeling gently brushed against my heart, making me restless. But it seemed too light, too vague, leaving me hesitant to get closer...
 

What should I call the Humanities?
Because it is a Humanistic school... , a Humanistic school that I remember..., a Humanistic school that I want to be proud of, to preserve, and to build upon, to create the beauty and reputation of the school...

It was a childish dissatisfaction of mine when the Natural Sciences school next door had a gate with its name clearly displayed, and when strangers asked in bewilderment, "Oh, is the Humanities school next to the Natural Sciences school?",...
My regret stems from the loss of the fountain in front of building E. Watching each brick being removed leaves a void in my heart... Perhaps this feeling stems from the fact that the fountain had become one of the beautiful and iconic landmarks of the school.

Bringing home the school calendar at the beginning of the year was a source of pride for my parents, who cherished it and hung it in the living room.
It's gentler when someone asks me what school I attended, and I softly say "Humanities" in the most "humanistic" way possible. Who says "Humanities" is the epitome of human beauty? :)

What should I call the Humanities?
Because it is a Humanism... , a Humanism that I remember..., a Humanism that compels me to learn, to change...
I used to be hesitant when looking at the strangers around me – the people who would be my teachers, my mentors, my seniors, my classmates…
I used to get tired of dealing with relationships called "social connections"...
I used to be... I used to be... such a withdrawn and unapproachable person...
At this school, I learned how to manage my own relationships.
It's about knowing the difference between "giving" and "receiving." When I give more than just sincerity, I will also receive the same gift in return.
I'm no longer tired of the word "social interaction." Because I know that whether a relationship is close or distant is up to me to decide, and I understand that social interactions are a natural part of life.
It means knowing how to smile when disagreements arise within a work team.
It means being open and smiling at everyone, expressing gratitude for every sincere compliment, listening to every negative comment about yourself, and reflecting on your own actions.
It means knowing how to view or evaluate a problem from all angles in the most objective and fair way possible.

If it were me from a year ago, or two, or three, or five years ago...

Can you imagine a completely different me from who I am now?
The person I was before wouldn't have known what independence meant...
The person I was before didn't know about the arduous but laughter-filled journeys of volunteer work.
The person I was yesterday could be counted on the fingers of one hand.

The old me stayed confined to my small, peaceful house.

The old me was caught up in frivolous, petty dreams...

And back then, I could never have imagined the wonderful and amazing things I have now. The me of today is a growing, more mature person, someone who lives for others, who dreams bigger and brighter for life's journey. I am a humanities me...

What should I call Humanism? For me, Humanism can't be called Home because it's not overly peaceful, warm, or a cozy haven with doting parents and caring siblings.
The Faculty of Humanities is not just a four-year stopover in life.
Humanity, with its memories and the changes that have come at this less naive age...
That's especially true...
Such a humane society...
Let's just call it "Humanism in me"... :)