Aelya Salman

Turning 19, in Ontario at least, is monumental to a certain extent. The law ceases playing Jiminy Cricket and bows aside to welcome you to the (finally legal)
world of drinking and smoking, vices which have been part of our lives to whatever extent, for years. There are a number of things I can do on the 4^th of July, when I turn 19.

I am unsure of how to begin this letter. Most of our conversations are never words, rather actions: a smile between note-taking; looking at each other over cups, your coffee clutched in jittery hands and my earl grey whispering steam; a tug at the corner of your shirt to pull you back from the oncoming traffic while jaywalking.

Being away from everyone you’ve gone to school with since you were 4 helps you sort out those worth coming home for and those worth forgetting. That is, if you didn’t already know. There will be students from other faculties in your major’s class who will do better than you on everything. It does not mean they are actually better than you. Numbers on a transcript have no relevance to passion. It’s okay.