Connor Parent grew up in Toronto but always knew that, somehow, Halifax was in his future. One book, read in one sitting, introduced him to journalism and that led him to Halifax and King’s Bachelor of Journalism (Hons.) degree.
What drew you to King’s originally?
I started telling friends I wanted to go to university in Halifax in the eighth grade. To this day, I couldn’t pinpoint exactly where that plan came from—it just felt right, even then. Coupled with a distaste for math, researching schools in Halifax eventually led me to King’s.
What program are you graduating from, and what inspired you to pursue that program?
I’ll be graduating with a Bachelor of Journalism (Honours) degree. I spent my childhood reading novels in the backseat of a minivan while my younger sisters played together in the front row, but it wasn’t until my dad handed me a copy of Jon Krakauer’s Into the Wild that the power of writing became clear. After reading it in one sitting, I was changed. If it weren’t for Krakauer, studying journalism never would have crossed my mind.
Was there a course, professor, reading requirement or experience that has had a lasting impact on you?
In the first semester of my third year, I took Opinion Writing with David Swick. There, it felt like the rules of journalistic writing were dissolved—or at least not treated as dogma. I started seeing journalism and my own education differently. I developed a need to write with grace and elegance, passion and intent (or attempt to do so). Over the following year and a half, David’s guidance through my honours project and the Online Features workshop only multiplied this desire. I blame him for all the late nights obsessing over a handful of syllables.
What’s your top study tip?
As long as the work gets done, how it gets done is inconsequential. I prefer working in absolute silence and having no movement within my periphery, but there’s more than one way to cook an egg.
What’s your favourite spot on campus?
The bench outside Cochran Bay. As a serially early person, it welcomes me like an old friend any time there’s need to wait. That bench has seen torn pages and tears, reflection and recesses, coffees and conversations as classmates walk by. On a warm April day, it lives up to its design as a muster point.
What’s one thing from your time at King’s that you’re especially proud of?
It’s a fairly mundane and common experience, but I look back on my first meal in Prince Hall with satisfaction. I asked a group of people sitting at a table if I could join them, completely unaware of the fact they were likely as nervous as I. I remember the moment of silence before they said yes—which is far longer in memory than it was in reality. I never became good friends with them, but that moment felt like the first big drop on a roller coaster, a necessary discomfort before you really start enjoying the ride.
Thinking back to who you were when you received your acceptance letter, what would you tell him?
That going to King’s was a great call, and Grade 8 Connor is far wiser than he was given credit for. Also, maybe most importantly, nobody else knows what they’re doing either.
As Encaenia approaches, do you have any insights you’d like to share for incoming students?
I think two of the biggest things I’d like to impress on anyone (my younger sister Hannah included) entering university are: it may take time—in my case three years—to find what you enjoy doing academically, and hard work is rewarding. It wasn’t until this year I began writing longform, narrative-driven journalism. It wasn’t until this year that I would have gone to a professor’s office on short notice at 7 p.m. just to craft an email. These realizations have given me more confidence and satisfaction than any other.
Where do you hope your degree takes you next?
I have no idea, and I’d have it no other way. How can you embrace mystery if there is none? I know I love writing. I know I love connecting with people. I know wherever I may end up, I’ll apply myself fully and completely. Wherever the road takes me, I’m sure I’ll be alright.
