College

 

Last night, I confided in my best friend that I’m feeling really intimidated about college. Now, this is a conversation that was explored countless times in the safety and comfort of my literary class. I’m an alumna of the Mississippi School of the Arts. My two years there, I lived in dorms and explored the dimensions of other people, so of course we had countless conversations about plans after high school and what to expect. The truth is, as told to me by my friend, college only appears to be daunting from the outside in. Once I’m there, all I have to do is pay attention, and I’m pretty much solid.

            That should be the end of it. I should be confident and comfortable in that explanation because it came from a trusted source that would never steer me wrong. And yet…I still find myself slightly intimidated by the idea of uprooting my life to pursue a degree that got me laughed at by the owner of a pizza joint in Brookhaven, Ms. Perhaps I’m just overthinking it. I know myself. I know my capabilities, but all too well I also know my weaknesses. I procrastinate. I have awful spending habits. I can handle large scale issues, but I might cry if a roach flies around my apartment in Chicago. It’s just me. That’s who I am.

            Honestly, though, making the adjustment isn’t what scares me. I’m capable of change. I mean, MSA taught me that. I moved out of home at sixteen, scored my first job and kept it for almost a year before resigning, became a better writer, and learned a good bit of things about myself both good and bad. The move doesn’t scare me. Finding a job doesn’t scare me. Feeling like I may fall into an endless cycle? That does scare me. My mom went to community college for like a semester before admitting school just wasn’t for her. My dad went to college, but he doesn’t have a degree that I’m aware of, and my brother has a GED.

            Not attending college has never been an option for me. Watching my family struggle, I felt compelled to go as it appeared to be the only way to avoid poverty. Needless to say, I spent a good bit of my life looking at careers that would catapult me to six figures in a short time span. I care about people, so I settled on psychology before realizing everybody and their mama wants to be a counselor. I considered being an OB/GYN at a point in time before taking health science class at our career center and realizing I honest to God just don’t have the stomach for a medical career. The beginning of senior year, I finally came to grips with the fact that I would love to be a full-time writer and until I can afford to do that, I’d like to be an English professor.

            I am comfortable in this decision and think it just makes sense. I never want to stop writing. This way, I get the stability I need to pursue my dream. I just…worry. I quit McDonald’s after like a month because a) it made my soul itch and b) I sort of wondered when the other people there 30+ decided fast food wouldn’t be temporary. I’m not knocking anyone’s hustle by any means. You do what you have to, but it isn’t irrational for me to think that could easily be me. Stagnation terrifies me; however, I’m determined to let the chips fall where they may. Whatever happens, I’ll bounce back. Promise.