This just in: while the late March snowfall would have you think otherwise, the semester’s coming to a close. It isn’t winter anymore. Birds are singing when it isn’t snowing — and sometimes when it is. If you’re a fourth-year, that means it’s almost time to roll out into the “real world” — which for some of us, admittedly, just means more school.
Last year I wrote a column in which I said that as a first-year, I’d thought “[t]he upperclassman world was one of mystery and sophistication.” Although my spring break, comprised largely of a diet of All-Bran and fat-free yogurt while I worked on my thesis, was a far cry from sophistication, I can certainly say I’ve felt the mystery.
The first three semesters of my upperclassmen experience took me through a pre-med course load, even though I knew I was majoring in writing. In my fourth year, I opted to apply for MFA writing programs — a process which, unsurprisingly, consists of a lot of writing. More agonizing than the work, though, was the uncertainty, the mystery.
Any application process is nerve-wracking, but artistic ones are even more so. I hated college applications, but at least my SAT scores and GPA helped give me an idea of where I could realistically be accepted. Not so with MFAs. Sure, some of them want your GRE scores, and they ask for transcripts, but that information does little more than prove you actually graduated and are a functioning individual. Almost all emphasis is on your writing sample — you are rewarded for being adventurous and a risk-taker. Regrettably, I am neither of those.
Relatives, friends and anyone else I told about the process all told me how exciting it was that I was going through with it. I vehemently disagreed. I wanted to know — and know immediately — where I would be in the next academic year. I hated the mystery.
It’s not unusual for applicants to MFA programs to receive no acceptances, so my anxiety was not unfounded. Friends unfamiliar with the process assured me I would get in everywhere. That didn’t happen, but I did end up with choices, which was a pleasant surprise. And suddenly, amid the mystery, I felt the excitement everyone had been talking about.
It’s like when you’re walking in the woods with friends and someone sees a bird in a tree. Maybe everyone just has better observational skills than I do, but I’m always the idiot going “Where? Where?” until, finally, I see it. And I see it now — the excitement in the mystery.
I have options in picking a graduate school — finally, I’ll get out of Virginia! — I’ve applied for the summer job of my dreams, and I’ve even found a place to live after graduation. There’s an enormous amount of work ahead, but as I move through the final weeks of the semester, I have perspective. Work, planning and lots of time have helped to get me to where I am now, and more of the same can get me farther.
Courtney’s column runs biweekly Wednesdays. She can be reached at c.hartnett@cavalierdaily.com
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