Do Things You're Proud Of

What I Learned At The University of Waterloo

April 28, 2026

It's an interesting feeling, to stand on the edge of a cliff and be told it's almost time to jump.

For the last 22 years of my life, I've been following the broad strokes of the same plan. And now I'm here, at the end of the tour and the edge of the map, and now I need to step out into the real world.

When you take a leap, you want to have faith that you'll land somewhere safe, and that usually means looking down, and taking stock of your surroundings. But this is the most uncertain time in my own short life so far, both on the micro level (where will I be living and working in 2027?) and the macro level (Will AI kill my career? Will I ever be able to live in a nice place or start a family? Will world war three start before that matters?).

In times like this, people turn to fundamental truths. And as I graduate this month, I find myself reflecting on the things I learned during my time at the University of Waterloo.

University is supposed to be the bridge between childhood and adulthood. You practice independence. You make mistakes, make friends, fall in love, and learn what makes you feel the most yourself.

I learned that I feel the most like myself when I'm doing something I'm proud of.

It feels a little weird to say that, because it's somehow totally obvious, but also a bit counter-intuitive. When does a Waterloo CS student need to be told they should work more? Isn't the stereotypical lesson to learn here that I need to slow down and enjoy life more? I think that's what I'm supposed to say right now.

But I remember my worst moments. It was when I was alone, isolated, spending all my time in my dorm. I felt like a ghost, passing from place to place. I couldn't see myself reflected through anyone else. If no one's lives would be different if I wasn't here, was I really there?

Then, in the summer of my first co-op, two things happened. I went to my first meeting of the Game Dev Club, and I met Nicole. I was gently pulled out of my shell. I finally felt like what I was doing was interesting to someone.

Through that, I found something precious and special that's hard to put into words. The closest I've come is craft-based community, but I feel like I can do better than that. Open to suggestions.

Whatever I found, I don't see it in the CS stereotypical Linkedin-maxxing Leetcode maniac. I don't aspire to that at all. I think the critical difference is that work alone isn't enough on it's own. It has to be craft, and it needs to be communal.

What's the difference between work and craft? To me, craft is defined not just by doing something, but by caring enough to do it well, to savour the process, to understand why it works. The process itself brings you pride in and of itself, regardless of the final result.

Neither slop nor sloppiness is tolerated. When you care about craft, you aren't just interested in finishing a project to fill a hole on a resume. You want to do something well for it's own sake—because it really bothers you to do a crappy job. It's spiritually offensive.

Not to be a boomer, but I worry that fewer members of the next generation are going to develop a taste for what it feels like to toil over a craft. The wonders of modern technology have encouraged a mindset of speed, optimization, and overachieving among young people, lest they fall irreversably behind. The results are valued more than the process of getting the result. AI is an accelerant to this trend, of course, but it's a symptom, not the cause.

I don't know what to do about this. Academia is theoretically supposed to give people an appreciation for the value of craft and the fundamentals of any particular field, but our current schooling structure was never designed to deal with the availability of something like ChatGPT, let alone the internet at large. It'll take a fundamental rethink of the way schooling works to build a new system that still encourages lazy youngsters to develop their minds and not just take shortcuts. Someone smarter than me should get on that.

An important part is finding a community who values your particular craft as much as you do. You need to find people to learn from, to teach, and who can encourage you to keep going when motivation flags and things get tough. And from experience, some of my best friendships have been made when we can bond over our passion for each other's work.

If you have more time left at school than I do, please don't make my mistake. Get out of your dorm as soon as you can. Start now, before you feel ready. Waterloo is one of the best places in the world to find communities like these. You're already here—that's the hard part. Reach out. Find something or someone that encourages you to keep going, whatever that means to you.

The real reason to go to university is to be surrounded by smart, ambitious, encouraging peers your own age who want to see you succeed. Don't waste this chance. We're so spoiled for those kinds of opportunities at school, it's hard to remember how rare they are in the adult world.

Wherever you go in your life, try to find a craft you care about, and a community like this to share it with. It doesn't need to be your career. It doesn't even need to be a 'project' in the traditional way. You could get really good at the craft of being someone's romantic partner, or a good parent, or a good child, or a good manager, or a good community member, or or or. As long you have something that pushes your limits and makes you grow, you'll be fine.

But it has to be something. Don't just go through life coasting. Take on a bit more responsibility than you think you can handle. Fall in love, or at least host a party or two. Try and find the limit of what you're capable of. I promise you that you'll impress yourself.

Despite all the uncertainty and fear, I'm still really interested to meet my future self. I want to know how his story ends. And the only way to meet him is to jump.