"A small key opens big doors." ~~Turkish Proverb
A year ago in Aspen, CO, while rubbing elbows with fur wearing socialites flocking the groomed ski runs at Aspen Mountain Resort, I decided I was going to apply for Graduate School. This is an idea I’ve been tossing around for a few years, never really taking it too seriously. I didn't really think of myself as graduate studies material. That is, until the day I found myself at a standstill in my career, unsure where I wanted to go with it. Graduate school seemed the next best logical step. I felt ready, I was thinking about it all the time. So in spring of 2013, I verbally stated I was going to get serious about it.
As most things go in my life, I think about it, agonize over it for a while, then decide that I’m going to do it, and then of course wait until the absolute last minute to do something about it. That was exactly how I pursued applying to graduate school. I acknowledged my desire in the spring, talked about it during the summer, researched a couple of programs that interested me in my free time between guiding multi-day sea kayak trips in Alaska. And then shelved the idea once life got busy and a bit out of control. Despite the fact that I’d shoved the idea as far away from me as I could, it remained, a hidden, nagging reminder that I’d made a promise to myself.
All winter I have been craving purpose in my life. It’s been a consistent theme in my thoughts, musings in my journal...this blog. I traveled to Taiwan in December and spent two weeks attempting to reflect and figure out what was next in my life. I came back none the wiser. I went back to work, agonizing over what I was going to do come the summer months, applying to jobs left and right. I had no real rhyme or reason to my applications. I was applying where my qualifications fit and what would pay the bills. But, the whole time, I wasn’t excited about any of the jobs I was pursuing. I didn’t feel like any of them were going to challenge me. I was going through the motions because I needed to in order to survive.
What was wrong with me? Normally the idea of a new adventure has me on the edge of my seat, but instead I was dragging my feet.
February rolled around and with it a friendly email reminder from Prescott College. February 15th was the application dead line for the Graduate Teacher’s Assistant Program. What made me open that email, I don’t really know, but it was the flame that lit the match under my ass. I looked at my watch. It was February 5th. I had ten days before deadline. It was time to get down to business.
The week that followed was probably one of the most agonizing weeks I’ve spent in a long time. I didn’t know where to begin. I was applying to Prescott College’s Limited Residency Master’s Adventure Education program and their Graduate TA program. They were asking for a 3-5 page Personal Statement of Intent and an Academic Focus with a proposed Thesis topic. I had no damn idea what I wanted my thesis to be and when it comes to bragging about myself and my accomplishments, I tighten up like a clam out of water. I was not off to a good start.
Thankfully, I have some amazing friends in my life and it just so happened that I worked with one of them here in Hong Kong. Without Turkey, I don’t think I would have gotten through the application process. The fact that he endured a week of me ranting and raving on the couch in the Mui Wo office and didn’t bat an eyeball at my childish behavior is a testament to our friendship. Instead, he calmly listened to me berate myself for my “stupidity and ignorance” as I struggled through the processes of a Thesis proposal. When I was to the point of pulling my hair out and throwing my notebook across the room, he told me to get off my ass and go for a walk and come back later. Granted, I ignored him, which is how our friendship works.
When the ideas finally started coming, and I was afraid that I’d forget them as soon as they materialized, Turkey fixed the problem with a dry erase marker and a white board, creating a flow chart from every word that came out of my mouth. And finally, a thesis topic was born. It wasn’t pretty, but it was there.
Two weeks ago, I received the email congratulating me on getting accepted into the Graduate Program at Prescott College. Two days later I had my interview for the Graduate TA program and less than a week later I received word that I’d been accepted into that as well. It doesn’t seem real, but I’ve finally got exactly what I was looking for. Grad School. The next big step.
It’s not really a big deal because just about everyone is pursuing higher education these days, but it’s a big deal to me. I am the only person in my family to go to college to pursue a Bachelor’s degree and now I’m the first to face a Master’s Degree. I’ve partially known this was the eventual next step, while at the same time not really sure if it was where I wanted to be going. But it’s here now, and yeah, I want it about as badly as I wanted to go to the bottom of the world a few years ago. Grad School and Antarctica seem to be pretty far off from one another on the spectrum, but to me, this is a once in a life time chance just like Antarctica was.
I told myself if I got into the TA program, I’d go ahead and plan for Fall ’14 enrollment. If I didn’t get in, I’d defer for another year to save up more money. Well, I got into the TA program and despite my promise to myself, I hesitated to accept. I felt like I stood between two doors, suspended, waiting to make the right decision. Which door was I supposed to go through? If I deferred for another year, I could save more money and be better prepared. On the other hand, it felt like this was it. The opportunity was there, presenting itself, and I didn’t want to look the gift horse in the mouth. I didn’t want to regret my decision.
Life is pretty much a 50/50 chance when it comes to making the right decision. I’ve never been too good at letting go of regrets, always posing that “what if” question. It’s something I’m trying to get better at; to look forward rather than wallow in the backwardness of the past. So, faced with these two doors, knowing that whichever I choose would alter my life to some extent, maybe one more than the other, how did I decide?
The determining factor was my need for forward progress. It was time to take that step. So, I accepted the TA position, which meant I was going to grad school at the beginning of August. It was a big threshold to walk over and as soon as that door shut behind me, I have been in virtual panic mode ever since. What if I’m not cut out for Grad School? I haven’t sat in a formal classroom in ten years. I’ve completely forgotten how to write a research paper let alone even know how to write and defend a Thesis! What am I getting myself into? I’m going to be in debt for the rest of my life. What if I fail and let my family down?
What if I let myself down? Myself…my very own worst critic.
These are the questions that have been battering away inside my head ever since, leaving me feeling bloody and bruised, my brain nothing but mush. The actual start to Grad School is still three and a half months away. What’s going to happen to me when August 4th finally roles around?
At the same time, I am elated beyond words, and that also contributes to some of the panic. I have been searching for purpose, a challenge, for the past year. I’ve been floating stationary, neither moving forward or backward for many months it feels like. My purpose has finally arrived. I feel like I am starting to wake up, ready to be kicked around and reminded that I’m a mere human in something far bigger.
I’m striving to ignore the panic attacks I face every day as I think about what’s ahead. Will I fail? Am I cut out for this? Failure is a part of education believe it or not. If you learned at least one thing, you didn’t fail. Maybe it won’t be the outcome I intended, but if I get something out of it, that’s all that matters. I have to remind myself of this.
A friend once told me that you can always walk away. I’m not good at walking away from things because I don’t like to give up, and that’s pretty much what kept my butt glued to that couch during the week I agonized through my application. I’d started the process and I was going to see it through. I didn’t know what the outcome would be. I didn’t know if they’d like what they saw or not. It was a chance and either way it didn’t mean I would fail if it wasn’t a positive outcome. The fact that I tried, was what mattered.
If I’m not meant for this, I’ll know as soon as I’m there. Walking away doesn’t mean I failed. As they say, good judgment comes with experience, but experience comes from poor judgment.
Knowledge. It’s a word that packs a lot of weight behind it. It does a body good.