I shoved myself into the doors of Wooster as someone who loved the idea of science and refused to believe I could be anything but a doctor. It was what people considered a “science school” and I felt like I could fit in here.
My family would constantly praise me at family events, declaring that I would be the first doctor in the family and would do so much good. I’d save lives, and it was such a selfless sacrifice.
I did not want to be a doctor.
In fact, what had pulled me away from an English major had been conversations with myself like this-
I could be an English major that makes sense I love to read but I couldn’t be a writer I have the attention span of a gnat i lose track of things after 30 seconds there’s no way I can be someone who could sit down and just write and I don’t want to teach but I guess I could just make kindergartners march in a little circle and learn about nouns and colors and ohmygod iamsodoomed.
Contrary to what most think, I was not forced into pre-med by my family. I forced myself into thinking I’d like it and that it was the responsible choice. After hearing their response to my medical plan, I became addicted to that validation. However, then these conversations started happening-
Academic Advisor- What if you just stop going to this class, because it’s stressing you out far too much and we don’t think you can pass.
OChem Professors- How are you going to be able to pass these exams?
etc, etc, etc, etc, etc, etc………..
I’d sniffle in my professor’s office and they’d slowly slide me a box of kleenex and I’d be feeling all sorry for myself knowing I wasn’t in the right spot.
Instead, I’d be thinking about how I love literature and I can analyze it like there’s no tomorrow. I have been drawing since I could hold the stubby crayons for chubby baby fingers, and I would dunk my entire hands into gallons of paint if my mother wasn’t watching me with a raised brow.
When I made what felt like the massive life decision to declare an English major, I knew I had made the right decision when the Department Head emailed me back:
SUBJECT LINE: WOOHOOOOO
Now, whenever I see family and they ask me about school, I say I’m studying English and Art. They go, “huh, okay.” But it doesn’t matter, and everything is fine. Because I’ll be on the second floor of Ebert dunking my hands in paint and writing literature reviews, knowing that I can do what makes me happy for the rest of my life.
I loved your blog. I feel like a lot of us end up repressing our artistic sides in the name of pleasing others, even if they aren’t forcing you to do something. I feel the same way sometimes. I think the way you used the colored blocks was really awesome – especially considering that the only two you use are integral points in your personal journey.
I really loved this post. It feels like you took us on that mental journey with you with the way you formatted the paper. I especially like the paragraph beginning with “I could be an English major.” The way the sentence just goes from idea to idea with no stopping really replicates the stress of that kind of train of thought and the urgency you feel when you’re trying to make a decision about what you’ll do for the rest of your life (or at least for the next 4 years). It just feels like so much, just like how so many ideas were squished into one sentence and one moment of time. I also liked the dark red box. It stands out and feels like that moment when the narrator steps in or the actor looks straight at the camera, and you get that insight into what’s *actually* happening in your mind. Also, the “etc. etc. etc. etc. …” You captured that bottomless pit feeling of anxiety about making really important decisions, and it made your post feel really relatable and organic.