In a bold move to prove that everybody—yes, even the hopelessly broke student—can be their own boss, Memorial University threw a pop-up market yesterday. This wasn’t your average flea market; think less “Grandma’s attic” and more “Oh look, someone turned their kitchen into a potential pop-up restaurant.”
The event, aptly dubbed a side-hustle showcase, included students proudly exhibiting their craft skills, entrepreneurial dreams, and questionable culinary experiments. Apparently, MUN’s Centre for Entrepreneurship had decided to channel their inner Dragon’s Den right on campus, insisting that students could trade “passion projects” for spare change. Think of it as preparing for their inevitable reality TV stardom—with the right amount of irony.
Wandering through the St. John’s Community Market, you’d be hard-pressed not to notice the vibrant chaos that resembled a garage sale on caffeine. There were homemade banana breads competing for attention with hand-knitted unicorn hats, while students haggled over custom-designed ball caps like their futures depended on it. Spoiler alert: they probably do.
Amongst the hustle and bustle, most students extolled the virtues of autonomy that come with their side-gigs, waxing poetic about how sweet it is to sell cookies at 3 AM rather than flipping burgers at the local fast-food joint. “At least I can burn the midnight oil—and cookies—on my own terms,” one student quipped, possibly considering a career in motivational speaking.
Didan Wedderburn (VOCM News)
Didan Wedderburn, the self-proclaimed “side-hustle guru” and event organizer, passionately noted that not every student is cut out for small business ownership. “Entrepreneurship is not just about starting a business; it’s a state of mind,” she mused, clearly unaware that some minds are better left unfettered from the chaos of entrepreneurship.
“Today, we have students displaying profound skill in managing multiple tasks while risk-taking, whether that means staying up late baking cookies or knitting outfits that could double as emergency blankets. The real question, however, is—when will their side-hustles be sending them to the metaphorical moon?” she could’ve said if she had a flair for overstatement.
So, armed with a laptop, a Pinterest account, and the necessary Pinterest-perfect kitchenware, students exhibited their best “hustles” with dreams bigger than their student loans. But hey, with a little creativity and resourcefulness, who knows? Maybe “baking cookies at odd hours” could indeed revolutionize the student finance game—one burnt batch at a time.
