I've done something amazing. I left the small town of Thief River Falls to follow... what I thought was my dream. I love Savannah. I love the people I meet, I love my new job as a Video Production Assistant, I love AASU's campus. I love the weather, I love how different each part of Savannah is (just the other day I drove through what looked like Mexico, then straight through Hatton, ND, and then back into what I identify as Savannah). I'm surrounded by magical trees. I feel like if I climbed into them, I'd find my head surrounded by fairies and trolls beneath my feet. My campus is literally a plethora of flora from all over the world. I've seen seeds from plants that make me feel like understanding where shapes came from. I love sitting next to the water fountain watching butterflies float by my head, spanish moss dangling from branches shading me from the hot sun.
Yet, here I sit, frustrated, and uninspired. My teachers are definitely of a higher quality than what I've experienced (mostly) in higher education so far. But I've been spoiled. One high school English teacher and his influence nags in the corner of my mind. The word that floats around my head as I'm doing homework is: mediocre. I've never felt so inspired, so excited to learn and happy to be in a classroom than when I was studying under this teacher. I've had good professors in college, of course, but none that gave me the feeling that what I was doing with my education was so right.
So my baby comes home and tells me about his day, the characters he meets (I say characters instead of people, because they have literally transcended the idea of being a single human being and are now unique individuals with personality), and I'm sad. I'm angry with myself. Everything that I've done in the last three years of college feel almost worthless. I want to start over, but at SCAD. I hate how the buildings are in the center of historic Savannah (mostly because driving and parking is a god-awful nightmare and I feel like I'm about to have a panic attack from lack of space). I hate the idea of transferring all of my credits AGAIN, getting FAFSA to transfer...AGAIN. I hate the cost. I haven't written anything creative outside this blog in years. I've forced myself to learn how to write what a teacher wants, because that's the kind of English teaching I've been getting. It's lazy, and I despise it. Yet, here I am.
Now, there truly is nothing wrong with AASU. It's my first semester, so I haven't had time to find the amazing professors. But I don't want to have to search. I'm probably jumping to conclusions, but my husband has been encouraging me to stop selling myself short, to apply to SCAD, just to see what happens. My husband came home today and told me that he finally had professors that he knew would challenge him. Professors who have worked for the New York Times, taught at Columbia University, ect. I love the opportunities SCAD can present. I love how much help SCAD has given my husband over his PTSD disability. I love that the money he is paying is giving him an actual hand up over what I've experienced between my Financial Aid office and Registration Office.
Honestly, I'm tired of the education I'm getting. I'm tired of being in school. I don't want to transfer to another school again, but I want a better education. I want to be almost ensured a job outside of school. I want to make the connections necessary to advancing my career. It's not enough to work hard in America. You need to work smart. I don't know if I have that ability at AASU. I guess I'll find out by the end of this year. I'm just sick of hating something I used to love. I haven't picked up a pencil for anything other than to take notes because it's tedious. It's a chore, and all I want to do is watch Alphas or Babylon 5 or talk to my husband. I've felt uninspired for so long that I've forgotten how to dream. This favorite high school teacher of mine used to tease me for being an idealist. I don't even know if I can be that way any more. John gets upset, telling me to stop being so negative, start dreaming, because I can do it. I can achieve these dreams. We've already achieved one of them: to leave Minnesota. That's a start. And yet, I can't stop being negative Nelly. I don't know what it's like to stop punching my dreams in the face any more. I encourage John to follow his dreams, because I KNOW he can do it. But because they are MY dreams, they feel unreachable. I don't know what happened, between 2010 and 2012. But dreaming isn't my thing any more. Idealism is a thing of the past. All I really want is to read Harry Potter without analyzing it. I just want to enjoy my favorite books. I haven't even been able to read a good book for hours on end like I used to. I get jittery, need to stand up and walk around, and continue feeling frustrated. I know I deserve to follow my dreams. Hell, I'm a decent enough writer that I know I could get into SCAD. The amount of scholarships is debatable. But I know I can do this. Or at least, I used to. I'm not sure what happened, but I want to be that senior in high school again. I've got the amazing and loving husband to get me there. Now I just need the will and the confidence to throw myself out there, despite every reason why I SHOULDN'T. I think the education system is trying to ruin me.
