2026 Grad Reflections

My story started by rejecting the idea of going to Grebel all together, because I didn’t understand why it would be better than any of the other campus residences, and since I’m not Mennonite, I didn’t think Grebel was the place for me. But after some persuasion, I took a tour at the March Break Open House. I remember stepping inside and immediately feeling a sense of comfort, hominess, and belonging that I really didn’t expect – a feeling that has only grown over time. I changed my mind pretty quickly and realized Grebel was where I needed to be.  

First year was a whirlwind of excitement, laughter, stress, friendship, music, and even romance. At Grebel there is constant flow of people to talk to, KERP to join, movies to be watch, veebs to be played, and late nights just waiting to happen. But what really made the difference, was the people! I was lucky enough to find a group of friends who became some of the most important people in my life. From then on, Grebel became more than just a residence or place to rest my head at night. It became a home.  

Now it’s finally setting in, that soon all the late nights, toga runs, musicals, performances, snack nights, open doors, shared meals, and banquets will turn into stories and memories to look back on. 

Grebel has really made an impact on me, in ways I didn’t see right away, but am grateful for all the same. When I pack my bags, I know I won’t be ready to go. But the good thing is, leaving Grebel doesn’t mean leaving it behind. I know the memories I’ve made, the experiences I’ve had, and the incredible people who surround me will stick with me. They’ve shaped who I am, and they will continue to make impacts in each chapter, even as this one closes. So, thank you Grebel, for the laughter, the growth, the challenges, and the sense of home I didn’t know I was looking for. 

I came out as transgender when I was 14. I hoped that Grebel would provide a community full of different perspectives and respect for everyone who walked through the doors. While my time at Grebel has included working with Student Services and others to ensure support for queer and trans students, this is also always a work in progress. Grebel has demonstrated a commitment to continue to work towards creating spaces where support and respect are paramount. I hope that living in community at Grebel continues to create learning opportunities for everyone, but I especially hope that trans students at Grebel feel like they are respected, have the support they need, and know that there is a long line of students who came before them who have worked and continue to work for safety for everyone.  

I find myself thinking about three main ideas around community as I get ready to move on from Grebel and the University of Waterloo.  

I hope that the Grebel of the future continues to create intentional communities where we maintain relationships, pay attention to others, and live empathetically in our truths. Building the Grebel of the future starts with our actions today. 

I started university in 2021, during COVID lockdowns—a time that was really isolating and lonely. University was supposed to be full of connections and new experiences, but for many of us, it started behind screens, at a distance from one another. Grebel was actually a last resort housing option for my second year. I had no idea what I was getting myself into. I didn’t know the traditions, I didn’t know the people, and I definitely didn’t know what made this place so special. 

As I reflect on my time here, my heart is filled with warmth. I look back fondly on all the memories rooted in this place, and the relationships I've formed. My experience of Grebel is not unique, and I think that's what makes this place special. Each one of us has gained something valuable. We like to use a certain buzz word to describe this: community, but I think this is reductionist. Grebel is so much more than just community. In a way, I think “community” feels too small a word for what happens here—it doesn’t quite capture the depth of connection, the vulnerability, or the way this place stays with you long after you leave. It’s a collection of simple moments: late-night conversations, shared meals around the table, quiet acts of kindness. Over time, they have become something larger than what words can describe. And ultimately, it’s something we carry forward, shaping how we choose to live authentically in the world long after we’ve left this place behind. 

As the weather continues to tease us with the warmer days to come, I can't help but feel that this moment is like the beginning of spring. It's a season of change, of new life, of stepping into the unknown. 

And with that comes a question I’ve been thinking about a lot recently: how do I want to live in the world? How do I want to show up for those around me? I'm not really sure yet, but if Grebel has been a collection of moments that have shaped us, then maybe this next season is where we begin to live that out. To carry forward the care, the intentionality, and the love we’ve experienced here out into the world around us. 

I’m thankful for the way I grew up, but at the same time I’m very thankful for the way that living at Grebel has pushed me out of my comfort zone. The relationships that I have built here, which cross all sorts of worldview divides, have been instrumental in my own learning about the world around me, and in my ability to understand and respect where someone is coming from when our opinions are totally incongruent. This learning circles back to the environment that Grebel creates, in which the Christian faith underlies the entire culture.  

Having a leadership role in things like Tuesday Night Worship and the Chapel committee has been the greatest privilege of my time at university, so I’m thankful for everyone who attended or helped with those things. I want to encourage you to do something simple, that I should have started doing years before I did: just listen. Don’t be afraid or stubborn when confronted with something you disagree with. Think about how the person you’re talking to is someone who’s very intelligent, who has thought through their opinions, and feels the way they do for a good reason. Maybe you’ll learn something new. Maybe you’ll make a new friend who will provide you with a whole new perspective. Maybe you’ll just walk away feeling more confident in what you already believe.  

Don’t let this opportunity pass you by. There may never be another time in your life when you’re so surrounded by people who are so excited to tell you about Jesus, and why he’s the most important person in their life. From my perspective, it would be tragic to live here and never ask someone who has devoted their whole life to following Jesus why they’ve done that, or what has changed in their life as a result. Please ask. 

Having a space to explicitly ask questions and explore their faith is what allows students here to thrive, creating authentic connections that go far deeper than shared courses and interests.

When I came to Grebel I had just taken a gap year to travel, work, and figure out whatever I could figure out at 18. I was convinced I could fix myself entirely, find myself in my fullest, and go into the world a full-fledged adult man by the end of that year. In this travelling and exploring, I had left the Mennonite/Christian faith though I still had a deep appreciation for spirituality and religion. This led to me exploring Buddhism, reading authors like Eckhart Tolle and Carl Jung, and really questioning the foundation of the religion I was raised in. And that exploration was deeply informed by the fact that I had questions that weren’t getting answered in my own tradition.  

I did get some answers. Though some were alternatives to Christianity, most actually gave me a deeper appreciation for the religion I was raised in. I found new perspectives on how to live and see the world, and how to view religion. These new perspectives, while deepening my appreciation for religion, also distanced myself from it. I felt like I had an “objective stance” and found myself keeping everything at arms length, only taking what I liked and leaving what I didn’t like or what made me uncomfortable, but something about this didn’t seem right for me. If all my exploration had taught me one thing, it was that the uncomfortable is impossible to avoid and must be leaned into to process.  

This was much of who I was pre-Grebel, and who I became coming into my last year. But it’s this last year where I feel most changed. What made the most sense, for me, was to commit to one thing. To take all that I had learned and found, and to bring it into something I can immerse myself in, something that my brain was already wired for. To intentionally close doors, intentionally sacrifice alternate paths, to make an intentional and informed choice about my lifestyle and worldview. Because that is what Christianity has become for me. Not just a religion to “believe in” or words to say, but a way to live and a framework from which to view the world. To make the sacrifices only after knowing and experiencing, even if just a little, what it is I would be sacrificing. And it’s at Grebel in the friends I found, courses I took, and professors I met, that has made me feel welcomed back like the prodigal son in Luke. As changed as I am, and unplanned my path. 

I’m a person with a lot of questions. Growing up, sometimes my questions felt like symptoms or indicators that my faith was hollow, weak, unsteady, failing. Questions were problems to be solved with confident, researched, and well-understood answers.  

One of the first places I routinely experience a different set of attitudes was at Grebel. Grebel has Mennonite roots, which is not the denomination I grew up in, but I always felt welcome. Not just me, but also my thoughts, questions, and any beliefs I towed with me from the Christian Reformed Church. It was easy to have conversations with people of other traditions without arguing, and we often approached our differences with a mindset of sharing and learning. Grebel staff would say “I’m curious what the CRC would say about this” and “Oh, that’s interesting.” I have learned so many things simply by being willing to listen to someone else’s traditions or viewpoints with an open mind and say “huh, that’s actually really interesting!”  

Validating someone’s question and admitting that you don’t have all the answers are immensely more helpful responses than giving a rehearsed answer that lacks empathy and humanity. What would it look like if we responded to questions with wonder? With excitement? With genuine interest and earnestness, because we really care about what we’re talking about? 

You are not alone if you have questions. You are not alone if the weight of your questions feels overwhelming or if the number of unanswered questions feels distressing. You are not alone if you feel neglected, hurt, or angry with God. These are real feelings, and they’re worth feeling. Your questions are real, and they matter to you, so I hope they matter to God. I really hope that he looks on someone with an earnest soul and inquisitive mind and says, yes, this is very good.

My first introduction to Chapel and faith at Grebel came at a time that I was very unmoored, I had just started university, moved away from my family, and moved to Canada. I talked a lot with Jessie in that first year, about faith, the world, and my own personal struggles and she recommended I join Chapel Committee and get involved. It was learning about other faith traditions through Chapel and Chapel Committee planning that helped me realize what was important to me in my own Anglican faith.  

When the genocide in Gaza began, I faced some of the darkest moments in my faith, to see my siblings in Christ turn away or even justify such evil shook me to my core. I realized that I see God as Justice and our role as Christians is to bring this justice into being in the world around us. To see Christians ignore injustice made me question so much. I didn’t question God, rather I questioned if I could (or even wanted to) be a Christian. 

I had gotten connected to Mennonite Central Committee (MCC) while at Grebel and I met Christians who felt the same and did something about it. I went to the Christians for a Free Palestine March in Toronto with some Mennonites from the wider Waterloo community and with MCC. This inspired me to embrace my faith as the root of my activism, a living faith. 

My experiences at Grebel played a role in my decision to be confirmed in the Anglican Church last year. Now I am going to Bethlehem in August to work with the Palestine Institute for Biodiversity and Sustainability through MCC SALT for a year, which is a dream come true.