My first week of college was a mixture of excitement and curiosity that quickly turned into fear, self-doubt, and a strong feeling of being overwhelmed. I initially had no intentions on attending college. My immediate family had no one that had been to a university let alone graduated. School enthusiasm was minimal from my main parental figure, my mother, and one that I had to encourage and pursue alone with my decision to attend college. I also had huge influence, encouragement, and support from my high school English teacher.
I declared my major as English Literature with a minor in creative writing (I have discussed this before, but for those that are new to my page here’s some background). I was not in any advanced placement classes in high school except for English. I had tested into the higher division English class for my university, so I knew even going into college that I clearly, even when I doubted myself, had a strong skill set for reading and writing. I took English classes, a drama class, a creative writing beginners’ class, math and a history class for my first semester.
The teachers in my university’s English department were the most educated, caring, passionate, and charismatic professors/teachers I had ever me in my life. I would honestly even say individuals. This was intimidating. I came from a home surrounded around nothing above a high school educational level. I was always inclined when it came to literature and writing. This always left me feeling out of places as I noticed how in touch I was with my emotions, thought process, and my enjoyment of cathartic writing when in desperation for releasing during high levels of turmoil in my household. Writing is the only thing that would make me feel heard, safe, and help me to be able to somewhat regulate.
I love to write from an academic standpoint, but even more so creatively. I was young and went through a chaotic, traumatic and confusing upbringing that left me so lost in how to express myself, regulate my emotions, and how to process what was happening. I know writing could help me release ease in dark or chaotic timing even when I couldn’t fully grasp what was exactly going on externally or internally. I came from a high school where unless you were in an AP class it felt like you were left completely unprepared for college. I was reading at a college reading level in my freshman year of high school. That freshman year English teacher is the only who constantly was like you need to take these skills, passion, and admiration for reading and writing to a college setting.
So, off I went. I was humbled quickly as my professors in the English department left me feeling clueless, confused, and way in over my head with their use of language, their terminology, and course work that was being presented. The vocabulary was beyond anything I had ever heard, readings such as Shakespeare, Langston Hughes, Sylvia Plath, and others had me realizing this world of English literature that I adored and craved was bigger than I had realized. It was over whelming to this point where it was crippling. I felt defeated by the end of the week. I felt unprepared and struggled with telling myself to accept that I was too stupid for college.
I realized I could either drop out and go down a path of struggle with no higher education and possibly end up like my parents, or I could take the initiative to put in all and any extra work that was going to be necessary to be successful in this degree process. I took it upon myself to engage in every discussion, communicate with each of my professors, research every chance I got with google, books, or peers. I learned to embrace asking questions and grew accustomed to being best friends with my dictionary. Ironically, I learned to love Shakespeare, Edgar Allen Poe, Langston Hughes, and Sylvia Plath. I grew a deeper admiration for poetry and found a love for Young Adult Literature.
I learned to love to learn, especially in a field that I had such a strong passion for that it helped me to eventually graduate with my BA in English. Sometimes that first day can be daunting and leave you feeling hopeless, but allow yourself to process, reassess, and then push forward with a new strategy.
Simpkins Hall- English Department. This was my second home, my escape, and my safe space during my college years ❤
Escaping Reality and looking within 