I’m always baffled by the inevitable scene in teen movies/shows when the young protagonist sits down with a parent/teacher/plucky stripper mentor (Can’t Hardly Wait. Best. Movie. Ever.), and asks if that person would ever go back and “do it all over again” to avoid those mistakes they made during their formative high school years. The wise, weary adult takes a long sip of coffee and – their voice dripping with profundity – assures the teen that no, those mistakes helped shape them as a person and life is not about the mistakes, but rather learning from them.

So, yeah, I say that’s bullshit. While I don’t doubt such sage advice helped Dawson make it out of the creek with a new lease on life, I, for one, would go back and do high school again in a second, life lessons be damned.

Granted, I want to take with me everything I’ve learned since graduating. With the knowledge I’ve gained these last few years, redoing high school would be a glorious experience. I’d skip class more, worry less about what people thought and forego shopping at Abercrombie altogether ($70 for a shirt that will fall apart after a few washings is about as cool as those pre-ripped jeans you bought, asshole).

I realize that I can’t actually do that unless I go undercover as a Chicago Sun Times reporter, Josie Geller-style. But I can revisit high school thanks to a Canadian gem called Degrassi: The Next Generation.

Watching Degrassi is like watching my high school, except with less talented actors. The kids are all still teenagers, none of them are exceptionally attractive and their problems are shockingly plausible. I find myself yelling at the TV like a normal person watching a basketball game. No, Paige! Don’t smoke weed before a college interview for your dream school! Okay, at least use some Visine first. And stop giggling.

Degrassi allows me to go back to a high school I can actually picture myself attending – unlike, say, its SoCal counterpart, The O.C. Take Marissa: She’s sleeping with a hot surfer who gives her free drugs, she got into UC Berkeley, her house is MTV Cribs-worthy and, even though she’s a size zero, she still manages to be a total buzzkill. I’ll be sure to pity her when I see her in Hell.

Though Degrassi may be lacking in O.C.-level hotness, it makes up for it with compelling drama, earnestness and watchability. It’s giving me a new high school experience, this time as an enlightened and all-knowing 21-year-old. And, for that, I am grateful. Personally, I think you should all shun the likes of Seth and Summer and embrace the Canadian magnificence that is Degrassi.

It’s time to for you to join me, Northwestern, and go back to high school. Come on, you’re not Josie Grosie anymore.

Medill junior Laura Moore is a PLAY pop culture columnist. She can be reached at [email protected].