Today is the start of my latest educational online group endeavor, the Reflective Writing Club sponsored by the Online Network of Educators. The opening writing prompt is “What do you know now that you wish you had know then?”
“Identify a time in your past and think critically about differences between then and now. How have you changed? What do you know now that you wish you had known then about yourself, your profession, other people, technology, or life in general?”
This was a challenge as I believe many lessons in life require refreshing, as we slide off course into the uncomfortably silent classrooms, stand in front of the cupboard engaged in mindless munchies, perform the perfectionist procrastination (see this blog post as Exhibit A), and live the harried life of the overcommitted. However, I was able to look back at my young self and recognize that I have learned a thing or two about life, in particular about the role of education.
When I remember my early 20s, I see myself in my unflattering office khakis, staring at a screen, waiting for the next task or email during the endless 8 a.m. to 5 p.m shift. I had done everything that was expected of me: pursued a career-oriented path, worked every internship I could find, paid off my college loans six months after graduation, and obtained a public relations position with a good salary and benefits. I was miserable and bored. Instead of creating a life that fit me, I fit myself into the life I thought I was supposed to have. I developed ulcers —stressed by the series of bland days that stretched in front of me and by the many cups of coffee I drank.
If I could go back to my undergraduate years, I would tell myself to slow down and appreciate the opportunities for discovery. A straight path is the quickest way to the reach the wrong destination. It’s a hard mentality to embrace, though, as a first-generation college student. College is seen as necessary step to a financially secure future, not a place to find oneself. At the community college, we are now putting students on guided pathways because excess credits are a waste of time and money. Who can afford to explore?
Last week, I sat with our Admissions staff to discuss all the wonderful opportunities and programs we offer through our English discipline. They listened politely and seemed appropriately impressed at times; however, at the end, they still wanted to direct students to a specific career with a comforting salary. I heard how students come to them and share how they love to take pictures and how they reply that this is a hobby, not a career. Excuse me, what? I was that student. I loved to write and I was made to shape that love into one particular job title, which ultimately was not the right one for me.
The best decision I made was to go back to graduate school, not to invest in a career, but to invest in myself. Even though it was not my intention, through exploring my passions, I found my true vocation. After a year of classes, I left my office job and entered the classroom. I now live the life that fits me and am no longer plagued by ulcers, though I still love coffee.