The first non-fiction book I ever read was Disney CEO Bob Iger’s memoir The Ride of a Lifetime. 10-year-old, lemonade-stand-entrepreneur me was likely still thinking profit meant “don’t drink from your own cups.” I barely understood anything Mr. Iger was talking about. Leadership? Vision? Values? My vision was that a 200-page read was way too long. However, even if I didn’t understand it then, good stories have twists, surprises, and characters who grow along the way. That’s Disney.
Walt Disney didn’t design the park as a straight path. He built it to hold millions of possibilities at once. “The happiest place on earth,” filled with imagination. And strangely enough, that’s how it felt stepping into Western, with the prospect of Ivey ahead. As Mr. Iger noted, “curiosity is the path to discovery.” Slowly, I began to understand what he meant: the true “ride of a lifetime” comes from the questions, curiosity, and experiences waiting for you on the track.
Every Disneyland journey starts on Main Street, USA. My “Main Street” magically appeared in my first job. Quite bored in the summer of grade 9, and with a push from my dad, I was fortunate to receive an opportunity to work as a cashier at Pro Hockey Life. It felt like winning the lottery; I grew up playing hockey and was probably more excited (at first) about the Pittsburgh Penguins merch than serving customers at checkout. But that job taught me margins, inventory flow, loss leaders, merchandising...without me realizing I was learning business fundamentals! Every night after the store closed, it was just me and my store manager in a tiny closet office. We’d crack open the till, count the cash, and analyze the sales report. Did we hit the target today? Our UPT (how many units per transaction)? What is our Triangle Rewards card scan rate? I realized I loved it. Behind the numbers were stories—of our team, our customers, and perhaps even the economy.
When I switched to Whole Foods, I stepped into a brand with hundreds of stores across the world. I saw how shelf placement affects choice, how suppliers negotiate, how culture shapes a team, and how much psychology goes into a simple grocery aisle. I eventually became a Culture Champion, helping train new team members. That’s when I realized a love for leadership – there’s nothing quite like the feeling of seeing others succeed. Working part-time taught me things no class ever could: how to navigate workplace politics, manage emergencies, talk to people who disagree with you, and build genuine, long-term relationships.
Then comes Fantasyland, the place where imagination comes alive. For me, that was Western Ivey. Eventually, you must figure out what you value most in post-secondary. For me, it was simple: I valued my career. Thus, I wanted to be in a place where I could actually engage with the best and brightest, instead of sitting quietly in a 500-person lecture hall. Many schools promise that; Ivey truly lives it. “Surround yourself with people who are good,” said Mr. Iger, “in addition to being good at what they do.”
And then we shift into Frontierland, the land of courage and growth. I immediately found it at Western. Through the Pre-Business Students’ Network (PBSN), Ivey Business Review, courses like Ivey Foundations’ Business 1220, and of course, the incredible team on the AEO Onward Blog, I learned more about different career industries in one semester than I expected to learn in a year. The case-based approach in Business 1220 made me speak up, defend ideas, question assumptions, and listen to others. And somewhere in the middle of all the classes, club meetings, late-night assignments, and swimming 3–4 times a week, I realized something important: the best thing you can do in your first year is explore. Try everything. Talk to everyone. And take care of your health, because even the happiest place on earth isn’t fun when you burn out.
That brings me, finally, to Tomorrowland, a place of possibility. I don’t know exactly what I want to do yet (and honestly, neither do most people, though some may act like it). I’ve learned that university, Ivey or otherwise, will give you curiosity and confidence to keep asking good questions. Like the Zootopia expansion at Disneyland Shanghai or the futuristic spires rising at Disneyland Abu Dhabi, my future feels like a park still under construction: new rides, new “tomorrows.”
Let's end this ride of a lifetime with gratitude – for family, friends, mentors, and the opportunities that I’ve been fortunate to be on the receiving end of, and one day hope to give back.
And one day, whether it’s graduation, that first step in my career, or starting a family, I hope I get to look back and say exactly what kid-me never understood when he read Bob Iger for the first time:
Wow. What a ride of a lifetime.
To the risks, rewards, and laughs we will share—thank you.