As a young person with little experience in the world, I am quite familiar with feeling unqualified. Far too often, I find myself given opportunities for which I have absolutely no preparation. It’s easier to recognize you’re unqualified for something when you meet the people who are qualified for the opportunity. I learned this a few years ago when I volunteered at an astronomy night for Cub Scouts.

The event was run by the director of an institute doing cosmic microwave background experiments. Alongside the director, there were two student volunteers: myself and the president of the Ryerson Astronomical Society. Keep in mind, I knew next to nothing about astronomy at this point. I had seen some of Jupiter’s moons through a telescope, but that was about it. Naturally, whenever one of the scouts asked us a question about space, I would just defer to the president. Thankfully, the president was able to answer any questions the scouts had, and I ended up learning quite a bit through the answers.

After a while, the scouts started working on an activity that didn’t require us to do much, so the president and I chatted for a bit. I had no reason to pretend like I knew anything about space, so I let myself ask very stupid questions. I probably could’ve googled how many constellations there were, but it ended up being a good way to start the conversation. As a bonus, I still remember there are 88 constellations, and I still remember a little about how the brightest stars in each constellation are named. The president also cracked a few jokes about Orion’s Sword which I thought were hilarious. If the old president ever sees this, thanks for being awesome.

A few years later, I was in the middle of nowhere with my telescope, when I remembered those jokes about Orion’s Sword. Given the clear conditions, I decided to observe the three stars that make up the sword. Throughout the night, I watched as the sword moved across the sky when I noticed something strange. At its zenith, the sword appeared to be pointing straight down. By this point, I had already made my revelations about the north star, so I quickly realized the sword was pointing south. When I pulled out my compass, the sword was a little off, but not by much, less than a degree. Living in the northern hemisphere, I wasn’t sure how this would hold for the rest of the night, so I waited a bit to observe it again. I followed the direction of the sword until I hit the horizon, and I checked the direction. This time, it was off by even more. As I expected, the Earth was getting in the way of being able to use Orion’s Sword to find south, but it still worked pretty well. With a bit of latitude correction, finding south using Orion’s Sword seemed absolutely possible, it would just require a bit of math. A project for another night, perhaps.

It’s hard to believe that because of a joke I heard a few years ago, I learned about celestial navigation, but I suppose that’s what the student of life is about. A few years ago, I volunteered at an event for which I was extremely unqualified. I don’t quite know why I was given the opportunity, but I am extremely grateful. That opportunity, like so many others, has given me more than I could ever give. Even today, I’m still learning and growing from everything I have been given. Eventually, the day will come when I can offer more than I receive, but even then, I will still keep learning. I will still be a student of life.