Are You Here to Work a Part-Time Job or Build a Career?

Before coming to Canada, I was studying Computer Science and Artificial Intelligence in India. On paper, my path looked technical. But somewhere during my bachelor's, I found myself naturally getting pulled towards design.

I was not formally trained in design at that time. I learned through YouTube, side projects, internships, hackathons, and by simply trying things. I worked at a startup in Ahmedabad that later went to Shark Tank India, and that experience made me believe that maybe design was not just an interest for me. Maybe it was something I wanted to build my career around.

When I started looking for master's programs, I knew one thing clearly: I did not want to do a diploma after my bachelor's. I wanted proper formal education in design. Coming from Vadodara, the common path was to go through consultancies for applications and visas. Most people around me followed that route. I also went to a consultancy, but before that, I had already started doing my own research.

I looked through universities, programs, courses, and anything I could find online. One YouTube video helped me discover a list of Canadian universities and colleges that offered design-related programs. That is how I found the University of Toronto.

UofT immediately felt like a long shot. It was a prestigious university, the program seemed highly competitive, and I did not come from what people would usually call an obvious background. I was from a tier-3 college, I had a few internships and side projects, and my academic profile was not perfect. Even when I went to the consultancy, the first thing I was told was not to apply.

They said UofT was out of my league.

But I still wanted to try.

The application fee was expensive, especially when converted into INR. But I remember thinking: if I do not even apply, I will never know. So I applied anyway.

A few months later, I got accepted.

That moment changed something in me. Not because I suddenly became confident, but because I realized that sometimes other people's idea of your limits is not the final truth. I was not the strongest applicant on paper. I did not come from a famous design school. I did not have a perfect academic record. But I had proof that I was trying: side projects, hackathons, internships, LinkedIn posts, and a lot of self-driven work.

UofT looked at the application holistically, and for the first time, I felt that my non-linear path was not a weakness. It was part of my story.

The consultancy person was surprised. My family was happy. My cousin in Canada was proud. Everyone around me reacted like something big had happened.

For me, it was the first big lesson of this journey: sometimes, audacity gets you into rooms that logic tells you to avoid.

When I came to Toronto in 2024, I stayed at my cousin's place for the first couple of weeks. Everything felt new: the city, the systems, the people, the weather, the university, and even the way people communicated.

I had imagined Canada as a clean new beginning. And in many ways, it was. But very quickly, I also realized that moving countries does not automatically make life simple.

My first semester at UofT was not smooth. My first UX project became more about dealing with conflict, uncertainty, and team dynamics than producing the perfect outcome. It was frustrating, especially because I had come with so much excitement. But looking back, maybe that was also part of the learning. Design is not only about screens, flows, or research methods. It is also about people, alignment, communication, and managing ambiguity when things do not go as planned.

At the same time, there was another reality outside the classroom.

The job market was difficult. I had come to Canada at a time when even part-time jobs were extremely competitive. Everyone was talking about how hard it was to get a co-op, how many students were struggling, and how even basic survival jobs were not easy to find.

I still remember walking into a place with my resume, hoping to get a part-time job. The person took my resume and threw it away in front of me. It was a small moment, but it stayed with me. Not because of that one person, but because it made the situation feel very real.

This was not the polished version of studying abroad that people usually see online.

This was the version where you are trying to study, survive, pay rent, understand a new country, build a career, and still keep believing that you made the right decision.

My first job in Canada was at an Amazon warehouse.

Getting that job was also its own strange system. I learned that Amazon shifts would appear online, and you had to keep refreshing the portal until something opened. There were people using trackers and alerts. I even heard that some people were paying others to help them get warehouse jobs. That was the situation.

I did not know any shortcut. I only knew how to sit with my laptop and keep trying.

So that is what I did.

I refreshed the portal again and again, day and night, until one shift finally appeared. I picked it as fast as I could, filled everything, and got the job.

My first shift was on Diwali.

That detail still feels strange to me. Back home, Diwali meant lights, family, food, and celebration. In Canada, my first Diwali was a night shift at a warehouse.

But I was also proud. It was my first job here. I had figured out one small system. I had found one way to survive.

At that point, I was telling myself that at least something was in my control. I knew how to use a computer. I knew how to search, refresh, apply, and figure things out. It was not glamorous, but it worked.

Still, the bigger goal was always behind my mind.

I had not come to Canada only to work a part-time job.

Around that time, there was a hackathon organized by Sunrise. My friends and I had planned to participate, but because I had started my Amazon warehouse night shift, I told them I might not be able to come.

That is when my friend Asta said something that stayed with me: "Bro, are you here to work a part-time job or build a career?"

It was a simple question, but it hit me hard.

Because she was right.

Of course, I needed the part-time job. I needed money, stability, and survival. But somewhere in that pressure, I had started giving more mental space to surviving than building. That question reminded me why I had come here in the first place.

After that day, I did not stop working. But I stopped letting the warehouse job become the center of my identity. I started taking my design career more seriously. I started thinking more clearly about my portfolio, my co-op search, and the kind of designer I wanted to become.

The warehouse job was important for survival.

But design was the reason I came.

December became the month where I decided to take my career seriously.

While many people in my cohort were travelling during the winter break, I stayed back and worked on my portfolio. I did not know Framer properly at that time, so I learned it while building. I stayed up till 4 a.m. on many nights, trying to make things work, fixing layouts, writing case studies, and learning by doing.

Looking back now, that first portfolio was not perfect. I can see many things I would change today.

But at that time, it was the best thing I could have made.

And that matters.

It represented the version of me who was still learning, still figuring things out, and still choosing to show up. I did not have the cleanest path, the best network, or the strongest confidence. But I had started building something that could speak for me when I was not in the room.

By January, I was ready to apply for summer co-ops.

When co-op applications started opening, I applied wherever I could. The market still felt uncertain, and I knew that nothing was guaranteed.

Then, without any referral, I got an interview from Autodesk.

I still remember how big that felt.

Autodesk was not just another company to me. It felt like the kind of opportunity I had been preparing for, even before I fully knew how to prepare for it. I treated it like the only chance I had.

For the next few days, I prepared seriously. I went to the library, researched the company, studied the product, read interview experiences, made notes, and built a Notion document with everything I needed to know. I wanted to walk into that interview with as much clarity as possible.

There were two rounds: one with the hiring manager and another with a senior director. I gave everything I had.

Then, one Friday evening, I was sitting with friends. We were having pizza. I still remember the moment because it felt so normal until suddenly it was not.

I got an email from the recruiter.

They said there was good news, and that the team was working on approvals to get me an offer.

I was extremely happy. It felt like one of those moments where many small decisions suddenly connect: applying to UofT, coming to Canada, surviving the first semester, working at the warehouse, listening to Asta's question, building my portfolio in December, and preparing deeply for the interview.

None of it was perfectly planned.

But all of it had added up.

When I look back, this story is not just about getting into UofT or getting a co-op at Autodesk.

It is about learning to move forward even when I did not feel fully ready.

A lot of people ignored my messages on LinkedIn. Some people helped me. Some moments made me feel small. Some moments made me feel proud. But through all of it, I kept learning one thing: you do not always need to be the most talented person in the room to move forward.

You need the audacity to try, the discipline to continue, and the humility to keep learning.

I still do not think of myself as someone who had a perfect design journey. I came from computer science. I taught myself design through the internet. I applied to places that felt out of reach. I worked night shifts while trying to build a portfolio. I learned tools only when I needed them. I made mistakes. I doubted myself many times.

But I kept showing up.

And maybe that is the kind of designer I am becoming too.

Someone who does not wait for perfect conditions.

Someone who learns by entering unfamiliar spaces.

Someone who understands that design is not only about creating polished screens, but also about understanding people, systems, constraints, survival, ambition, and the invisible effort behind every decision.

Canada changed my environment, but uncertainty changed my mindset.

It taught me that a career is not built in one big moment. It is built through small moments where you choose to apply anyway, build anyway, prepare anyway, and keep going anyway.

And sometimes, one question is enough to bring you back to why you started: are you here to work a part-time job or build a career?