People who know me know I have a terrible memory. Ask me what I had for lunch yesterday, and I’d probably stare into space for five minutes until a random photo on my phone finally gives me a clue. But if there's one upside to having a bad memory, it's that the truly meaningful moments tend to stick.
When I think of RMIT, I think of an old, wise friend – someone who has cared for me and witnessed my growth for more than 15 years.
The first time I met RMIT, I was 18. Young, wide-eyed, and freshly enrolled in the Professional Communication program because I liked telling stories and meeting people. I threw myself into everything - spending nearly every day on campus, running from meetings to projects with other Profcommers from morning until late.
"The first time I met RMIT, I was 18."
I survived on Global Canteen's legendary bột chiên (yes, it really was on the menu 15 years ago), cheese crackers from the Building 8 convenience store and endless cups of Lygon's Coffee.
Academically, RMIT let us go wild with any ideas we could come up with. I got an HD for proposing an anonymous online bragging wall with the one and only Lê Thanh Phương. For our final project at university, we hosted not one, but two mini farmers’ markets on campus. It was chaos. It was fun. It was us.
"Academically, RMIT let us go wild with any ideas we could come up with."
Then graduation came. I thought my journey with RMIT was over.
But, you guessed it, we still have 'duyên nợ' (fate) you know. At 23, two RMIT friends and I returned to RMIT, this time as collaborators. We were tasked with telling RMIT stories on social media platforms the way only fellow RMITers could.
It turned out to be way more than just a content job. We've met student entrepreneurs juggling full-time studies while building their own start-ups, a lecturer on a mission to visit 100 countries before turning 40 (he'd made it to 60-something last I heard - I wonder if he's made it yet?), and students who just decided it was a perfect day to roam around campus with a guitar and sing their hearts out. What I've learnt from the people at RMIT is this simple fact: there are no limits to what you can do - only to what you can imagine.
Thu's first Graduation ceremony at RMIT Vietnam, in her 22.
At 32, I returned to RMIT for the third time - this time to test my own limits with a second degree in psychology and a new, slightly daunting, unwritten path ahead.
Unlike the first time, I didn't join clubs or run events. I showed up for class instead. One of the first lessons our lecturers gave us was to overcome our own self-fulfilling prophecies. In other words, instead of living by a rigid personal rulebook of who you are and what you can or can't do, try turning the page and writing a new set of hypotheses - or 'what-ifs' - to explore and learn from.
Since then, I've learnt that I am not 'bad at statistics', 'not made for academic writing' or 'just work best on my own'. I've learnt that extroverts and introverts can complement each other beautifully if we create space for one another and let the connection grow naturally (just put a communication student in a psychology class and you’ll see what I mean lol). I've also learnt that by simply asking 'what if', I've opened the door to possibilities far beyond what I once believed I could achieve.
I've also been lucky to be part of a warm, supportive program where we learn not just how to become responsible mental health professionals, but also how to care for ourselves, for each other, and for our wider community.
"I've also been lucky to be part of a warm, supportive program - Bachelor of Psychology."
The recent Psychovation contest and Psychology Day, where psychology lecturers, staff, and students worked together on new ideas to promote community mental health, were perfect examples of that spirit in action.
As I prepare for my second graduation next year, I just want to say thank you - to every lecturer, student, and staff member who has made RMIT such a meaningful part of my life.
And above all, thank you, RMIT, for being my teacher, friend, enabler, and constant supporter. Thank you for helping me write a one-of-a-kind, joy-filled, never-quite-finished story - one that I know will keep unfolding for years to come.
