I struggled with my blog before because I always felt uncomfortable posting what I wanted to post. I guess I felt like I was being judged. It was that place I was afraid of letting teachers, peers, and coworkers into. With the renovation of my blog into something more realistic I’m both terrified and ready to just post. It might not be perfect but this is where I can keep my thoughts and bits of writing. Some day I might look back and think a piece sucked or it’ll jog my memory about a tiny detail I have long forgotten. I can already look back and see the changes since I first began. It’s constantly evolving as I figure out how to deal with me as me. So here I am just posting things I’ve written in the past, projects I have been editing and working on, and new blurbs I need to keep safe.
Today was the last day of classes. It seems completely insane that the semester has finally come to a close. This has been without a doubt the hardest and seemingly longest semester of my entire college career. Maybe it’s because everything was new; a major, a minor, courses, materials, and teachers that I wasn’t familiar with. And honestly, I’m still not familiar or completely comfortable with any of it. I knew what to expect going into any education class. I knew what the layout of the textbook would look like. I knew all of the teachers and a good portion of my classmates. I knew what quality of work was expected and I knew what questions to ask. I haven’t bonded with any English or business professors, I have made just a few class acquaintances (but I’m still feel like I am on the outside), and it’s hard to know what is expected from your work when you don’t know the difference between perfect and sloppy. I have no idea what questions to ask because I don’t know what I am missing or what I am confused on since I am mostly just floating around it all rather than in the nucleus. There are a lot less creative projects and more essays and tests. I have never been a great test taker and although it sounds like a lazy excuse I just don’t learn that way. I like to play with things and create things. You could lecture me for days and I am still not going to understand it as well as if you would let me do it and learn it along with you. The best parts of this semester were when I was able to write freely and creatively. I don’t want to write research essays. I don’t want to study and memorize terms for a macroeconomics examination. Somehow, I just don’t see how any of this is valuable or useful in real life. It has to matter, right? Otherwise people wouldn’t still be flocking into colleges. I have become a sort of cynic this semester. I feel a little bit like a hippie because all I want to do is roam around with a notebook and a pen to see different things and have fun. I used to love school. I got excited about school supplies, spent hours doing my homework neatly, and thoroughly enjoyed learning new information. Last year I slowly started to fall away from it and I tried to convince myself I wasn’t losing my passion for school but I was. And now it’s basically gone. I have no motivation to do anything school related. I want to read the books I want to read. I want to write all day long. I want to go see something I have never seen before. Last semester when I was finishing my education classes and everyone was getting excited about student teaching next year I realized there was no way I belonged there. I still wanted to be with the students but I didn’t want to be their teacher. I wanted to have freedom to work with children on my terms and on their terms. Shouldn’t kids be learning more than just these “core essential topics” that are said to be needed? I wanted to explore and learn with them and show them the things that I find exciting. But I was in no way excited about being a student teacher, doing certification exams, following strict education laws, and selling my soul to this system. I am not usually outspoken about things like this. I feel like I am putting it all on the line here and it is actually really refreshing. When people used to say “college isn’t for me” or “I’m not a school person” I thought how can you not go to college? Don’t get me wrong, I am glad I did go to college and that I have the parents who pushed me to succeed but am ready for it to end now. Next year I will be a fifth year senior and I am so conflicted. I’ll have one more year to get everything I can out of the college experience and I’ll be here with my best friend, but I so don’t want to do classes anymore. I’m sick of living a lie. People change, their interests alter, and their passions evolve. I used to love school and now I don’t. I used to hate working out and now I love it. I used to follow people but now I am leading. I don’t need anyone to follow me. I am perfectly fine walking out into that big, scary world on my own. But I am done living this lie. School isn’t for me. Not anymore. I love learning, always have. I just don’t love school. I don’t feel like anyone cares here and I don’t feel like they actually want me to learn things that will transfer to the world outside this school. So I guess all I am trying to say is don’t go to school if it isn’t for you. Or wait a year. Take a year and see things and figure out what life is really about. Because when you are a part of a college campus and it is all you live and breathe day after day you forget about the real world. Your world is classes and no one knows anything that is going on outside the perimeter of school. It’s a sad and fake little world inside these walls. And I’m racing up the wall, ready to climb out. One year to go until freedom. I’ll have to get the glitter out to make everything more sparkly next year.