What do you want to be when you “grow up?” When we are little, we know exactly what we want to be: ballet dancer, fire fighter, etc. Then the real world comes, washes out our mouths, and we must start from scratch.
Fresh out of high school, my highest grades were in physiology and english. Therefore, I went off to college as a biology major with intentions of becoming a doctor. After a few quarters I realized some things. Thing the first…I would have to take calculus. Thing the second…the degree to which I detested the taking of calculus was highly pronounced. These two things, once realized, resulted in a change of major to something equally practical, but sans-calculus: psychology. I enrolled in beginning level psych, went to class about six times, and passed with a C. I don’t even remember what the professor looked like—the reason being that, in addion to academic explorations, I was also pursuing a rigorous investigation into my social life (also known as partying). After about a year of nonsense I decided to re-assess. I withdrew from the university, got a job working as a teller in a bank, and started a nursing curriculum at the community college. Here, I resumed my love affair with physiology only to discover an acute aversion to microbiology; I signed up and dropped out numerous times before throwing in the towel. Higher education and I had come to an impasse.
Fast forward several years. I am working as a hostess and enjoying a free-spirited lifestyle. At this time I rediscover my connection to the written word, and the small spiral notebook takes up residence in my pocket. I become a self-appointed journalist. Preferred subject? The human experience! I investigate the nuances of relationship, the intricacies of emotion, the variations of expression. I document the many processes, mental-physical-spiritual, that I encounter.
Although technically a “hobby” at this point, my passion for inquiry, both internal and external, is tremendous. I line the shelves with notes, observations, and records of various types. Meanwhile, following the advice of my father, I obtain a real estate license and begin working in a small firm. There is plenty of opportunity in the field of real estate, and good money. The only problem is that I don’t seem to care. I have begun to think of writing as my primary passion, and my creative whims sweep me out of the office and into the world at large where I stumble upon a brilliant plan: go back to school for a degree in writing. Make a living on student loans and financial aid. Allow college to serve as a networking and support system, while strengthening my foundations.
And that is how, ten years after I started, I have returned to UCSD. I tracked down the Wellness Center during my first week on campus, walked inside, and offered my services.
Each of us has a calling, but the world is noisy; sometimes it’s hard to hear ourselves. Persistent exploration, assesment, and inquiry allow us to listen closely and follow through. Take advantage of the many resources here on campus—from student organizations to internships and employment—this is prime time for self-cultivation. Happy trail blazing!
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