Degrees
The above video is from an official source. Here is an alternative with English subtitles.
Let me throw some numbers at you.
16 – The amount of unique academic disciplines I have studied. Most at an introductory level and a few in depth.
9 – Post-secondary institutions at which those courses were taken. 8 in Canada and 1 in the UK. 2 virtually and 7 in-person. 5 comprising my undergraduate experience. 1 for my post-graduate degree. 3 for general professional certifications.
7 – Languages that I have attempted to learn at one point or another. 1 in which I am comfortable.
0 – The temperature (in degrees Celsius) above which the weather has hovered for the past few days in Prince George. In January, at the height of winter. A signifier of a larger abnormality enveloping human existence.
20 – Days elapsed between the containment of the last major wildfire of California’s 2024 calendar (on December 18) and the first one that has begun its 2025 season (on January 7).
9 – Hours in the day that I am obligated to commit to non-personal endeavors. Labor, commuting, and the associated paraphernalia.
Now onto the chain of thought that connects these quantities.
I have just begun my latest foray into French language learning. A refresher course that starts at the foundational, delivered online via the University of Alberta.
In years gone by, French instruction was on the docket for varying reasons. In high school, we were required to take a second language from Grades 8-11. French was the clear choice; despite offerings of a large breadth of languages at the diverse public high school I attended, knowing a bit of Canada’s second official tongue was deemed necessary. It also came with the most set and resourced curricula. A few years after this and during my early university years, I participated in the government sponsored ‘Explore’ program for young adults, spending a couple of months in Montreal, again focusing on the basics. Because we were not allowed to speak English for most of the day (in class and during the numerous cultural outings that saturated the calendar), my peers and I were able to pick up conversational fluency at an accelerated pace. This may be the only time in my life when I could actually speak in French at a rudimentary level. It’s worth mentioning that the experience was also engaging and enjoyable, likely a prerequisite to success.
Three packed years later, following a schedule juggling two completely different majors – English Literature and Physics – I found myself at the losing end of an argument with the university that would eventually grant me my first degree. For a Bachelor of Arts, I would need to prove a level of proficiency in a second language that my high school French and Explore courses did not satisfy. So, I enrolled in French for the full final year of my undergraduate life, barely getting by, doing enough to tick a box. Struggling throughout due to personal frustrations and lack of enthusiasm.
Thus, a language that had hung onto the peripheries of my academic life, infrequently used for actual communication, came to define my relationship with institutions of learning and a country that I had been brought to as a child. And now I must grasp it again, as a combined exercise in personal development and professional capacity.
– / – / –
One positive to all those years of stop-start learning was exposure to francophone media and art.
I was going through some French listening exercises this week and they brought to mind one of my favorite works encountered during French classes. The film shared above: L’Homme qui plantait des arbres (“The Man Who Planted Trees”), released in 1987 and based on Jean Giono’s short story from 1953. (The short story, incidentally, was translated and first published in English despite being written originally in French.) A short feature with a prescient message. It tells the fictional story of a hiker’s encounter with a shepherd who is striving to revitalize a valley within Provence by planting acorns, dedicating his life to nature and healing. It explores environmentalism, (personal) mental health, and social wellbeing. Aimed at younger viewers, it is nonetheless a beautiful and ethereal tale that deserves a universal audience.
Of all the movies I have had to watch at school, this was a welcome standout. A calm, dignified meditation that floats above the chaos being painted by everyday media voices. A clear vision etched in animation capturing what it truly takes to decouple ourselves from facile realities. Slow down and take stock, Giono and Frédéric Back (the filmmaker and artist) implore – our salvation lies not in dominion over nature but in harmony with its resonance. An Alan Watts message, if you will: “Our fundamental self is not something just inside the skin. It’s everything around us with which we connect.” Nature is not just our residence, but a part of our collective being.
Unusual weather patterns, increasingly volatile weather events, and our disregard for sustainable practices are all knotted tightly together. Revisiting and reflecting on stories like this serve as a good reminder of what remains, uncontroversially and incontrovertibly, important.
– / – / –
Here are another couple of numbers:
4 – Years I was employed within the emergency management world. Part of response and recovery efforts from some of the worst disasters in recent Canadian history.
10 – Years it felt like I was employed within the emergency management world. Prescribing local painkillers for cancerous global tumors. Acting through mechanisms designed to prioritize short-term wins.
After putting in the nine to five most weekdays for years on end, one gets tired. We may find it easy to switch off and let the news fly in unfiltered, buttressing hopelessness. For me, at least once in a while, it feels detoxifying to spend time appreciating optimistic art like the film above, rather than catching up on the day’s tragedies. Our lives and our time are measured in fixed units. We should invest them in preserving what is truly valuable.
The clock only ticks one way. Bonne nuit.