Ava’s world

As I stand out on the balcony of a 40th-floor corner apartment in the heart of my city, I am dumbstruck by the dazzling view of the highrises around me, the CN Tower its gleaming centrepiece. My stomach is full of laughter from the night behind me, and I am seeped in an optimism I rarely taste. 

That’s the Ava effect. 

It’s November reading week of my second undergrad year, that time of the journey when I’m thinking about going on exchange. I’ve been lucky enough to travel with my parents over the years, but the farthest I’ve been on a plane by myself was to Florida to visit my grandmother’s snowbird trailer park. Going abroad to study and live all on my own? That’s a whole other level of adventure. 

My job at a sleepover camp in Ontario for the past three summers is the closest I’ve come to living independently. This special place is where I met the subject of this week’s column. Ava is an optimist like no other. She is fearless, kind, a friend to all, incredibly emotionally intelligent and oh yeah… studying chemical engineering at the University of Toronto. You could say she’s got a lot going for her. This past summer we worked on the same team, each running different areas of programming at our camp, and would often spend our free time floating around in the lake together, discussing existential ideas and using each other as soundboards for future plans. I remember one conversation like it was yesterday. We were debating the age-old problem facing young students considering career paths — money or happiness. Like me, Ava is wholly unsure of where she will end up career-wise, but certain of one thing. As long as she ends up on a beach somewhere with enough money to eat healthily and take care of her body, with people she loves to share life with, she’ll be more than satisfied. 

Ava has lived a fascinating life. During the pandemic, her family moved to the Cayman Islands. At first, she found this transition hard as a young teenager from a small city in Canada, but from our chats, I got the sense that this move profoundly impacted Ava’s outlook on life. Anyone who knows her would say that she exudes positivity, and from talking to her, I know that she attributes a lot of her optimistic nature to Cayman’s culture. She introduced our camp to SOCA music, a rhythmic upbeat dance genre highly popular in the Caribbean. I can say from experience that it is impossible to feel sad when listening to the groovy beats of Machel Montano or Kerwin Du Bois. 

When I was back in Toronto for Thanksgiving, I had Ava over for breakfast one morning. One thing led to another, and what started as a basic life update over French toast led to a pivotal meditation for me on my doubts about exchange. This spring, Ava will lead camping trips similar to the overnight canoe trips we’ve led for years at our camp, but in Africa and South America. When she first told me this news, my jaw was visibly on the floor, and her excitement was palpable. I sat at my kitchen table in awe for many minutes listening to her animated explanation of how she came across this company and how this position will lead to further opportunities for her in geoengineering. I remember thinking, “I’ve been sitting here worrying about making friends on exchange in Europe, while Ava is planning to fearlessly venture into the jungle.” But that’s where I was wrong. Of course, Ava has fear! We’ve talked about it. Doing new things is scary, putting yourself out there is scary. It’s her glass-half-full mentality that gives Ava the courage to act on her dreams, and that is something I deeply admire about her. 

When you’re thinking about exchange or any big life experience, it’s certainly smart to do your due diligence and have a good understanding of the risks involved. Every exchange student YouTube vlog I’ve watched has warned me about culture shock, homesickness and feelings of regret that naturally accompany any study abroad journey. But if you ever feel like you are hindered from making that leap for some reason you can’t quite identify, go talk to the Ava in your life. That person who sees the world as full of opportunity, not just of danger.