Love, Stefan

Dear Studio, 

I’m working now. Got a job at a fintech, doing some writing if you’d believe. 

But enough about me. Just got a few things I wanted to let you know. 

It took me a few years of study before I finally wound up on your doorstep in 2019, eager to help out with UniCrew before inevitably and eagerly getting involved in Silverline. Coming to the end of a Commerce degree, I could feel myself drifting into the monotony of going to class, then going home, then going to class, then going home. 

You changed that. 

You were practical. Why wait until after Uni to put your study into practice? Why feel cynical about assignments, when there’s the chance to challenge the struggle of communicating poor mental health? Why think about ‘brandspheres’ and target audiences in the abstract, when you could be actively working toward building an image of volunteering that resonates with a first year or a fifth year, a Castle St or St Marg’s resident alike? 

You were a refuge. When there was an hour or two spare between classes, rather than heading forlornly toward the dreary isles of the library, there was the warm embrace of the Studio. Sitting in pride of place in the middle of campus, decked out as an extension of Sze-En’s own welcoming arms, you didn’t shy away from the social aspect of social impact. There was always a yarn to be had, an idea to float–from such spitballing came ‘It’s Not Awkward Bro’, all as a result of popping in with no plan, but then certainly leaving with one. 

You were a community. As I say, social impact inherently requires social connections–and you made the best of them. I was, am, and will continue to be in awe of the people that walked through your doors. Not your they-volunteer-so-of-course-they’re-gonna-be-nice types, your genuinely-good-humans types. People that inspired, but spoke on your level. People that seemed flawless, but spoke openly and honestly about their own struggles. People that would plant trees out at wetlands early on a wintery Sunday morning, even if they were a little dusty from the night before. 

You were personal. Do you look good on a CV? Shit yes. I’d be lying if I said no. What part of ‘assisted with the planning and execution of Silverline Festival 2019, a two-day event with multiple speakers & workshops aimed at challenging the struggle of mental health’ doesn’t scream ‘professionally equipped’?

But it wasn’t about that. That one small entry–‘Social Impact Lead/Team Member (2019)’–might speak to my communication, collaboration, and coordination skills to a prospective employer, but to me it’s not about that. Captured in that 12-month window is the personal growth of looking beyond myself and seeing the needs of the community. The crystallisation of not wanting to do just old anything after Uni, but important work that serves a purpose. The affirmations and affection received from so many within the Studio community, that gave me the confidence that I’d actually be able to achieve those ambitions. 

That I, and others, would indeed take our place in the word–for lack of a better phrase.  

At times, University felt like an optical illusion that I couldn’t quite make out. Why did I sign up for this? What’s it all for? Is it a backwards facing rabbit, or a forwards looking duck? But you, the Studio, made everything click into place, and oh so crystal clear. 

Stefan

Otago Unicrew