The Year After High School
Stardate: June 4, 1994 — My High School Graduation.
Graduation day had finally arrived. Although I still had a few final exams to write, the ceremony marked the beginning of the end of my high school years.
And I couldn’t wait to leave.
I’d never really felt welcome in Strathmore’s schools or community after moving there when I was nine. I failed Grade 4, which gave some of my classmates another reason to pick on me. Mostly, though, they seemed to find it hilarious to call a little girl “ugly.”
The bullying was relentless. It worsened in junior high, and by high school, I’d largely given up trying to find somewhere I belonged. My days became an exercise in navigating the hallways, enduring the insults, and making it home to the safety of my room.
Fortunately, I had two ways to escape. One was through the pages of DC Comics. The other would eventually take me aboard a starship.
School had also been challenging because of what I now understand was undiagnosed ADHD. But while I was relieved to leave the academic struggles behind, what excited me most was the possibility of finally escaping the bullying.
I didn’t know what I wanted to do with my life or where I was headed. At least I could put those school years behind me.
Or so I thought…
A Starship Appears on the Horizon
Wil Wheaton Brought Me Aboard
I started watching Star Trek: The Next Generation near the end of its second season.
Before that, I thought Star Trek was lame. It was for nerds. Definitely not my cup of tea.
Then I learned Wil Wheaton was in the show.
As a huge fan of Stand By Me, I figured I’d give it a chance.
Eventually, The Next Generation became part of my after-school routine. Two back-to-back episodes aired in the late afternoon, giving me a couple of hours to spend aboard the Enterprise.
And what a remarkable place it turned out to be.
A Crew That Felt Like Family
The crew felt like a family. They respected one another, worked through disagreements, and genuinely wanted to better themselves. Their adventures weren’t driven by greed or the pursuit of wealth. They were about discovery, understanding, and learning what it meant to be human.
At a time when I was struggling to find hope in my own life, that vision of humanity was reassuring. Much like I explored in The Long Way Back to Dolly, the people and stories we connect with when we’re young can leave an impression that lasts a lifetime.
There wasn’t one particular episode that made me feel this way. It was the entire ensemble.
Everyone aboard the Enterprise had something meaningful to contribute. Characters who might have remained in the background on another show were given opportunities to grow and tell their own stories.
That’s one reason I connected more strongly with The Next Generation than the original series. I enjoyed seeing the spotlight move beyond the central characters.
Wil Wheaton may have brought me to the show, but the whole crew made me stay.
Finding Myself in the Crew
Wesley Crusher was close to my age, so I naturally identified with him. He was a young person trying to find his place among adults, eager to contribute and sometimes unsure of himself.
Over time, I grew attached to everyone. The characters—and the actors who brought them to life—gave the series an extraordinary amount of heart.
But one character stood out to me for a particularly personal reason.
Lieutenant Reginald Barclay.
Barclay struggled with confidence and social anxiety. Other crew members made fun of him, and he often seemed painfully uncomfortable around people.
I understood that feeling all too well.
And honestly, given how people treated him, who could blame the guy for wanting to disappear into the holodeck?
What stayed with me, though, was that someone aboard the Enterprise recognized Barclay needed guidance rather than another rejection.
That person was Captain Jean-Luc Picard.
The Captain Who Made Me Believe
A Different Kind of Captain
Captain Picard was very different from Captain Kirk.
Where Kirk often seemed ready to leap into action, Picard preferred to consider a situation carefully. His leadership was guided by compassion, thoughtfulness, and a deep belief in Starfleet’s principles.
He wasn’t perfect, but he took his responsibilities seriously.
A Place for Everyone
When Picard learned that Barclay was struggling to fit in with the crew, he didn’t simply decide the man was somebody else’s problem. Instead, he encouraged Geordi La Forge to work with Barclay and help him become a contributing member of the team.
Granted, Picard had his own unfortunate slip with the “Broccoli” nickname.
Even the captain could make mistakes.
But the important thing was that he saw someone worth helping.
After years of being treated like the ugly duckling, watching a person in authority choose patience over dismissal meant a great deal to me.
Barclay wasn’t the most confident officer aboard the Enterprise. He wasn’t the most socially skilled, either. Yet Picard believed he deserved an opportunity to find his place.
In the future I was watching, even someone like me could belong.
I’ve spent a lot of my life learning that my worth isn’t determined by how other people see me. It’s something I explored again years later in The Secret Identity Matters Too. Picard’s treatment of Barclay was one of my earliest reminders that everyone deserves to be treated with dignity, regardless of how confident or capable they appear.
That was a powerful message for a young woman who had spent so much of her childhood feeling unwanted.
Picard also became something of a father figure aboard the Enterprise. He maintained a certain distance from his crew, understanding that leadership required fairness. Yet beneath that reserved exterior was someone who cared deeply about the people serving under him.
I admired that balance.
Personally, I also loved imagining a future where humanity had moved beyond so much of the greed and inequality that shaped the world around me.
Picard’s compassion, integrity, and dedication to exploring humanity gave me hope when I had very little of my own.
Even Captains Can Lose Their Way
My appreciation for him only deepened over the years.
One of my favourite Picard moments came later, in the 1996 film Star Trek: First Contact.
Consumed by his desire for revenge against the Borg, Picard reaches a breaking point. He refuses to retreat and furiously declares that the line must be drawn.
Then Lily challenges him, comparing his obsession to Captain Ahab’s pursuit of the white whale.
And Picard recognizes the truth in what she’s saying.
That moment has always stayed with me.
Here was a man I’d admired for his wisdom and composure, completely overwhelmed by anger and pain. Yet when confronted with what he’d become, he found the courage to reconsider his actions.
He wasn’t beyond making mistakes. He wasn’t immune to darkness.
But he could recognize when he’d lost his way.
It showed me that even when things get dark, you can find your humanity and a way out of it.
The Future Wasn’t Something to Fear
The Year of Hell™
The year after high school was one of the most difficult periods of my life.
Depression had sunk its claws into me, although I didn’t understand what I was experiencing at the time.
I felt trapped.
Strathmore was a small town with limited employment opportunities. Worse, many of the businesses had employees who knew me from school.
On more than one occasion, after dropping off a résumé, I’d hear someone say, “Don’t hire her!”
Apparently, leaving school didn’t mean leaving the bullying behind.
Without a driver’s licence or a way to commute to Calgary, my options felt painfully limited.
I’d try to motivate myself to look for work, only to become discouraged again. Every rejection reinforced the feeling that I wasn’t going anywhere.
I couldn’t see a future on the horizon.
I’ve affectionately named that period The Year of Hell™.
Because it was.
I desperately wanted to escape what I considered a shithole town and become somebody. Instead, I felt as though I was still stuck in the same place, surrounded by the same attitudes that had made school miserable.
The world beyond Strathmore seemed impossibly far away.
An Entire Universe Beyond Strathmore
And yet, every afternoon, I could visit the Enterprise.
While I couldn’t figure out how to leave one small Alberta town, Captain Picard and his crew were travelling across the galaxy.
They explored unfamiliar worlds, encountered extraordinary civilizations, and faced challenges that required courage, compassion, and cooperation.
Their adventures reminded me that there was an entire universe beyond the place where I felt trapped.
For a couple of hours, I could imagine a future that wasn’t defined by the people who had bullied me.
Star Trek didn’t solve my problems. I still had to wake up the next morning and face the same uncertainty.
But it made those days more bearable.
It gave me something to look forward to—and something worth imagining.
I honestly don’t know whether I would have survived that year without Star Trek and the hope it gave me.
Eventually, things began to change. I completed Social Studies 30 through correspondence, applied to college, and was accepted into Medicine Hat College in 1995.
My future hadn’t disappeared after all.
It had simply taken longer to come into view.
Looking back, it’s interesting how often I’ve had to remind myself of that lesson. As I wrote in The Map Was Wrong, sometimes the future we imagine disappears, and we’re left trying to figure out where to go next. But losing sight of the destination doesn’t necessarily mean the journey is over.
A Future Worth Believing In
One of the most remarkable things about The Next Generation is its belief that humanity can improve.
The future it portrays isn’t perfect. People still experience conflict, loss, injustice, and uncertainty. But they also learn, grow, cooperate, and strive to become better.
For someone struggling with depression, that vision can be incredibly powerful.
The future wasn’t necessarily something to fear.
Perhaps it was something to hope for.
More Than a Television Character
The Man Behind the Captain
Of course, Captain Jean-Luc Picard wouldn’t have been the same without Patrick Stewart.
What an extraordinary actor. Rest in peace, mon capitaine!
I remember watching him portray Claudius in Hamlet during high school. Picard and Claudius were vastly different characters, but Stewart brought a commanding presence to both.
He had a remarkable ability to communicate authority without relying on volume or intimidation.
And then there was Professor Charles Xavier.
When Stewart was cast in the X-Men films, he gave this devoted DC Comics fan a reason to venture into Marvel territory.
At the time, I wasn’t particularly interested in Marvel. Some of the rivalry between comic-book fans had put me off, and I’d allowed that to influence my opinions.
Thankfully, I’ve since learned not to let other fans decide what I’m allowed to enjoy.
Besides, I did have a soft spot for Spider-Man.
Especially Tobey Maguire. 😍
Still, Patrick Stewart was the main reason I wanted to watch X-Men. Without him, I might not have discovered how much I could enjoy those stories, too.
These past few days have been difficult as I’ve tried to process the news of Patrick Stewart’s passing. 💔
One Unforgettable Weekend in Calgary
I was fortunate enough to see him in person during one remarkable weekend when the Next Generation cast appeared at Calgary’s Fan Expo.
I forked out the big bucks for a photograph with the whole cast.
Worth it.
I also attended the group panel, Stewart’s solo panel, and several other appearances. Being in the same room as the people who had brought me so much comfort during a difficult chapter of my life was an experience I’ll never forget.
My one lingering disappointment was missing Wil Wheaton’s solo panel because it had been scheduled in a room that couldn’t accommodate everyone who wanted to attend.
That was the panel where he delivered his powerful message about being proud of being a nerd.
I’m grateful the video exists, because otherwise I might never have experienced that moment.
The Lessons That Stayed With Me
But coming back to Picard, I genuinely don’t believe The Next Generation would have affected me in quite the same way without him in the captain’s chair.
Every member of the ensemble contributed something special. Together, they brought to life a future inspired by Star Trek’s philosophy of infinite diversity in infinite combinations.
Picard helped give that philosophy a voice.
Through him, I learned something about leadership, compassion, integrity, and the importance of continuing to explore the unknown.
Those lessons stayed with me long after the credits rolled.
Even today, I sometimes struggle to find hope. There are moments when the world seems consumed by greed, division, and a willingness to treat other people as disposable.
When those feelings become overwhelming, I still turn to Star Trek.
Sometimes I ask myself, “What would Picard say about this?”
Other times, I’ll watch an episode or movie and find myself smiling at a familiar scene.
The Enterprise remains a reminder that humanity is capable of imagining—and working toward—something better.
And that matters to me.
Especially now, as I navigate another difficult period of depression and uncertainty. In Somewhere Between Darkness and Daylight, I wrote about how difficult the past few weeks have been—and how the smallest signs of hope have begun finding their way back into my life.
Perhaps it’s time for another Next Generation binge session.
I suspect there’s still plenty of hope waiting for me aboard that ship.
Final Thought: To Boldly Hope
Star Trek gave me the courage to boldly hope for a future worth fighting for—not only for humanity, but for myself.
When I look back at that year after high school, I remember a young woman who couldn’t imagine how her life would unfold.
She didn’t know how many difficult chapters were ahead of her.
She didn’t know how many wonderful ones were waiting, either.
But somewhere along the way, a fictional starship and its captain gave her a reason to believe that things might get better.
Today, I understand that hope isn’t blind optimism. It isn’t a promise that everything will work out exactly as planned.
Sometimes, hope is simply the willingness to believe that tomorrow might hold something worth discovering.
And perhaps that’s what it means to boldly hope.
What has Captain Picard meant to you? Do you have a favourite Picard moment? Share it in the comments.
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