quarter life crisis, part one

I used to call it a 1/5 life crisis since I will live until 106. But the closer I get to 30…the less that math works.

When I was 7 years old in Mrs. Defife’s first grade classroom, I remember coming to the realization that I wanted to be a teacher. I was not yet in the gifted program *humble brag* so I would sit in class bored out of my mind. I remember thinking, “If this was my classroom I would xyz.” (Such a critical child!) After a while of thinking that I realized, “Hey! I can have a classroom! I can do things my way.” And so it was decided.

I went through several more years of schooling, through elementary school, through middle school, still holding onto this desire. I was always a great student, and though I wasn’t always a teacher’s pet, sometimes I was and sometimes I was merely close. Then 9th grade happened. I started to hate school. There was a particular group of 10th grade boys who were mostly responsible for this new phenomenon. I also started working and that on top of honors classes *humble brag* sprinkled with your usual teenage angst and I was done. I wasn’t going to college, screw becoming a teacher, I’ll just go and live in a forest.

Then 10th grade. I think that was one of my favorite years of school. I had a really stellar cast of teachers. Shoutout to Mr. Morris, Mr. O, Mr. Deliere, Mrs. Shoberg and Mrs. Berry. Mrs. Berry was everything I ever wanted to be. She was incredibly kind, funny, smart, sassy, everyone adored her. I had her for Astro/Geo and don’t remember so much of what we learned but I do remember all the awesome, hands-on projects we did. My faith was renewed, I was going to be Mrs. Berry.

Tenth grade came and went, 11th grade offered up some more wonderful teachers and senior year had another amazing crop. Back in the wanna-be-a-teacher groove, I spent more time observing teachers and seeing who I wanted to emulate and who I found useless. I also decided that I wanted to teach high school since those were the teachers who had the greatest impact on me.

I started at Pitt in 2004 as a Pre-Education major. They didn’t (and don’t) have a Secondary Education major so I was informed to just major in the subject I wanted to teach and then attend the 5th year (ha!) Education program. So I started as a Psychology major. Bo-ring. Sophomore year I switched to Spanish. Ay dios mio, my Spanish will never be good enough. What was left that wouldn’t require taking Calculus or O-Chem? History.

Keith can’t believe I would ever choose History as a major, I am very much not a history buff. I’d give you some examples but I would just embarrass myself. The History major is pretty particular with you needing these exact ~10 classes, no substitutions. I got a few classes in and realized it was not the major for me. I had no desire to take any more stupid history classes. Give me classed about Latin America! Give me History of Pittsburgh! Give me anything but stupid Colonial American drivel.

Having exhausted all my other options, I remembered Anthropology. That’s history-ish? But way more entertaining? I could major in it and teach Social Studies? Sounds good! I had taken (and enjoyed) a few Anthro classes in the past, so I wasn’t going in totally blind. I also loved that the major had 3 must-take classes and then you could pick and choose for your other 7. Much more pleasant than the rigidity of the History major.

So I switched and I’ve been trucking along since. I have really enjoyed all of my Anthro classes. I am on track to graduate next year so I decided to finally bite the bullet and meet with someone from the School of Education. I had been stalking their website and knew that I was on the right track with the stupid pre-reqs but I just figured it was high time to talk things out.

And what a bummer of a meeting it was. The guy I met with was great, he answered (almost) all of my questions and assured me that I was on the correct path but talking to him about my future career path did not excite me…at all. I walked out of the meeting full of doubt. Doubt that I could get into the program, doubt that I would enjoy the program, doubt that I would be able to find a job once I graduated. This was a new feeling. I had known since I was 7 *SEVEN* what I wanted to do…I had spent so long working toward it and now…this?

…to be continued.

 

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3 Comments

  1. Good luck choosing your next step, I always think of the song sunscreen by baz luhrmann when I get unto these kind of situations, I find it such a calming reassurance… steph x

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  1. quarter life crisis part two: the resolution | jellyjars

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