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.)

today, there is tea, sunshine and relief. my future is now in the hands of the state department.

The beginning of the end.

Four years ago, I embarked on this thing called college.  I had no idea what it really was.  Heck, I could barely understand the difference between a bachelors, masters or a doctorate!  Originally, I was supposed to be in music school and aside from a few english and math classes, I expected to live with my flute and piano for the duration of my undergraduate degree.  Cough, sputter, choke. That's obviously not what happened; God clearly had other ideas for my life.

For starters, college has taught me that life doesn't always go as planned.

I didn't graduate when I should have. I should have been done this past spring, but my diploma will read 2012. I've just been telling people that I love school that much.

Graduation day aside, when I DO receive my diploma in April, I will be a "sociologist". What's a sociologist? I will commit an academic sin and quote wikipedia:

"It is a social science—a term with which it is sometimes synonymous—which uses various methods of empirical investigation and critical analysis to develop and refine a body of knowledge about human social activity."

Didn't get that? As a sociologist, half of it's blabber to me as well, so don't worry.  Essentially, when I walk across the stage at convocation, I'll be a sociologist who is certified in observing people (aka: creepin'), conducting interviews (qualitative sociologists, holla!), surveying the masses (quantitative sociologists, I don't know how you can stand this stuff) and then some. I'll be educated, or something like that. A far cry from music school, no?

But ya know education-schmeducation aside, I've learned some other random, yet valuable, lessons:

Professors make mistakes.
You will forget to submit an assignment (and you will survive).
Class gets canceled every great once in a while.
Three jobs sometimes suck your spare time.
Somehow, you find time for extra curricular activities (like literally running yourself dead by participating in cross-country).
Sometimes you transfer to another school.
You don't receive the grade you thought you deserved.
Your major changes once or twice (or three, four and five times).

The doors I once was scared of are now familiar (I really hate the squeaky doors).  That intimidating professor?  Yeah, she's writing my letter of recommendation.  The borderline psycho professor I swore I'd never see again?  Um yeah, about that. She's my boss now. Those unfamiliar faces?  We're friends.  And today marks the beginning of the end of all that.  I didn't expect to encounter any of it, but it happened and now it's going to end soon.  And it's bittersweet.  College wasn't so scary after all.

My life in 3 Photos

I would rather be here:

Instead, I'm stuck here doing too much of this:


Looking like this 99.9% of the time:

arabic!

I typically hate posting images this large, but I did it this once so you can get a good view of what I've been doing in school :) In case you didn't know, this is Arabic and I've been working on diagramming sentences. For a foreign language/linguist geek like myself, I love it!