At the end of the year, it is customary practice for The Varsity’s outgoing Editor In Chief to write an editorial, dictating the hope and promise for future generations to come (who will stumble across this 2008/2009 bound volume en route to hooking up with a first-year copy editor in the archive room). If The Varsity is truly a record, the thoughts and aspirations of a generation in becoming, this editorial holds weight. So what can I say?

We’re fucked.

We’re the generation that’s fucked. We’re Tara-Reid-on-Quaaludes, three-sheets-to-the-wind-fucked. We’re Osama Bin Laden, caught-in-a-cave fucked. We’re “I’ve-got-an-exam-in-two-hours-and-I-can’t-even-remember-the-fucking-course-code” fucked.

Welcome to Generation Recession. Now skip off to grad school to delay your quarter-life crisis by an extra dime.

I’m writing this in Robarts right now, amongst the natives. The Commerce student beside me is asleep at his desk with his headphones on. He looks like a drooling angel. Aside from the fluorescent triangles and strains of hip hop from laptop speakers on too loud, this is a certain vision of utopia. The knowledge economy, doing what they do best. A quick walk-around survey of laptop screens belies Facebook chat and Wikipedia crib notes—but how can I judge? I’m currently YouTubing the last episode of America’s Next Top Model with a paper a week overdue. I’m fucked, but at least I acknowledge it.

What’s not okay is that our university administration is trying to cope with the recession through the just-passed Flat Fees program, a terrifying initiative on the way to a creepier, privatized regime, making us the Harvard of the North Korea. Forcing students to pay for courses they’re not even taking is not a way to sort out U of T’s finances, David Naylor. Some of us have to work while we’re in school. Some of us have to pay our own rent. And some of us live in basement apartments, surviving on ramen noodles, where we regularly find ourselves trying to write a philosophy paper after an eight hour shift, overhearing our roommates have especially vigorous sex with their boyfriends from North Bay. (I’m speaking entirely hypothetically here.)

My point is that while students consider it a privilege to go to U of T, U of T should consider it a privilege to have us. No one is more ambitious and less satisfied than a U of T student. We have less sex, more stress, and higher tuition than the students at Guelph, and are enjoying ourselves the least out of any school in Canada, according to Maclean’s anyway. What are we fighting for? Why suffer through lower marks, bigger classes, and more competition if the future’s hopeless anyway?

Shouldn’t I have gone to Trent?

U of T students might be down, but they’re not out. We’re resilient and smart enough to make our education work for us, even if the administration couldn’t care less. And that starts with following your passion, and trying to do some good for your community, no matter what the consequences are.

Throughout my five years of school and 100 issues editing The Varsity, I’ve thought long and hard about what it means to be a university student, and in particular, a student journalist. It’s an experience adults tell us we’ll never have again—the opportunity to study what we want, how we want to study it, and what’s more, our future is completely in our hands. Coming from a teeny surburban high school where I was lucky to have gym class, I wanted to be a cultural critic but didn’t know how. Luckily I found the (weird, hella incestuous) community of U of T journalism—first writing about music for the Innis Herald, working my way through The Strand, The Gargoyle to finally editing The Varsity—an experience that allowed me to pursue a career writing about the arts for SPIN, EYE Weekly, and the Village Voice. Could I have done it if I was plagued with student loans well into the thousands, with a full-time course load? Hell, I’m barely passing with my credit and a half.

My point is that your education doesn’t have to be what you learn in class. It can be many things—staying up all hours of the night to put out a magazine highlighting Toronto’s 25 artists 25 and under, fighting with your co-workers about whether to italicize an obscure scientific report, and working on something you really care about with the people you care about. (Thanks to the extremely dedicated and talented Varsity staff. I am lucky to call you both comrades and colleagues.)

When your dream dies, zombify that shit. Like Gene Simmons says, “Life is too short not to have delusional notions about yourself.” Here’s hoping yours can live on even in a time of economic disparity, Generation Recession. We’re rooting for everything we know you can achieve.

Yours truly,

Chandler Levack
Editor In Chief
The Varsity Newspaper
2007-2009