This past week, I started realizing more about myself and about other students around me. Before I explain what I realized, though, let me first explain how I came to the realization (and believe, it's not a startling one).
This past Wednesday was our Activities Fair. The weather that morning was raining, so even though the afternoon was sunny and bright, the Activities Fair had to be held in Smith Auditorium. That in itself felt a bit strange, as this is the first time I've ever seen a September Activities Fair held indoors (it will also be my last time). Anyway, I was "manning" the Manhattan Magazine table, with some awesome folks I cannot name here because this is a public blog. Next to our table was the Green Club (which takes care of our on-campus garden and promotes eco-friendliness), next to the Green Club was WRCM (our college radio station), next to WRCM was mcTV's table (our college television station), and next to mcTV was The Quadrangle (our college newspaper). (Manhattan Magazine is the college's yearly literary/artwork publication of student work. Anyway, enough parentheses). Of course, other clubs and teams were represented as well: Cheerleading, Crew, Bagpipers, Jazz Band, Games Club--there was something for [almost] everyone. The Performing Arts people even set up a table in front of Smith and started playing the bongos. It was the very picture of collegiate life, and it was pretty darn close to the movies.
Anyway, my point is, as I looked down the line of tables next to me, I realized the people in these clubs (WRCM, mcTV, The Quad) were mostly Communication majors, like me (like myself? I dunno what's grammatically correct). Everyone had their specialty, their chosen field, and they picked a club pertaining to what will be their future career.
The following day (Thursday) was our department-wide meeting. This meant that all the Comm majors were supposed to gather in the Scala room in Leo while the chair, some faculty, and student leaders within the department spoke about the upcoming year--from our honor society to spring internships to club expectations of how they will branch out this year. As I sat in this room and listened to everyone, a thought came to my mind.
What am I going to do after I graduate?
Like I said, it was not a startling revelation, but let me continue. I wasn't a communication major until I was a junior, because I switched at the end of sophomore year. There were people at the meeting who had been communication majors since freshman year. They already know what they're going to be--or at least what they want to be. I chose journalism as my concentration, because I love writing, but I do not want to write for newspapers. The industry is very cutthroat and aggressive and I'm not that kind of person.
Within this department, there are two kinds of students: go-getters and back-burners. Go-getters are the ambitious students who do internships at renowned companies and already have a job by the time they graduate. Back-burners are the students who go through the motions to get their degree, who may do one internship but are not going to break their backs. I'm not a go-getter, so I guess I'm a back-burner. I do well in my classes, and I did do an internship over the summer, but I'm not what I would consider "ambitious." I'm very much a "let's live for today and worry about tomorrow tomorrow" kind of person. "If there is a tomorrow, because you never know, you know?"
What's holding me back? Well, my panic disorder, for one thing. I would love to be the poster child for combating this rascally nemesis, but there's always a part of me that lingers in fear, thinking over the "what if's." What if I have a panic attack during a job interview? What if I have panic attacks during company meetings and they fire me? What if I'm deemed "damaged goods" and my superiors choose to violate the anti-discrimination laws? I'm not entitled to anything. I didn't climb any ladders. I'm not irreplaceable.
Why do you think I like writing? Because I hate speaking! Yes, I'm articulate enough, but I get nervous sometimes and I'd rather have the disconnect of writing. I don't want to be a shut-in, though, and I for sure do not want to work from out of my house. Emily Dickinson is not my role model.
So what will I do?
I think the sooner I figure out what exactly it is that I want to do, then maybe the rest will fall into place. But it will take a lot of "Cold Hard Want"* to get there. It will take a lot of prayer. It will take submission and surrendering and all things tough and troublesome.
I don't have a dream. I don't have goals. I don't make plans. I only have one aspiration: to write a book. That's a side thing, though--not a career. And I always say, "I would be so happy if I could just edit film for the rest of my life." That is probably not going to happen, but if it does, I will come back here and eat my words. Maybe even print them out on paper so I can record myself literally doing so.
Anyway, for now, I'm getting through school and I'm trying very hard not to despair. Ooh, I hate ending on a bad note. Alright, I'll end with this:
"For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future." (Jeremiah 29:11)
This Wednesday night is coffeehouse. I hope I sing. If I don't, though, here's the song I wanted to sing.
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