Wednesday, August 7, 2013

Retract Your Beaks

So, much to my dismay, my degree choice of English with a Creative Writing focus involving three different schools is apparently not only relevant to people who will never be affected by it, it is also cause for some kind of scholastic intervention.


Let me lay this out for you, because there is an obvious need for an explanation, here.


I am not under the impression that I am going to get my master’s in Creative Writing, walk out of Ball State/IU’s entrance gates in cap and gown, and be offered some elusive job in “creative writing” on the spot by an androgynous man in a black limo. It’s truly eye-opening to see how many people think that my brain works that way. No, I know what I’m getting into. This decision has not been made without a year and a half of fighting with myself, mapping out future internships, reviewing open positions at universities and community colleges to get an idea of what I want to do, etc.


I am a writer above all other professions. Prepare for an onslaught of “you don’t need a degree to write.” Well, yes, you’re correct. You also don’t need a medical degree to try to do your own stitches when you need them, but no one is going to let you do theirs without showing them a degree from a university first. If I want to be a professor, and not just a writer, I will need a degree.


And I DO want to be a professor.


Thank you for your concern and your suggestions to major in something more realistic like “business management” or “computer science.” Really, I get it. Why don’t I just give up all my dreams and work in a call center the rest of my life, watching people come and go and wondering when the crinkly hands of death will finally close around my throat?


You mean well, but the execution is terrible. Let me do what I want. It’s my money, and I know what I’m doing. I’m almost 30 years old. When I want to be justly criticised, I will bring up my dating history and ask for advice. Until then, hands off. This is not your ship to steer, and if I end up beaching the damn thing, at least it was my own fault.


YOU major in business management and computer science. YOU get a respectable job in a growing field. YOU take online classes at a for-profit online college where the credits don’t transfer because YOU can’t stand school, not me. I love school. I love everything about it, and I’m not about to take shortcuts because you think I’m making a mistake.


Buh-bye now :) I am childish and immature! Perhaps even bitter. But at least I'm doing what I want, not what makes money. Early stress-related deaths are not for me.