With my convocation happening, I cannot help but take a moment to look back on the last two years of my life, on my journey as an international student in Canada.
It’s a little funny–as a reader and a book reviewer, I always talk a lot about how important character growth is. Most of my favorite books are the ones where the characters have changed so much throughout the events that they are hardly recognizable, even when their core values remain the same.
I feel that way right now, as I try to remember the person I used to be before I left my homeland, and everything changed.
While I am still the starry-eyed girl with big dreams, I have also become someone completely new. Someone who waits more patiently, someone who bites her tongue instead of letting her temper flare. Someone who enjoys silence and solitude, but is still appreciative of good company.
When I came to Canada in 2023, there were many culture shocks that I had to adjust to. In the beginning, most of it were good and quirky changes that I took in stride. But with time, I started to notice the little micro-aggressions, the invisible divide in the classroom between those who were privileged enough to be born and raised here and those who were fresh off the boat plane.
There was this strange feeling, of being at home. And yet, I felt like I did not belong. I fell in love with the streets of London, Ontario. I adored the tiny bedroom I had rented that was the size of my bathroom back in Dhaka. I learned to love grocery shopping and making my own meals. And yet I missed the colors and the sounds of the city I was born in. I missed the festivities, the crazy traffic, and the simple joy of hearing conversations in my mother tongue all around me. I missed the comfort of coming home to a house that I did not have to clean, a table full of food I did not have to cook, and rooms full of my loved ones who I now know that I had taken for granted.
Being an international student means home is no longer a place, but a feeling. And I felt both the presence and the absence of a home, every single day.
There was a lot of laughter in these past two years. I have made friendships that would carry me through some of the worst days of my life. I found a love that brings me joy and peace every single day. But there were harder days too.
There were so many moments of self-doubt and second-guessing. More than once, I wondered if I had made the right choice. The economy was so bad when I came, that I couldn’t land a part-time job to support myself as I promised my family I would. But my parents never held it against me–even though it was difficult for them, they made sure that I would be okay.
The guilt of that hasn’t left me yet. The guilt of leaving my loved ones behind to build a life for myself. It was probably the most selfish decision I have ever made–I didn’t need to take such a big risk. I had a wonderful, well-paying job in Dhaka, my career was progressing quickly, and I had more than enough for myself and my family. To give all of that up, just for my own personal dream of moving to a new country, was an extremely selfish decision on my part, considering the burden it put on my family.
The stress of having a daughter alone in a foreign country with no one to care for her put so much pressure on my parents, that they aged 10 years within the first six months of my being in Canada. And I wasn’t there for it. I couldn’t be there when my mother was hospitalized for a week for dengue. I couldn’t be there when my father had a stroke. My little sister had to step up and take on the burden of being the glue that kept my family together.
And when the July Revolution happened in 2024, when all of Bangladesh was cut off completely from the rest of the world during a week-long, nationwide telecommunications shutdown, I understood for the first time the price that I had paid for leaving home.
I cannot say I would do it all over again. I cannot say I have no regrets. But for what it’s worth, I am incredibly grateful for every experience I have had so far. My time at Ivey Business School helped me figure out where I wanted to take my career, but more than that, it made me understand the kind of people I wanted to surround myself with. And my time beyond Ivey was just as impactful–there are some lessons in life you simply cannot learn in a classroom. And I am grateful I got to experience it all.
Because all of those experiences shaped the person writing this blog post today. And I like this person. She is kinder now, but she is also more resilient. She is wiser now, but she no longer berates herself when she makes a mistake. I think she will go on to do amazing things in the days to come.
