The real key to successfully paying off student debt with minimal pain is figuring out a plan before you even begin school. If you’ve already missed that opportunity, it’s better to start late than never. Even people who haven’t managed their money will benefit instantly from a little coordination to get them back on track. Organization is the time-tested way to succeed at any task, and managing student debt is a great way to put skills into practice early in life.

Sit down and write out your total income from all sources. Then, jot down your basic expenses such as housing, food, and tuition/loan repayments. These three costs should form the basis of any student budget. Next, write down all your additional costs, no matter how insignificant. For some, collecting old receipts or reviewing bank and credit statements will help in figuring out where money is going and how often. Look at all the money coming and going over a set interval (a month is often a good sample).

Any budgeting and financial success hinges on making sure that total expenses don’t exceed total income. After examining your costs, have an honest conversation with yourself. Beyond your necessities, look at where your money is going. Activities like eating out with friends, shopping and trips aren’t bad in and of themselves, but their costs can add up quickly.

That being said, it’s important to live a little and enjoy yourself. The goal, however, is to do so in moderation. How much are you spending and how often? Ask yourself, “Do I really need this? Is this good value for my money?” As they say, it’s important to differentiate between your ‘need to haves’ and your ‘nice to haves.’ Self-control is an invaluable life skill and the earlier you adopt it, the better at it you’ll be.

Cutting back and living more frugally doesn’t mean sacrificing all the things that make you happy. Indeed, it’s better to see your situation as an opportunity to try new things and shake up your routine. Instead of spending $4 daily on coffee, try making your beverages at home and give yourself a chance to explore different recipes and styles. Instead of shelling out on a taxi or transit every day, change things up and try walking or biking to your destination, if possible. The little savings really do add up if you’re careful about them.

Paying greater attention to your money and how you manage it is an exceptionally useful life skill. As people accumulate wealth and assets, responsible accounting becomes crucial to financial stability. Eliminating student debt sooner translates to earlier opportunities down the road. Buying a house, leasing a vehicle or starting a family all cost money and have to be approached carefully and responsibly.

There are numerous resources available to new students and graduates to help manage debt and money. Loan-repayment options, tutorials and articles about finance, banks, governments and private individuals all offer a wealth of information on financial literacy and what it means for those carrying student debt.

Managing financial burdens early in life is a great opportunity for personal growth and how you’ll deal with the responsibilities of life. Being in debt because of your education may not be the best situation, but you can certainly make the most of it if you’re smart about it, honest and willing to see things from a different perspective.

Philip Cutter

I’m going to read on the bus. I’m going to read in my bedroom. Heck, I might even read until 2 in the afternoon on Wednesday if I feel like it.

But seriously… I actually have quite a lot of work to do, and excessive reading may not be the best way to go about spending my week off. Having 7 days free from classes is actually one of the greatest tests of willpower a busy undergrad can face. If, like me, this is your first reading week, you’ll soon come to find that your schedule is going to fill up pretty quickly—if it hasn’t already.

While I did not have this week off last year (I had 3 months instead…), I still vicariously experienced the insanity that is reading week. Friends came home from their respective schools, and pretty soon I had something going on nearly every night. Believe me, after not doing much for a month and a half (other than sleeping in until noon and occasionally being yelled at by Tony Horton), having all of these plans was exhausting.

Now that I’ve been going full force in school—researching papers, writing midterms and getting no sleep—I’m actually a little intimidated by this week of freedom. It’s going to be a lot of fun, but I’m worried that I’ll screw up my sleep pattern (more so than it already is) and accomplish little to nothing, creating more stress for myself when this period of respite is over.

If you’re in the same boat as me, there are a few things you can do that might help you accomplish something this break—instead of digging yourself an early grave for the four weeks to follow. OK, that might be a bit harsh, but you get the point.

1. Don’t overextend yourself. This tip harkens back to a blog I wrote earlier in August. Everyone that you have not seen since Christmas (or before that) will want to try and hang out with you (you popular person, you). Realize that there may not be time for everyone. It’s sad, but it’s realistic. Better not to make too many plans lest you let someone down.
2. Be responsible. I don’t mean that you have to stay at home with your cat and watch daytime television for the next week, but make sure you don’t party too hard or you’ll find you might end up missing out on a lot more of the break than you had anticipated.
3. Try to do something productive. Alright, this is the most difficult thing you’ll have to attempt to do during your time off. While it will be good for you to relax this the week, you’ll be doing yourself a disservice by not doing a little work. Look at it this way: doing it now means you won’t have to do it the week after when you’re back in class.

Anyway, I have a lot of reading to catch up on. And if by this point in my post you did not follow my clever little asterisk, reading means sleeping.

To find out if I crack open a book this week, you can follow me here.

Fraser Tripp

* for the purposes of this blog, the word “read” and any variation of the word (e.g. reading) now carries the same definition as the word “sleep.” Because I’m funny like that.

Reading week is as much about “reading” as a smartphone is about making telephone calls: we know what we’re supposed to be using it for, but there are just so many other fun things to do! Students know they won’t be catching up on their reading as much as they should; professors know that most students won’t get caught up (though that won’t stop them from giving assignments over the break); and administrators know that, despite keeping libraries and student services buildings open, the campus is going to be decidedly student-free for a week.

What you don’t hear too much of is students wondering why they get the break in the first place. Except for Career Options blogger Fraser Tripp, who looked into fall reading breaks last October.

There are a few theories out there, but none of them are particularly good. Let’s have a look.

Theory A: Suicide Prevention

I hear this one being floated around quite often, but whether it holds any water is another matter. The thinking goes that the suicide rate for students spikes around February/March, due to the combined pressures of prolonged academic strain, lengthy exposure to the relative cold and darkness of winter weather, and mounting stress over impending midterms and assignment due dates.

As it turns out, the whole late winter suicide rate spike is probably a myth. The actual months with the highest suicide rates are late July and August (with International Suicide Prevention Awareness Week falling on the first week of September). And while the implementation of a week’s respite in an attempt to cut down on suicides is laudable, the idea that you can “cure” suicidal tendencies with a simple week off is frankly insulting, and indicative of many harmful attitudes that society harbors about mental health. We need to treat this issue far more seriously.

Theory B: Avoiding Sickness

I was told once that reading weeks were first implemented by universities because they wanted to cut down on students missing classes, exams and assignments due to illness. So they created a break period during a time of year when, statistically, the highest number of students would be sick.

I have no idea if there is any evidence to support this, and as five minutes of Internet searching did not provide me with sufficient answers, I’m happy to admit that there’s probably no objective truth to it. However, it always seems like a lot of sick people get sick in February. Just last week I succumbed to illness, along with three or four coworkers. That counts as evidence, right?

Theory C: Ancient Tradition

Western academia’s roots go all the way back to ancient Greece, when Aristotle, Socrates and Plato were prancing around The Academy in togas and sandals. The arrival of spring signalled that society deserved a good old break, full of rest and wine-soaked merrymaking. Of course, in the midst of their philosophizing, scholars wouldn’t have wanted to anger Dionysus, the god of wine (and partying, basically). Accordingly, they most likely took a break in the spring to pay their respects, lest Athena grow too full of herself.

This theory seems to be at least partially accepted, though I may have taken a few creative liberties in the last part there.

My theory? Reading week is good old fashioned holiday distribution. That, and the fact that we’re so used to having breaks associated with school. We progressively get fewer and fewer breaks as we climb the academic ladder from kindergarten to post-secondary. From half days with snacks and nap time, to recess and PD days, to spring break and a two month summer, to reading week and the odd holiday long weekend. Take away reading week, and you’ve upset a clear and logical balance.

And we all know how important balance is. That, and sleeping in.

David Lindskoog

David is a Career Advisor at Simon Fraser University in Surrey, BC.

Read David’s blog at SFU Career Services: Dave’s Diary

Follow David on twitter: @lindenforest

At least, that’s the impression I’ve gathered from telling a host of family, friends and co-workers about my plans to study abroad. When they’re excited for me, it usually centres on the opportunity to travel and the vibrant social scene—not to mention the notorious cliché of Amsterdam as a city solely based around “coffee shops” and legal prostitution.

Of course, I plan to do my fair share of partying and travelling in Europe, but my exchange experience would not be complete without a fulfilling academic experience.

As a journalism student, I was drawn to the Netherlands specifically to take the Research, Travel and Reporting course offered by a university in Utrecht. The course is broken into two parts: two months of lectures followed by independent research and reporting.

Looking at the syllabus, I was convinced I would find the classroom portion to be eight weeks of the same-old learning I’m used to, and that the research portion is where my real learning experience would begin.

After just one week of lectures, I can safely say nothing about studying abroad, including the most basic of lectures, is completely devoid of some new experience. Even in a class dominated by Canadians, eight in a group of 15 international students, you can’t avoid being immersed in a mish-mash of different cultures. In a group of international students, every conversation instantly becomes more worldly, more comparative and more telling. It also sheds light on how far removed you can be from what’s happening in other countries.

Take, for instance, the Finnish presidential election. The result of the recent election and the victory of Sauli Niinisto is something I might have read about in the World News section of The Globe and Mail. Having studied and lived with several Finnish people for just one week, by the time the election results came in on Sunday I felt personally invested in the race: the conservative National Coalition Party candidate versus the Green Party member, and first openly gay candidate to run for president in Finland.

The other thing that studying abroad offers is the opportunity to learn in different ways. In Dutch culture, education is based on the concept of “learning by doing.” It is far removed from the common classroom ideal of one person talking for two hours while hundreds of student make notes (or don’t) of what facts they need to retain. In some ways, I feel like I’ve left university and entered a college setting—or at least what I imagine college learning to be like.

The one thing that remains the same, if not increased, is the actual amount of work that needs to be done. Over time, in university, you can get used to coasting—you learn the tricks of how to get by and how much work really needs to be done to get the grades that you want. In other words, the minimum input required for maximum results.

Studying overseas has a way of kicking these bad habits due to pure confusion. I’m not sure exactly what’s important and what needs to be done—so for now I’m going to do exactly everything I’m told to do, on time, and with an academic enthusiasm usually reserved for keen first-year students and those with looming graduate school applications. It’s the kind of goody two-shoes approach I have always aimed for but never quite been able to pull off. Who knew going Dutch was all it would take?

Erin Jackson

Have no fear. It happens to everyone every once in a while. Unfortunately, as nice as it may sound to just “Keep Calm and Carry On,” or any variation of the saying, the pressure won’t always disappear with a calming breath.

This is my first winter mid-term season and it is definitely taking its toll on me. My usual procrastinatory lifestyle just isn’t cutting it—and that’s something I’ve been working on. Now a month back into school, things are beginning to pile up, and my go-get-’em overachieving half isn’t complimenting my previously discussed way of coping with work.

Over the past few weeks I have slowly started discovering the power of Just Saying No. For some people this is an easy task. I, however, have the hardest time with saying no due to the fear of letting someone down. Most of the time I can handle the many tasks I take on, but sometimes I just collapse under the weight.

In these rare cases, however, there’s actually a greater chance for disappointment than had I just said no in the first place. While it might be inconvenient for the other party, I can often save them a headache by just being honest and letting them know I just don’t have the time to help them out.

While you may feel selfish turning someone down when they ask you to take their shift at work, run an errand for them, take on some extra responsibility for a club or society, you’ll actually be doing the mature thing by realizing that you cannot overextend yourself.

The first step to saying no is to prioritize. School and work commitments should come first. If you have a number of assignments due and/or a number of shifts at work, then it might not be a good idea to commit yourself to organizing an event for that club you’re part of. You know, the one about the stuff and things. Yeah, that one.

While you might feel like a nuisance by turning down a request, you really don’t have to. You’re an intelligent person and the chances are you can suggest a suitable alternative for the task, or someone else who can help.

I’m going to keep this post short for this week because I have a paper that I am slowly falling behind on. Luckily, I realize this and will hopefully be able to follow my above advice. However, in the meantime I am sure to be Tweeting my countless frustrations, so feel free to follow along.

Fraser Tripp

Racism isn’t openly discussed very often in Canada. Indeed, many Canadians believe that it simply isn’t a problem in our society. Canada is widely seen, both at home and abroad, as one of the most tolerant and integrated nations in the world. It’s understandable: we are a country built by immigration, by people who have come from all over the world. Multiculturalism as a phenomenon is largely due to its successful implementation as official government policy.

Multiculturalism is a defining trait of Canada and the Canadian identity. For decades it has been a source of pride and inspiration for us, a successful experiment in which different cultural traditions have come together to create a unique national mosaic. Rather than letting this tradition slowly erode, it is more crucial than ever that we strive to promote our cultural diversity and teach its value to young Canadians.

Unfortunately, our ostensibly harmonious utopia still struggles with prejudice and hate crimes. From the uproar over the Shafia family and “honour killings” and contentious Afro-centric schooling, to the ever-present tension among French Canadians and their latent fear of being swamped by outside forces, Canada still has work to do. Much like the United States, islamophobia and distrust of Muslims as a group exists here—some studies suggest that up to a third of Canadians hold such views.

As younger demographics become more and more detached from the political process and the history of Canada’s evolution, we risk a generation of Canadians growing up unappreciative of what these policies strove to create and why they were important. People tend to fear what they don’t understand; if our young people do not understand the richness that multiculturalism adds to the national identity, we risk that intolerance might find a foothold in their minds.

Quebec is, unsurprisingly, a special case. The relations between Quebec and the English-speaking provinces has always hinged on differences rooted in culture. The current debates on the reasonable accommodation of religious and cultural minorities highlight the levels of xenophobia that pervade much of Quebec’s society. In terms of immigration and multiculturalism, successive Quebec governments have greeted newcomers with uneasy acceptance or even outright hostility.

Quebeckers, ever mindful of encroachment on their culture, have set up limits on who can come to Quebec, largely based on language and whether or not they are likely to assimilate into the francophone majority. Some politicians have even charged that multiculturalism poses a threat to Quebec, and is a “Canadian value—not a Quebec one.” For young Quebeckers who are unsure of where they stand on the question of national unity, such statements only boost the potential for prejudices to find root. As Quebec’s political power in the federation wanes in favour of the western provinces, complacency cannot let the issues the province faces be ignored—they must be tackled with a more fervent aggression than ever before.

As Canada continues to mature, the ways of the past must be adapted to create a prosperous future. In 2012, while we glorify wars and triumphs of bygone years, the quieter events—when we built the foundations of our society—must be celebrated as well. A memorial for the War of 1812 is well and good, but where is the pomp and ceremony for our social and cultural successes as a nation? Where is the push to educate children and new Canadians on values like respect, liberty, diversity and intercultural exchange? We have a government willing to spend billions of dollars to lock people up, but not to teach children and immigrants about what makes Canada great.

With 30 years of multiculturalism as policy behind us, the next 30 will be just as crucial in guiding Canadians forward. Fostering those values is the key to stopping the negative effects of racism and prejudice in their tracks, and creating a brighter future for all Canadians, regardless of their origins.

Philip Cutter

At the time, I didn’t really understand why audiences were so impressed by my ability to give speeches. However, when I think about it now, it’s clear: it was 19 years ago, and I was 8 years old.

It was a nerve-wracking experience at first, and while the butterflies I got the first time I stepped up to a podium never really went away, I learned to harness and channel that energy into something useful over time. Fear of public speaking is not rare—in fact, it’s often thought of as one of the most common fears out there. Yet we live in a world in which presenting or performing in front of groups of people is virtually unavoidable, particularly so in a post-secondary setting.

As I grew up and stopped giving public speeches in my free time, I realized that not everyone had the same comfort level speaking in front of others that I did. When I got to university, I discovered that there was nothing quite so painfully uncomfortable as watching a peer absolutely bomb a class presentation. An uncomfortable speaker’s nervousness seems to radiate throughout the entire room, unfailingly infecting innocent audience members (not to mention evaluating professors). The awkwardness is palpable.

You don’t want to inflict that pain on others. More importantly, you don’t want to experience that pain yourself! So, I’ll share a couple of common mistakes to avoid and my number one tip for making your next presentation memorable (and maybe even pleasant).

Mistake: No preparation

Okay, we’ll start with the obvious one. If you get nervous about giving presentations, it’s not enough to just make a few slides and hope for the best once you get up in front of the room. Some people are capable of doing this, because they’re able to access important information stored in their memory through associations—they know the subject matter well overall, so talking about one thing progresses naturally to the next.

When you’re nervous, however, that ability to “wing it” is severely impaired, because so much of your mental energy is just focused on the immediate environment. You’ve likely heard about the “fight or flight” response: effectively, your entire nervous system goes into high gear when it senses you’re being threatened. Hence the quickened pulse, hair-trigger senses, and feeling like you could run a mile in a minute. You’re biologically less able to make associations requiring complex cognition, because your body is focusing on simply surviving.

The solution is to spend more time preparing and rehearsing so that the things you want to say become more and more automatic, and your memory requires fewer associations to arrive at them. Another helpful strategy is to employ mnemonic devices or distinctive visual cues to trigger those associations for you, so that you’re not relying on arriving at them yourself.

Mistake: Over-relying on presentation slides

Is there anything more boring than a presenter who simply reads the text off of their slides, without adding any new information or elaboration? There are two problems here: visual information overload, and incredibly flat presentations style. Have you heard of the “magic number 7, plus or minus 2”? It’s famously thought to represent the number of things we can hold in our working memory at a time. In today’s age of unprecedented access to information, it’s likely even less than that. So, if we can only really think about 3 or 4 things at a time, why present more information than that on a single slide?

As far as presentation style is concerned, a dynamic presenter will provide information that is complementary to any visuals they use. You want people to focus on you? Why would they if the only thing you’re giving them is information they can read for themselves? You have to bring something unique to the table.

Awesome tip: Tell a story

Our lives are collections of stories. We tell stories about others, about ourselves, about the world. It’s how we’ve transmitted knowledge as a species for thousands of years, to the point where we are evolutionarily hard-wired to use and understand narrative information. We grow up listening to and mimicking childhood stories, we write and act out stories in school, we read books, watch TV shows, and go to movies to be entertained by stories. It’s inarguable that stories are an integral and intuitive part of human life.

A great speech or presentation will have a clear sense of narrative structure. As opposed to a mere collection of facts or disjointed arguments, it will have a unifying, underlying story that ties everything together, giving it context, and making it more understandable and relatable.

It’s not always easy, but it’s worth it, even when you’re only 8 years old.

David Lindskoog

David is a Career Advisor at Simon Fraser University in Surrey, BC.

Read David’s blog at SFU Career Services: Dave’s Diary

Follow David on twitter: @lindenforest

As of yet, nobody is really sure what the government’s next steps will be. Stephen Harper has worked long and hard to establish his Conservative party as the keepers of the Canadian economy. After finally achieving his long-coveted majority in 2011, Harper certainly has some political wiggle room. The main opposition parties are still in shambles, both lacking a permanent leader, and struggling to establish their own narratives against the Conservatives’ legislative juggernaut. The population has been generally, if reticently, supportive of the Mr. Harper’s economic management and policies. Although there would likely be no better time in his mandate to tackle potentially unpopular issues, retirement and immigration are always two of the biggest potential minefields in Canadian politics.

Canadians of all ages and dispositions trend towards a liberal worldview when it comes to social services. New Canadians and young people who work hard expect to be treated the same way as those who retire before them. Those expectations, to end work at a reasonable age and be able to live comfortably, with access to reliable healthcare and other services, are prominent factors in keeping this block of voters happy and supportive. A government that jeopardizes those expectations risks a massive blowback. Indeed, historically, such tinkering has not gone over well. When Brian Mulroney proposed to de-index pensions in 1985, the backlash was severe. The government recovered enough to win re-election, but not without shelving its plans. Similarly, the Liberals of 1995 wanted to alter the pension system as part of their economic reforms but were shot down by Prime Minister Chrétien to prevent political risks.

Older Canadians have consistently supported Stephen Harper in large numbers. His party’s constant message of stability and consistency resonates with their demographic; and up until now, they have been rewarded. Similarly, the suggestion that there could be changes in who is allowed to immigrate to Canada will shake the increasingly powerful and voter-rich ridings, flush with increasingly affluent new Canadians, that the Conservatives successfully courted in their quest for a majority.

The bulk of his policies thus far have benefited older, new and upper-middle-class Canadians, and have been opposed principally by much younger demographics (the groups that tend to support the Liberals and New Democrats). That he is now considering tinkering with policies his bedrock voter base hold dear has been labeled by some as a potential turning point for the Conservatives—maybe even political suicide.

It is important to note, however, that there is truth to certain elements of what the government wants to address. By virtue of their needs, older individuals use a greater share of social services. As our population’s average age increases, programs like retirement benefits and healthcare will become increasingly stressed. As more people immigrate and become Canadians, the number of years they contribute to the work force before retiring and accessing benefits also becomes a factor. By encouraging people to work even a bit longer, the government stands to realize cost decreases in the billions.

Indeed, to prevent destabilization of certain segments of the Canadian economy, reforms of some sort will be needed, whether now or down the road. However, how the government chooses to go about these changes, whom they affect, and how sudden or severe they are will all impact how the population perceives them. For many, it hardly seems fair to work hard and prepare for retirement only to have the goal posts moved as they near the finish.

Until the Tories make their intentions clear, particularly through the budget due in March, guessing at Mr. Harper’s real plans is only speculation. Whatever happens, he must tread carefully: until now, despite opposition from certain segments, he has managed to maintain a tense but stable coalition of voters across the country to stay in power. This plan, borne of ideology rather than a desire for political gain, is fraught with risk. If he fumbles on this, his plan to make the Conservatives Canada’s new “natural governing party” may unravel before his eyes.

Philip Cutter

When I first entered university in 2003, my dad was fond of reminding me of what his academic experience was like back in the day. As I laboriously leafed through my school’s phone-book-sized calendar in search of course offerings (yes, it wasn’t that long ago that paper calendars were the norm), in order to plunk them into an online course registration system whose ease of use can best be described by the phrase “brain-punch,” there was no paternal sympathy to be found.

The story goes that my dad and students of his generation had to actually run around to various departments and classrooms on campus (no easy feat at a school equal in geographical area to a small town) in order to have the professors themselves register students for their classes. Due to limited class sizes and high demand for certain classes, students would frequently have to sprint from one location to another in order to get a spot in their desired classes.

When I imagine it, I can’t help but chuckle to myself. The whole procedure seems like something out of an old black-and-white movie, set to jovial piano music.

Of course, I also heard plenty of stories about how dad’s assignments were all painstakingly composed on a typewriter while I grudgingly word-processed my way through various introductory English essays. Being 18, I didn’t give my dad’s sentiments much more than a cursory thought —somehow other matters were more pressing.

It’s funny how things come full circle sometimes, though. A little while ago, Apple launched iTunes U. Being an interested observer of and participant in matters pertaining to post-secondary education, I decided to check out the app on my iPhone. Within a span of less than 5 minutes, I had downloaded access to a real astronomy course, complete with course materials, textbooks, assignments, and videos of every lecture for a class offered at Yale.

On my phone. Without paying a cent.

I’m not sure what my dad would have to say about that—I should probably ask him. Regardless, I still have a bit of my own shock to deal with. I don’t fundamentally believe there’s anything truly groundbreaking about iTunes U; after all, course content has been online for years now. What’s really impressed me about it is how accessible and neatly packaged it all is.

Obviously, new technologies have the ability to change the way universities go about their business—this is nothing new. However, developments like iTunes U (which is totally free) could be the start of a new way of thinking about higher education. Combined with Apple’s concurrent move to begin selling textbooks via iTunes (I apologize for coming off as a major Apple enthusiast, but I haven’t yet heard of other companies doing stuff like this), it’s clear that today, higher education is more accessible than it ever has been.

And, as a major proponent of the accessibility of higher education, I can’t help but see this as a great thing. So, while there aren’t any credentials to be gained from it, don’t be surprised if you start seeing people like me trying out astronomy assignments, reading lecture notes on Shakespeare, or even watching political science lectures on their phones during their commute.

David Lindskoog

David is a Career Advisor at Simon Fraser University in Surrey, BC.

Read David’s blog at SFU Career Services: Dave’s Diary

Follow David on twitter: @lindenforest

From kindergarten all the way up to Grade 9, I was required to take French. You’d think after 10 years of French classes that I would be fairly proficient in the language. Throw in the extra year I took in Grade 10 and you’d still be wrong.

Due to my apparent failure with the French language, I thought I was hopeless with any and all others. So I wasn’t too keen when I discovered that I needed at least one language credit to complete my degree. Fast-forward 5 months from September, and I’m actually doing okay in my attempts to learn German, so I thought I would examine what has made the difference.

1. The Desire: While a language course most likely would not have been my first choice as an elective, I at least had my pick of languages. After my French debacle, I decided it would probably be best to avoid the romantic languages for now. Ever since Grade 3 when my friend Eva attempted to teach me German (I can’t apologize enough to her even to this day), I have found the language quite interesting. German is not as pretty as most others, but it definitely has an appealing rhythm to it. I feel that since I am learning a language I’m legitimately interested in, it has been that much easier.
2. The Time: While I technically had French class every day for two semesters in high school, the amount of time we spent never seemed to be enough to solidify any of the concepts. While I only have 4 hours of German a week (two 2-hour classes), the longer periods allow me to learn a new concept and then put it into practice in class.
3. Practice: In a high school setting, classes generally aren’t set up very well for the actual application of a language. Most of the time we would do exercises from textbooks or handouts, which was just learning by repetition. We were never given another context in which to use the language. With the extra time in lecture, I now have the opportunity to try out new words and apply them to something other than the textbook.
4. Context: If you ever took a language course before post-secondary, you might have found the material (and sometimes the teacher) taking a very juvenile approach. The scenarios never seemed very age-appropriate, and therefore I never had any desire to attempt to use the language. Post-secondary language courses have a tendency to take their audience into account and (at least in the case of my German course) put forth scenarios that we might one day find ourselves in—for example, traveling.
5. Culture: While it did come up every once in a while, the culture of France was never truly demonstrated to me in my 11 years of attempting to learn the language. This time around I have learned a great deal about Germany through film, music and the experiences of my TA (who just happens to come from Berlin). Placing the language within actual German culture has made it much more enjoyable.

While not every language course will reflect the one I am currently taking, I am glad that I still have a chance (however small it may be) to become bilingual. If I ever master German, I might possibly return to my efforts in French… though probably not.

Anyway, I have to return to Facebook. Turing 20 has become a real chore and I’m beginning to understand why some people put off responding to e-mails. It’s extremely tedious and they just keep piling up.

Fraser Tripp

SOPA (Stop Online Piracy Act) and PIPA (Protect IP Act) are bills designed to curb what many industries see as an increasingly prevalent culture of theft and piracy on the Internet, particularly media sharing that violates copyright and intellectual privacy rights. The bills, at the outset, seem to be fair in intent: those who create content should receive credit and payment for their work, and should be able to control its use and distribution. The problem, however, is not necessarily the intent—to stop infringement of intellectual property rights—but rather the bills’ arbitrary heavy-handedness.

The bills give the American government broad powers to shut down websites and online businesses for even suspected acts of piracy or complicity in violating copyright laws. Opponents charge that the bills threaten innovation and free speech, and people’s right to access information in a free and fair way. Given the deeply democratic nature of the Internet as a global domain that is, ostensibly, outside any single nation or government’s control, there has been an understandable uprising. The notion of the American government being able to essentially shut down entire web domains over a single link or blog post alarmed and outraged many digital heavyweights.

Those that support the laws decried the blackout as a publicity stunt, while those against them pointed to the ensuing outcry as an example of the strength that exists within the new digital culture. The international response was considerable, given the popularity of the affected sites, and drew mainstream media attention to the cause.

The scope of the proposed laws threatens to undermine the integral social aspect of the Internet as not only a point of information exchange, but a point of human connection. Particularly among young people, social interaction and the traditional methods teenagers use to communicate have shifted into the digital realm; imposing restrictions on these elements would certainly be unpopular and could be dangerous. American social researcher Danah Boyd’s work on how young people interact in the digital universe has been turning heads for pointing out the role the web plays in providing resources and assistance for young people in need. Clamping down on a website for unconfirmed copyright infringement may have wider consequences if that site also serves as a much-needed safe space for a person or people at risk.

From the sharing of media and information to uses in commerce and education, the Web is unprecedented in human history in terms of a structural network for connecting people. Innovation—the ability to work around problems and find solutions—is probably the greatest defining feature of what the Internet has evolved into since its inception several decades ago. It is because of this feature, this ability to integrate different people’s expertise to generate amazing results, that trying to limit or restrict the Internet’s flow will always be unsuccessful. From SOPA and PIPA to the Chinese government’s strong censorship of information internally, efforts that at first seem successful continually face the buffeting force of a global storm, as people around the world come together to push until the entire control system topples over.

The democratization of knowledge has always been a powerful force; the digital age has only led to an increase in the speed and size of this body of open information. While we must ensure that people’s rights and works are treated properly and the credit for those works given when due, we cannot allow a trampling of other fundamental freedoms in response. The free and uninhibited flow of information is the key to any open, democratic society and that must encompass the vast resources contained in the Internet. These proposed laws are, frankly, woefully inadequate in fulfilling that goal; perhaps the authors should have gone online and done a little more research before proposing them.

Philip Cutter

That’s a lot of young Canadians without jobs—roughly 14%, or double the national average for all ages. Of course, it’s easy to look at statistics like this and think to ourselves, “wow, that sucks,” before going on with the rest of our day, not really giving it another thought. In a way, we have to do this, lest we become so overwhelmed by the injustices of the world that we’re no longer able to function. But, like most injustices, there are very real and very harmful consequences of such apathy when it comes to the problem of youth unemployment.

The youth unemployment crisis is about more than a bunch of kids without spending money. In the ecology of the Canadian labour market, youth are but one piece of a highly interconnected system, and when problems affecting youth employment become more and more significant, there is a predictable effect on the other parts of the system.

To speak plainly, this is a multigenerational—no, an omnigenerational issue (yes, it’s a big enough deal that I will use a word that may not actually exist to describe it). In other words, it’s everybody’s problem. The aging baby boomer population is about to exit the workforce (at least this is what they hope) in such mass numbers that a major chunk of all new jobs created in the next 10 years is going to due solely to retirements.

That’s a good thing, right? There will be plenty of positions open for younger generations to fill. So, Gen X and to some extent Gen Y will begin to fill these holes. This works great—up to the point where there are more skilled workers retiring than there are suitable replacements. Suddenly, you’ve got positions at senior levels still needing to be filled, in addition to shortages at lower levels due to the portion of the skilled workforce who were promoted to fill those senior roles.

So where do we turn for new skilled labour to fill these holes? Obviously, youth is the answer. The only problem is that a significant chunk of those youth will be unable to take on those positions, because they will have been unemployed so long that they have effectively disengaged from the labour market. In the end, what we’ll be looking at is a massive labour market shortage, and I don’t need to elaborate on how that will be a problem.

The solution lies with engaging these unemployed (and underemployed) youth now, before they become disengaged. It’s everyone’s responsibility to find ways to change this disturbing trend, before it’s too late. But how?

Enter efforts such as the XYBOOM conference this Friday in Vancouver. A non-traditional conference stressing action, participation, dialogue and creativity, XYBOOM will see professional representatives of all three generations working directly with youth to discuss ideas and begin to plant the seeds of change.

It’s an encouraging effort, one that deserves to be lauded and repeated in other areas of the country. As a facilitator of one of the off-site live streaming locations of the conference, I’ll be very excited to see what comes out of it. I think you should, too.

Visit xyboom.ca for more information.

David Lindskoog

David is a Career Advisor at Simon Fraser University in Surrey, BC.

Read David’s blog at SFU Career Services: Dave’s Diary

Follow David on twitter: @lindenforest

Next Monday I will have lived 20 years of my life. That’s about a quarter of my life, if you go by the average life expectancy of a male in Canada. Every time it comes up, that I will be turning 20, I have exactly the same reaction:

“That’s just weird.”

This realization has had me reflecting on what I’ve done with the first 20 years of my life. Of course, this being part of the earlier (fingers crossed) part of my life, the highlights aren’t that unique.

I spent quite a few years honing my musical abilities, graduated from (the best high school in Canada. Don’t fight me on this. We had students who talked to the walls…to the walls) Canterbury High School and attended Humber College briefly to continue my musical studies in one of the top performance programs in North America.

While on paper this doesn’t seem to amount to much, these events shaped who I currently am. Studying music introduced me to a lot of opportunities, the most prominent being Canterbury’s arts program. It was there that I gained my love for the urban life and cultural experiences and my hatred of bad transit systems and the Ottawa Senators. Why do you need to be at the arena three hours before the game even begins, people?! I just wanted to get home in an hour! Was that too much to ask?

Anyway, my admission to Humber meant my move to Toronto, perhaps my favourite experience of the past 20 years. While it didn’t stick, due to educational reasons, returning to Toronto is currently one of the things that drives me to do well.

Now in my “first” year of post-secondary education, in Carleton University’s journalism program, I am honing different skills while creating new opportunities for myself. Nothing groundbreaking, but it’ll do for now.

So, now that I have lived nearly a fifth of my life (I’ve decided to be optimistic), I thought I would come up with a tentative bucket list.

First things first: complete a degree. It doesn’t have to be in my current program; I just want one of those expensive pieces of paper.

Second: become successful in at least one form of online media. This could be anything from my own personal blog to reviving my YouTube account.

Third: live in Toronto again. This also goes together with my other goals of living in New York for a period as well as pretty much anywhere in Europe.

Fourth: write a novel. I haven’t done much in terms of writing fiction or anything longer than 10 pages, but I feel like I always have ideas running around in my head; I just never write them down.

Of course, this is not an exhaustive list. In fact, whenever I start a list it just tends to grow on its own. Probably not the best practice when it comes to a list of things I want to do before my time on this planet is through, but it can’t be helped. There is always something new to do.

My biggest regret about turning 20, however, is the fact that I will never again be a teenager. It’s almost like it was an excuse to get away with pretty much anything and pretty soon I’ll be forced into responsibility. Oh well, I’ve heard that for most people the 20-somethings were the best time of their life.

Wish me luck and hopefully I’ll live another 20 years. That would be nice.

To find out if I have a quarter-life crisis or go through another Age 20 Transition follow me here!

To hear about any new blogs as they go up, follow Career Options as well and check them out on Facebook!

Fraser Tripp

For a while, I had a bit of a blogging iron-man streak going. From September 2010 up until last month, I was writing an article a week for my blog at work, which became two articles a week once the folks here asked me to come on board. I was in the blogging zone; inspiration came quickly and spontaneously, and the fact that I very often had no idea what I would be writing about until I sat down to write wasn’t a problem in the slightest. If anything, the last-minute nature of this kind of writing allowed me to write prolifically with a minimum time investment.

And so it was, for quite a while.

Last month, though, something changed. For the first time since I started writing regularly, I genuinely struggled to find inspiration. I felt that the quality of my writing began to suffer, and—perhaps most alarming of all—this thing that I had once found enjoyable started to feel a little bit like a chore, and somewhat stressful. My blog posts at work, usually posted on Fridays, began to appear on Saturdays, Sundays and Mondays as I was unable to complete my writing within the time I usually allot myself on Friday mornings. I even missed a couple of weeks writing here (and for that, anonymous faithful readers, I do apologize).

As with many things in life, the reflection required to figure this kind of stuff out often happens after the fact. It was as though I was in some kind of fog, and was devoting whatever faculties I had to simply navigating through it as best I could, without stopping to think about how I got into the fog in the first place. Predictably, I stumbled around for some time until I found a place to stop, rest and think for a while (aka the holiday break).

After giving some thought to the issue, I have come to a few conclusions. The first is that I was probably a bit over-taxed by the time December rolled around—not just in terms of writing commitments, but from life in general. We all experience phases where things seem out of balance (read: midterm season), but I think I failed to recognize this was happening to me at the time. In hindsight, a few strategically placed vacation days down the stretch of last semester may have made a nice difference, not to mention investing more time and effort in my physical health.

My other thought is this: I was over-thinking things. Instead of focusing on writing, I was concentrating on producing content. That may seem like the same thing, but to me the former is very much a process, while the latter is all about an end result. This realization was somewhat of an epiphany, as I’ve long preached the wonders of paying attention to the process. You know those sayings about enjoying the journey, not the destination? This is what they’re referring to.

So there it is. I enjoy the act of writing, which is of course the reason why I started doing more of it in the first place. Ironically, the more I did, the further I drifted from engaging in a creative process, to hammering out a bunch of words on a page just to get it done. Sound familiar? If you’ve written more than a few university level papers, it should.

Papers are not fun. I don’t want to write papers. I just want to write! So, write I will. And come hell or high water, I’ll have fun doing it.

Best of luck to everyone in the new semester!

David Lindskoog

David is a Career Advisor at Simon Fraser University in Surrey, BC.

Read David’s blog at SFU Career Services: Dave’s Diary

Follow David on twitter: @lindenforest

It was an odd feeling actually returning for the second semester of lectures. Instead of 3 or 4 months of nothing but sleep and P90X like last year, I’ve been flung back into a solid routine and, as much as I’d like to say I hate it, so far it’s agreed with me.

My holidays were stressful, hardly the relaxing time they should have been. My freedom only began on December 21, after my Canadian History exam. The last exam time slot for my least favourite class—typical.

When I wasn’t studying (which, let’s face it, was more often that I should have been), I was at work. Apparently I wasn’t the only stressed-out person this holiday season, but at least my reason wasn’t last-minute shopping. A side note for those of you who have never worked retail during the holiday season: it is not my fault that you waited until two days before Christmas to buy an extremely popular item and, therefore, you should not be allowed to yell at me, the minimum wage employee.

Throw in my first-ever Boxing Day (both working and actually being near a retail area) and being at home more often than is healthy for my social life, and school became a much-needed break from the holidays.

These past few weeks reminded me a great deal of my time out of school last winter. I had absolutely no structure, little to no contact with my friends (all of whom were in class or otherwise busy), and even when I had a job, the only difference it made was that I had a little more spending money than usual. While total freedom sounds alright, it actually begins to drag. While a cure for this may have been a little bit more cowbell in my life, I found a renewed energy in returning to school.

Maybe I’m destined to become the professional student of my family. There’s one in each family on my Dad’s side. The idea of constantly learning new things sounds extremely appealing. Sure, the idea of endless papers and exams isn’t that glamorous, but I can pretty much guarantee that everyone can think of at least one course they wish they could take because it “looks interesting.” Don’t lie to me. I know you secretly love to learn.

So, as you return to your lectures this week, don’t go in with the attitude that school is a waste of time. Think about what you might be doing instead (*cough* Skyrim *cough*) and consider how you are instead benefitting from the thousands of dollars you (or your parents) pay each year so you can better understand how the world around you works. When you really consider everything you’ve been learning, then you might not mind so much about having to get up for that 8:30 lecture. Well, everything except for math (math has never been my friend).

Fraser Tripp

The government will almost certainly continue on its hard-line path, but what the next steps will be is more difficult to predict. Stephen Harper is nothing if polarizing as a Prime Minister; hate his policies or love them, Mr. Harper is bent on fulfilling his promises. Dismantling the federal long-gun registry, pushing through with controversial crime legislation, and trying to tackle the country’s deficit: these are fire under the feet of the opposition and arguably nothing more than appeals to the Conservatives’ solid voter base. That being said, the government has suffered slightly for its perceived rough touch: several polls show them slipping from their peak support around the May election. The measures have, unsurprisingly, garnered wide support in Western Canada, but have received a rather muted response from Ontario—the province where most governments are made or broken. Quebec has essentially been a slow-motion train wreck for the Conservatives, and their recent policies haven’t helped.

As for the opposition, it’s a bit more difficult to envision what 2012 will bring. The Liberals and the NDP have been trading places in popular support over the past few months, dipping up and down, but maintaining essentially equal levels of support. Much of this is attributable to an NDP drop in Quebec—where Bloc support has begun to rebound after a disastrous year—and a Liberal rise in Ontario. Some polls even have the Liberals neck-and-neck with the governing Conservatives in Canada’s most populous province, but whether that holds in the long term remains to be seen. Much of Stephen Harper’s success in Ontario is the result of vote splitting: when the NDP does well, the Liberals suffer, and the Conservatives ride up the middle. If either opposition party massively falters to the benefit of the other, it could spell trouble for Mr. Harper and his swath of new Ontario MPs.

Provincial politics are likely to be much more interesting than federal politics next year. All the elections of 2012 restored their respective governments—Saskatchewan, Manitoba, Ontario, Newfoundland and PEI all re-elected incumbent governments. Indeed, this trend toward stability was likely one of the largest factors in Mr. Harper’s winning his coveted majority. In 2012 we will see elections in Alberta—Alison Redford’s PCs will likely continue their four-decade domination of the province—and possibly BC and Quebec as well. It is these latter provinces that bode to be highly interesting races, if elections indeed occur. BC’s governing Liberals are languishing in the face of an invigorated NDP. Quebec is in complete disarray; for the first time since the 1970s, people are dealing with a political option besides the old “sovereigntist-federalist” choices. There is a good chance that a Quebec election could wipe out the governing Liberals, and send the Parti Quebecois into the political wilderness to join its federal cousin, the Bloc.

And, finally, there is the perennial unknown of what influences the outside world will bring to the table this year. International activity, both political and economic, can and will have effects on Canada. What those effects will be in 2012, however, is virtually impossible to predict. The state of the economy is the federal government’s bedrock; years of Conservatives portraying themselves as sensible economic managers have paid off handsomely. But if the international economic decline seeps into Canada and undermines confidence, the government could find themselves in trouble from a problem that is out of their hands. At the same time, political strife abroad could work to Mr. Harper’s advantage and allow him to hammer home the message that a Conservative majority may not be everyone’s preferred choice, but it’s far better than the fractured instability of many other national governments.

It is often said the only true constant is change, but for the time being, Canada seems to be bucking the trend and favouring the status quo instead of the unknown. Even the stability is dynamic, however, and what transpires over the next 12 months is anyone’s guess. As we’ve seen outside Canada, the foundations we’ve trusted for so long could be pulled out from under us incredibly quickly.

Philip Cutter

Even now, a few years later, I still get lost from time to time trying to grasp the full possibilities of the medium. I’m by no means a “power user,” with just under 200 followers on my personal account (an unknown percentage of which are spam accounts), but I’ve now spent what I would call a good amount of quality time using Twitter, both for personal use and for work. During that time I’ve had a realization every now and then that reminds me of what this mysterious communication tool is capable of.

One of my first “aha” moments using Twitter happened pretty quickly after I decided to start putting some effort into it. I had started to follow some big name theorists in the field of career development, as well as some influential writers about the subject. Around the same time, I was doing some writing on this blog, and for the print version of Career Options magazine, on the Chaos Theory of Careers (CTC). After mentioning the article I wrote on Twitter, Jim Bright— arguably the man most responsible for developing and promoting the CTC—tweeted about my article. And it wasn’t even to say that I had gotten it all wrong!

So, one of my first Twitter-piphanies (that’s Twitter + epiphany… help me!) involved interactions with people that I would have had no chance to connect with otherwise.

As cool as that experience was, I’ve more recently had another kind of Twitter experience that I didn’t foresee back when I started: meeting Twitter users in person! This has happened to me twice in the last week or so, both times at work, and both times completely unexpectedly.

It sounds weird, but in meeting these people, there was a certain instant bond. The person who was once just a small square image and a bunch of lines of text before, is now standing and talking to you at an office Christmas party! How… human!

I thought for a while about why it was so refreshing to meet these people in real life, and I’m fairly sure it has to do with genuineness. These days it’s so easy to be inauthentic in an online medium, where the guise of anonymity is so present. Even in a situation where you know someone’s name and profile picture are the real thing, the sense of being removed from them remains in online interactions. While it’s easy to say that this is because we are removed from them in so many ways, the fact is that online communication such as that found on Twitter is only growing more prominent—and so we need to find ways to bridge the gap.

Now that I’ve met those aforementioned people, it’s as if something has been confirmed: they are real. There is actually a living, breathing human behind the screen that has been interacting with me this entire time. And that means something far more meaningful than a few re-tweets or mentions can ever describe.

David Lindskoog

David is a Career Advisor at Simon Fraser University in Burnaby, BC.

Read David’s blog at SFU Career Services: Dave’s Diary

Follow David on twitter: @lindenforest

The current government has made no secret of its skeptical stance on climate change. The booming of Alberta’s oil sands and the government’s near-obsessive focus on the state of the economy have earned the Conservatives support across the country and, arguably, a majority government. There is a significant portion of Canadian society that refutes the scientific consensus regarding climate change—and the fact that these people largely make up the Conservative voter base is no coincidence.

There is little debate among the scientific community on the validity of anthropogenic climate change. Questions remain about the overall causes, but the vast majority of scientific minds agree: the planet’s climate is warming, human industrial activity is the cause, and all nations must work together to drastically reduce carbon emissions if we are to avoid disaster. Much like the so-called controversy over evolution in American public education, the matter is firmly settled within academic circles. Like evolution, the “debate” of whether climate change is real exists only in the world of politics.

If politicians like Stephen Harper want to do nothing to mitigate the effects of climate change, so be it; some minds just can’t be changed. It is foolish, however, to allow them to stand in front of a microphone, unchallenged, and openly deny that humanity is changing our planet’s atmosphere and biosphere. People like the Prime Minister deny climate change not because they believe it isn’t happening, but because they prioritize their own short-term financial gain over the long-term health of this planet and its population. Given how brutally unpopular this choice would be politically if it were to be stated openly and publicly, it is easy to see why they twist facts and spin words to convince voters that all is well, nothing is wrong, and they should continue pumping litres and litres of gas into their SUVs.

The eventual effects of climate change are not yet fully known, but they will certainly reach far and wide. Here in Canada, we’ll likely be spared the brunt of the problems and instead have to deal with mild inconveniences; extreme heat waves and droughts, failed crops and poor air quality are just things we’ll learn to live with. Of course, for the people of Tuvalu, the Maldives and other island nations, the catastrophes are already beginning. The sea will slowly swallow up their countries; their histories and way of life will be destroyed while more prosperous, industrialized nationss continue to churn out greenhouse gases and destroy forests for the oil in the sand below them. Millions of people on low plains and river deltas in Bangladesh and coastal India will lose everything to floods and monsoons, but that’s not really Canada’s problem, is it?

The blame game—the idea that when multiple people contribute to a problem, nobody has to shoulder any responsibility—is ultimately at the heart of the climate crisis. For Canada, the fact that we are responsible for “only” 2% of global emissions allows our government to proclaim it the responsibility of bigger emitters like China and the United States to fix the problem. In other words, our contribution to the problem is so small that it doesn’t matter whether we contribute to the solution. As Jeffrey Simpson pointed out in the Globe and Mail this week, this idea becomes ridiculous when expanded upon: did Canada refuse to fight in World War II because it was mostly a European problem? Have we refused aid to impoverished countries because we have comparatively less money than, say, the much larger United States?

Of course not. We don’t fight HIV, poverty and human rights abuses around the world because they’re our problems alone. We stand up to such things because it is the right thing to do, the good thing to do. We help those in need; we mobilize to protect the values we cherish, because we are compassionate, just, and guided by morality. Why then are we so willing to sit back and allow oil companies to slowly poison the planet around us? Where is our morality now, our Canadian way of interceding to help those in need, be it for polar bears or our fellow human beings?

The Kyoto Accord has its flaws; there is no denying it. But the goal it embodies, the spirit of international cooperation to solve a problem that affects every single human being in every country, is what makes it so vitally important. Those goals are why Kyoto needs to be fixed, not thrown away in a false hope that something better will replace it—it won’t.

From Copenhagen in 2009, Mexico in 2010, to Durban in 2011, we have committed to nothing but some vague, non-binding agreements to “do something”… later. For so many people, in so many countries, later will be too late. It is terrible, then, that Canada of all countries would be the first to throw Kyoto aside, to assign those most vulnerable to climate change to near-certain ruin, under the guise of it being unworkable. The reality though is that we don’t want to pay for it; we have abandoned people for profit and our international reputation has been left in tatters because of it. Unless apathy and greed are now Canadian values, we have nothing to be proud of right now.

Philip Cutter

Possibly. The basics of a good interview are not complicated. Research the organization and the position in question; practise answering questions about how you and the job are a good fit; give plenty of examples; put some effort into your appearance and the first impression you make; be yourself – the list goes on.

When it comes to job interviews, most people will tell you that it’s best to prepare as much as possible, then prepare some more. On the surface, this sounds like good advice. Dig a little deeper though, and you’ll find that as bad as it is to under-prepare for an interview, it’s just as detrimental to over-prepare.

But wait a second, can this really be a bad thing? Isn’t it best to know everything inside-out, to feel supremely confident in yourself, to have your answers memorized such that it’s no effort at all to spit them out come crunch time?

The short answer, as you may have guessed, is a resounding ‘No!’

First of all, discard any notions you have of the “perfect” job interview, now and forever. The idea that you can be fully prepared for any interview is a myth – it’s something people will tell you to ease your insecurities, give you false hope, and make themselves feel like they’re helping you out. What they’re really doing is giving you a one-dimensional view of a process that is decidedly three-dimensional.

Here’s the thing. You’re probably taking this job application very seriously (as well you should), and despite the elation you feel about being invited for an interview, you start to feel more and more nervous as the date of the interview draws nearer. “It’s the perfect job!” you say. “The more I prepare, the less nervous I’ll feel, right?”

Maybe. But let’s take a closer look at what’s going on in your mind as you continue to prepare for your interview. At first, your efforts calm you down, giving you more confidence. You feel like you’re doing something, which is better than doing nothing. You’ve got some ideas for answers prepared, you’ve thought of some good examples to illustrate your key strengths, you’ve come up with some questions to ask the interviewers – things are going well.

Before long, though, you start to worry: What if I forget this answer, or this piece of research I found out about the company? What if, in the heat of the moment, I suddenly blank out and totally forget what I was going to say? With this fresh helping of stress on your shoulders, you redouble your preparation efforts, convinced that the only way to ensure this interview goes the way you want it to is to memorize as many of your responses as possible. Your thinking narrows as you attempt to mentally control more and more variables, and the more you convince yourself that you can control things, the more you realize you can’t.

And suddenly, the interview day is upon you. You might now find yourself in any of the following predicaments:

1. You’re too rigidly sticking to the plan.

Good interviewers are notorious for asking questions that are not possible to prepare for. All that effort you put into devising answers won’t help you when it comes to questions you weren’t expecting. You might start repeating answers, or you might have a “blank out” experience and be left with no choice but to awkwardly “wing it.” Worst of all, you might give a response that doesn’t answer the question that was asked.

2. You sound more like a robot than a person.

Trust me, scripted or memorized answers make you look and sound bad. If it’s clear to the interviewers that this is something you’ve said thirty or forty times to yourself in front of the mirror, you’re flirting with losing something that’s very hard to get back: your authenticity. The best interviews feel more like conversations than interrogations, and your ability to be present and conversant will be hampered if you’re busy thinking about what your next response is going to be.

3. You’re more nervous than you would be otherwise.
This might sound weird, but the more effort you put into something, the more nervous you’re likely to feel about it. Once you cross the line of investing too much time and energy into preparing for an interview, the stakes are raised and they’re not coming back down. We all have a cracking point, so it’s important not to put too much pressure on yourself. If you can retain a healthy perspective about the fact that this is one job interview for one job, of which there are likely to be many more, you will lower the pressure on yourself to perform perfectly.

In a way, interviewing someone who’s over-prepared can be just as disappointing as someone who’s under-prepared, because you can see how much they really care and how much work they’ve put into their interview, yet they still didn’t impress you. There’s a sense of lost potential.

So, when you’re getting ready for your next interview, do prepare enough so that you’re well-educated about the position and ready to discuss how you’ll be of value, but leave yourself plenty of room for things that come up in the moment. Be flexible, be adaptable, and most importantly, be human (which means that, no, you’re not perfect).

David Lindskoog

David is a Career Advisor at Simon Fraser University in Burnaby, BC.

Read David’s blog at SFU Career Services: Dave’s Diary

Follow David on Twitter: @lindenforest