June 10, 2026
74-year-old anthropology undergrad overcomes adversity and tragedy to earn her degree
As University of Ģý anthropology undergrads lined up at the Jack Simpson Gymnasium to collect their diplomas on June 8, Joyce Arnold, 74, walked across the stage to a huge ovation, including the stamping of feet from the audience.
The fact that she walked was ovation worthy in itself. In fact, she had planned to cross the stage in a wheelchair. She had both knees replaced a few years back, and her rheumatoid arthritis remains an ever-present adversary, limiting how long she can stand.
But perhaps it’s not all that surprising that she walked after all. Her road to graduation, 51 years after first enrolling at UĢý in 1975, hasn’t been an easy one. But there was no stopping her.
As her name was called, Arnold felt a sense of pure elation. “I’m excited, and so happy to have accomplished this,” she says. “It’s something I’ve wanted for so long.”
Her degree wasn’t the only honour Arnold received. After the convocation ceremony, she also accepted a Resilient Scholar Award, courtesy of her anthropology professors. “This is in recognition of Joyce’s extraordinary perseverance, intellectual curiosity and commitment to learning in the face of profound personal and physical challenges,” says , PhD, head of the . “Her graduation is a remarkable achievement and an inspiration to both faculty and students within our department.”
As she considers her long journey, the lifetime it took to achieve her dream and earn a university degree, Arnold admits: “It feels unreal.”
Life gets in the way
When she first enrolled at UĢý, at the age of 24, she began taking night classes in general studies as she was unsure of her academic focus. It was difficult to manage classes as she had a full-time job at ATB Financial, where she remained until her retirement in 2000, but Arnold was motivated by a genuine thirst for learning.
Joyce Arnold, 74, walked across the stage during the Faculty of Arts afternoon Spring Convocation Ceremony for the University of Ģý on June 8, 2026.
Colleen De Neve
Eventually though, as the saying goes, life got in the way. Marriage, two kids and a career necessitated the end of her university life. That is, until she returned as a 65 year-old in 2016, taking part-time classes. Her children had grown and her husband was supportive, says Arnold, and she felt a calling to finish what she started so long ago.
She was in for a shock. Modern academia was a vastly different world from the one she experienced in the mid-1970s. Advancements in technology posed a huge, intimidating hurdle.
“I really struggled with technology, and I let it be known,” Arnold says. “I had never done a PowerPoint presentation in my life, and I tried to figure it out online, but the instructions wouldn’t work. I learned as much as I could, but I had to say: ‘I’m sorry, I need assistance.’
“There was a handful of students who befriended me in class and stopped to help me, and I really appreciate them.”
Inspired by anthropology courses she had taken, Arnold enrolled in the Department of Anthropology and Archaeology in 2018. She was not in for a smooth ride.
Overcoming grief
In 2020, the COVID-19 pandemic reared its head and classes moved online as the population became homebound. That posed a challenge for someone who struggled with technology. Arnold got the assistance she needed from her son, an established IT professional. That is, until his unexpected death in 2021 at the age of 39.
Arnold was overcome by grief. At the same time, she was recovering from surgery, having had both knees replaced, and she was having a negative reaction to a drug that had been prescribed to treat her rheumatoid arthritis.
“The drug made me feel quite ill and left me unable to concentrate, all while I was grieving,” she says. “I just couldn’t cope and I ended up withdrawing from my courses.”
Never stop learning
No matter how many times circumstances took her out, Arnold always returned to her studies, eventually. Even now that she’s earned her degree, she has no intention of stopping. Her passion for learning remains, with anthropology fostering a particular interest in genetics, so classes will continue.
“One of the things that has impressed our department is that Joyce was never simply pursuing a credential,” says Wilson. “She was deeply, intellectually engaged with questions about human evolution, genetics, adaptation, and what it means to be human.”
Arnold also hopes to put her degree to use and she’s exploring volunteer opportunities in research labs and hospitals. “I want to do something that’s related to my studies that will help others, but still enhance my learning,” she says. “I guess you could say learning is my passion.”
Besides elation, there was another set of emotions as Arnold prepared to cross the convocation stage. She felt the warmth of her son’s love, bittersweet because he couldn’t be there in person to congratulate her, hug her, tell her he was proud.
“He promised he’d be here, no matter what,” says Arnold. “I know in spirit he was here with me.”
Over the phone, she says she’s crying as she speaks of her oldest child; one would never know because her voice remains steady: “Challenges like this make you stronger in the end. I know it’s made me stronger.”