Ylva Axelsson, Grade 11
UWC Red Cross Nordic
It’s easy, isn’t it? To wax poetic about the awe-inspiring scenery, the interconnected cultures, the education as a force to unite people, nations and cultures for peace and a sustainable future. And yes, that plays a part in what UWC is to me. I have several classmates that, beyond a shadow of a doubt, have names that people will read about in history books centuries from now. Being around them has made me think, maybe for the first time, about the concrete things that I can do to build something better rather than just complain about the systems that exist today.
But there’s more to it than that. Going to a UWC school isn’t like going to a Model UN conference. It’s very real, for one, but it’s also not just about fixing the world, right here and right now. Because if there’s one thing that UWC has taught me, it is that fixing things is a process. The world is a big thing to take on, yes, but it doesn’t matter how small you start, or where. What’s important is that you start. And nothing motivates people more to do that than being around 199 (in the case of RCN) young changemakers, who are all passionate enough about something to come to a place like UWC, and getting to be around them for 24 hours a day for two years.
Except we’re not getting to do that right now. There are good reasons for that, of course, but it takes a toll all the same. Because yes, if I wake up with the burning desire to discuss the eurocentric way in which mass media is covering this crisis, I know which of my classmates to call. But if I want to poke my head out of my door and get pulled into a conversation about the lasting impact and nuances of various socialist struggles of the 20th century, no dice.
You see, I come from a very particular context, as do all of my classmates. This has shaped our views and ideals, as well as the battles we have chosen in the past. And at UWC, we had the chance to expand upon that. To discuss things that we’d never even thought twice about before with someone who’d spent years planning campaigns around it - and vice versa. I can’t count the number of times I’ve explained the things I’m passionate about to a fellow student, and been given an entirely new perspective on it. Most of those times have been outside of a classroom setting - in fact, they usually occur in the last places you expect. A chance encounter in a dayroom sofa on the wrong side of midnight, a chaotic 7-way conversation in a bustling cafeteria, or a brief corridor exchange on our way to two different places. That, more than anything, is what defines UWC to me.
I do miss the scenery (look up the fjord at UWC Red Cross Nordic, you won’t regret it). I do miss the dazzling cultural mix and the springboard into creating lasting change. But more than anything, I miss the people. Not just the ones I was close to, especially since those are the ones I’m staying in touch with throughout this pandemic. No, what I miss the most is the random encounters that challenged me when I was least expecting it, and the ones that gave me an in-depth understanding of issues that I had never thought to look into before. Did you, for example, know that Peru has over 4,000 types of potatoes and that there is far more to the Malaysian palm oil industry than you might have been told? I didn’t - at least not until I came to a UWC school.
You can’t call someone you’ve said maybe 20 words total, and say, “please tell me whatever’s at the forefront of your mind right now”.
But the longer this quarantine progresses, the more I’m tempted to try.
But there’s more to it than that. Going to a UWC school isn’t like going to a Model UN conference. It’s very real, for one, but it’s also not just about fixing the world, right here and right now. Because if there’s one thing that UWC has taught me, it is that fixing things is a process. The world is a big thing to take on, yes, but it doesn’t matter how small you start, or where. What’s important is that you start. And nothing motivates people more to do that than being around 199 (in the case of RCN) young changemakers, who are all passionate enough about something to come to a place like UWC, and getting to be around them for 24 hours a day for two years.
Except we’re not getting to do that right now. There are good reasons for that, of course, but it takes a toll all the same. Because yes, if I wake up with the burning desire to discuss the eurocentric way in which mass media is covering this crisis, I know which of my classmates to call. But if I want to poke my head out of my door and get pulled into a conversation about the lasting impact and nuances of various socialist struggles of the 20th century, no dice.
You see, I come from a very particular context, as do all of my classmates. This has shaped our views and ideals, as well as the battles we have chosen in the past. And at UWC, we had the chance to expand upon that. To discuss things that we’d never even thought twice about before with someone who’d spent years planning campaigns around it - and vice versa. I can’t count the number of times I’ve explained the things I’m passionate about to a fellow student, and been given an entirely new perspective on it. Most of those times have been outside of a classroom setting - in fact, they usually occur in the last places you expect. A chance encounter in a dayroom sofa on the wrong side of midnight, a chaotic 7-way conversation in a bustling cafeteria, or a brief corridor exchange on our way to two different places. That, more than anything, is what defines UWC to me.
I do miss the scenery (look up the fjord at UWC Red Cross Nordic, you won’t regret it). I do miss the dazzling cultural mix and the springboard into creating lasting change. But more than anything, I miss the people. Not just the ones I was close to, especially since those are the ones I’m staying in touch with throughout this pandemic. No, what I miss the most is the random encounters that challenged me when I was least expecting it, and the ones that gave me an in-depth understanding of issues that I had never thought to look into before. Did you, for example, know that Peru has over 4,000 types of potatoes and that there is far more to the Malaysian palm oil industry than you might have been told? I didn’t - at least not until I came to a UWC school.
You can’t call someone you’ve said maybe 20 words total, and say, “please tell me whatever’s at the forefront of your mind right now”.
But the longer this quarantine progresses, the more I’m tempted to try.
www.unitedworldwide.co