School has overtaken my life. And some how, I'm rather okay with that.
I have spent years of my life thinking I wasn't smart enough--not pretty enough--just never enough, for whatever this world had in store for me.
Melissa, my sister and best friend, was the smart one. I remember when she was in high school and all these advertisements were sent to our house---"Come to our College" they would collectively say. Melissa had a good head on her shoulders but she was lacking in the trust fund department. So she did what most high school graduates did in Brevard County--she went to B.C.C. Brevard Community College, we were told, was a great school and it was just a stepping stone to go on to a four year college or university. That is, if you ever made it out of there with a degree. A lot of people stopped after a while--the Shea girls were no exception. Melissa had but one class to take to get her Associates degree...one...that's all. She's been out of school for over ten years now--she's gotten married, has three beautiful kids, a house, two cars, and just one class to take.
When I was in high school....
...let's just say that I wasn't on the honor roll. I barely passed. It was all because of Math (well, my inability to understand and prove mathematical theorems). But it was my senior year and I was going to have fun with my friends, not worry about college because I assumed that while I was a less than stellar student, some college would be fighting its way into my mailbox to say that they were "so happy they found me, would I please go to their school." Those letters never came.
After high school I did a whopping two semesters at B.C.C. before I stopped going to school entirely. I was burnt out--I didn't know what I wanted to do anymore and I was getting terrible grades. I did well in the classes that I had some sort of interest in, but the rest of them could fuck off, as far as I was concerned. So I stopped going to school and I worked for a while. And I moved around for a bit. Out of my Dad's house in Indian Harbour Beach to my sister's place in West Palm Beach. From one family member to another---I became "that person." I left West Palm after two years to move out to California. I stayed with a friend and her parents for two months and realized this just wasn't the state for me. I made leaps and bounds for getting out of a red state, to live a red house in a blue state. This is not to say that living with my friend's family was like being on Crossfire...it wasn't. I just knew I didn't belong there--and I missed my family. I remember the call I made to my mom, who was living in Naperville, Illinois at the time.
I told her that I didn't want to go back to Florida--it would only be a step back. She bought me a one way ticket on Southwest Airlines for $53 from San Diego to Chicago on the condition that I get back into school. It took about a year and a half or so for that condition to iron itself out. I was frightened of going back to school. It wasn't about being so much older than many of the students--it was the anxiety of "what if I choose the wrong profession?" One of the conditions of living at my mother's house was that I HAD to go to church. It was not an option. I tried to get out of it many times--more because of the oppressive nature of this requirement rather than my belief in God. In all of these things, the only thing that was constant was my faith. So I started small when I went back--taking a religion course, a business course, an English course and a course on Alfred Hitchcock's movies.
I went to College of DuPage for two years--during which I had this insane notion to move to my favorite city in all of the world--Boston. I went to visit my family there and checked out Simmons College, in hopes of getting into the Ivy League of Women's Colleges. I was plotting out this move with a friend of mine and there was some question as to whether she would be able to go or not. Boston has been my dream city since I was a little girl. I knew I couldn't afford it on my own so I thought that I had better come up with a back up plan.
During the school year, a representative of Roosevelt University in Chicago had called me and said that I was eligible to get a scholarship of 5K if I went to RU. The day that I applied for Roosevelt to be my back up school is the day that my friend im'ed me, telling me she couldn't go to Boston. About a month later, I was driving to the airport to visit my family in Florida and I got a call from Roosevelt, inviting me to enroll in the university. I got in. Somebody wanted me. I still hadn't heard from Simmons but I decided to throw caution to the wind and take the scholarship and the hand that Roosevelt was offering. A month and a half later, Simmons wrote me a letter. They accepted me too.
Because I had already taken RU up on their offer, I respectfully declined to attend Simmons. I know now that I made the best decision. I transferred on to Roosevelt University--I have over a 3.0 gpa and I've realized that I'm rather smart. Sure I'm 30 and I'm getting my Bachelors in English with a minor in Women and Gender Studies in the Spring...but I earned it. That is mine.
In all of this, I have realized that I wasn't stupid before. I just didn't know what I wanted or what wanted me.
My mom says that some people are late bloomers...perhaps she is right. And as the Radiohead song suggests, "everything's in its right place."
Cara Mudah Bermain Poker Online
5 years ago