of transitions.

Last night, I had a dream that my Fulbright Grant was approved and I was hours away from boarding a plane to Bosnia.  I was teary as I hugged family and friends, nervous about the life that awaited me.  I woke up with a start, disappointed only to realize that I was still stuck in this snowy state.  But it got me thinking.

There are some major changes coming my way.  A possible trans-Atlantic move or a relocation to New York or DC looms on the horizon.  Add a graduation to the pile, and my life is full of transitions.

But I have this fear.  Until today, I thought it was a fear of actually going away from home for longer than two months. However, seeing the world and living elsewhere has always been a life-long dream; I am not afraid to see and experience things.

This afternoon, in the hallway, I saw a professor I've worked with in the past. We chatted for a few minutes and before he left, he asked when I was graduating.  I replied, but It was his response that really got me and revealed the root of my fear.  "Wow," he said, "be sure to stay in touch."  And that's when it me.  I'm leaving my professors, these classrooms and the books.  In a way, it seems that my identity as a student was leaving me as well.  But is that really true?

Being a student is my identity, it's who I am.  Writing research papers, conducting statistical analysis, critiquing papers and debating with my colleagues is what I do best.  It's an identity I have developed over the last four years and one that I am reluctant to give up.  But I'm realizing that my identity as a student really won't change on April 29, 2012.  The classrooms will.  I won't have the same professors.  My classmates won't consist of the same individuals.  But the learning never stops.  The books I have read and the relationships I have established thus far only enable me to be a better student in the future.

So I say, bring it on.  There's nothing bittersweet about graduating, only the happy thoughts of a limitless classroom at my doorstep.


(Oh, and I can't wait to reread this someday, when I'm forty and grading a stack of papers. I only hope I'll have the same optimism and enthusiasm for life.)