Orientation: "Just Do It!"

One move and several hundred shamelessly voyeuristic photos later, I am yanked rudely from my slumber by the familiar sound of Bob rummaging through the dumpster outside our bedroom window.  Finding my glasses, I notice he’s wearing two different shoes and recall with a twinge of regret that I gave three pairs away before leaving Alberta and, calculating his feet to be roughly the same size as mine, I now wish I had held onto at least the Adidas runners, and what time is it anyway? 

Seven-fifteen, my phone tells me.  August twenty-second.  VFS Orientation day.

Having stacked everything I need to bring on the dining room table the night before, I stare at the ceiling for five sweet, luxurious minutes before scratching my ass and rolling over to kiss Melissa gently on the cheek.

“You want to come today, hon,” I whisper.  “It’d be great for you to meet everyone.”

“Yeah, I’d really like that.” 

We stop at a grocery store along the way for a pack of gum to ensure good first impressions and to give us something to do while we stand in the inevitable line leading us to the inevitable table where we will process still more paperwork securing my enrolment in the writing program at Vancouver Film School.  I’ve been waiting for this day for six years.  For the moment, I straightjacket my natural impulse to douse the red tape in starter fluid and move slowly through the massive crowd of restless new students like me, shaking warmly the hands of strangers who will soon be colleagues and closer than family.  

Eventually we shuffle into cinema 7 and take our seats near the front.  It takes several minutes to sink in, but I’m finally here, finally standing inside Wonka’s factory and not merely peering jealously in through the gates.  I’m surrounded by students of all ages from seventy-two countries, each having forsaken other pursuits, proximity to family, and some degree of financial security to embark on the riskiest, bravest, most important of adventures: the satisfaction of a lifelong passion, the realization of dream.  As the last of us file in, I grin stupidly and bask in our collective hope and anticipation, knowing I will never experience this particular moment again.

The lights go down and we are treated to a video montage of the school’s recent successes. VFS graduates participated in all 10 of last year’s highest grossing films, as well as top-rated games like God of War, Assassin’s Creed and Red Dead Redemption.  Student works have been featured in up to 200 international festivals annually, garnering nominations or wins that include Leos, Golden Globes, and Oscars.  Graduates have gone on to work for Disney, Weta Digital, and George Lucas’ Industrial Light and Magic, to name a few.  I’d discovered most of these realities in previous presentations, but it was good to hear again.  

Then out walks Stephen Webster, VFS’s marketing director.  He’s from Dublin and somehow this makes the whole presentation cooler and more ingratiating.  He welcomes us by continent and country then gets straight to the point: At VFS, results matter.  Not sales pitches, not ego, not talent alone, but actual results.  End product.  Accomplishment.  Perusing the student handbook, I land on a similar sentiment expressed by founder and president James Griffen:  “The culture of Vancouver Film School is the culture of doing – doing every day, with relevant knowledge, relevant tools and relevant outcome.”  


This is, for me, the final nail in the coffin for those (few) critics who suggest VFS is a kind of puppy mill simply looking for student numbers and dollars.  From my own experience as an educator and college administrator, "graduate factories" simply don't (and can't) talk like this unless they plan on putting their money with their mouths are, and pronto.  In the long term, no school can maintain its credibility or sustain its success unless it produces a notable number of quality graduates who succeed in their chosen industries, and demonstrates a genuine commitment to hold students accountable for their own success while supporting them to that end.  VFS has clearly aimed at and achieved both.  No school can guarantee a specific outcome, and it would be naive to expect this.  What I am super jazzed about at this point is the idea of walking into an environment that will force me to produce, and help me get better and better at what I produce.  Now that's what I'm talking about.         

Next, the school’s student services manager takes the stage and tells us the entire faculty is here to serve and help us.  It’s a promissory note I have faith in, and not blindly.  I’ve simply had too many personal conversations with my academic advisor, admissions people, housing director and department head to believe otherwise.  In every conversation thus far, I've been spoken to like a real person everyone seems sincerely interested in helping.  And I’ve never felt it necessary to be disingenuous or kiss anyone’s butt to get direction or answers.  Clearly, this isn't a favourites game; it’s about how effectively we’ll all be able to build industry relationships, and fundamentally, how good we are at what we do.  Which is, of course, the way school should be.  I need guidance and a relatively level playing field more than I need special favours.  So far, so good.

Other takeaways include help for international and ESL students, a vendor fair (CIBC, Car2Go, medical insurance providers, etc) and most instructively, a review of the school’s six requirements:

• Professionalism (reliability, respect, quality)
• Communication
• Bringing my “full game” (health, focus, energy)
• Commitment to myself
• A sense of humour
• A joy for life

It’s a reminder to me that VFS is as serious about me achieving my goals as I should be.  For the next year, I get to live and breathe film, full-time.  Vancouver Film School’s commitment to me is clear.  The rest is clearly up to me.