Edumacation

On my way to work, riding the elevator to the sixth floor, a doctor told me that I’m going to go prematurely deaf. He had entered the same time as I, too preoccupied with whatever he was reading to even say ‘excuse me’ when he bumped into me, but when the opening notes of the Supremes “Come See About Me” came marching out from my headphones, he took notice. “If I can hear that…” he began and I removed one headphone, so as not to be disrespectful, but the rest of what he said kind of just melted away. “I’ve been crying—prematurely deaf—boo hoo.” It’s not like I didn’t appreciate his concern, but this wasn’t the first time I’d heard that. Just like it wasn’t the first time that I nodded politely as I walked away, assuring my attempted savior that I would take their advice into consideration. What they don’t seem to understand is that I listen to my music so loudly so I don’t have to listen to anything or anyone else. The more disconnected with the rest of the world I am, the better. And if I end up deaf, which I’m sure I will, well, then it’s my own fault. It’s merely a consequence for a mistake. But most importantly, it’s MY mistake.

I’m beginning to feel the consequences of what may have been a potential mistake. Far too often, the practical side of my personality wins out over my idealistic side. I consider and reconsider every decision in my life, no matter how trivial, because I’m afraid of making the wrong decision. I’ve deliberated for half an hour what to buy for lunch only to decide that I’m not that hungry anymore. But then comes the time when I’m so tired of being afraid that I just say ‘the hell with it’ and jump headfirst into disaster. That dive is almost always immediately followed by regret. However, that was the rationale behind my decision not to go back to school. I wanted to take a chance and pursue writing, music, film, things that made me happiest. It’s like, if I don’t do it now, when will I? The logical step after finishing high school is college. You finish college, then either go onto grad school or find a job. That job will most likely not be in your desired career path, but, hey, bills add up. Eventually, hopefully, you find a job that utilizes that precious degree and those hard-earned skills, or you wake up one day in the same job and wonder exactly what went wrong. The answer is never simple, but following a set path practically invites fucking up somewhere along the line. Truthfully, I never wanted to go to college in the first place. I just wanted to get out of Poughkeepsie and matriculation was the clearest and easiest way to that. Mission: accomplished. Now what?

I was on the “traditional” path until I couldn’t afford NYU anymore, so I had to forge my own path. There was something very exciting in that, not knowing where I was going--I still don’t. But I felt a sort of beauty in fucking up. Everything was falling apart round me, being out of school, ending up homeless and being too stoned and drunk to really care. Disaster. All the while, I was half-heartedly promising myself and my friends that I was going to go back to school because that’s what I thought I was supposed to do and what I thought my friends wanted me to do. After all, what prospects are there for a college dropout? Then I realized that I didn’t want to go back to school. I didn’t want anymore debt, I didn’t want anymore useless classes and I sure as hell didn’t want to start over from scratch. NYU wasn’t about to release my transcript with the thousands of dollars I still owed them. So here I am. I managed to skip the whole finishing school thing and have gone onto the job for a job’s sake. I can’t help feeling twinges of regret, though. Sure I have a job now, but what about a year from now? The initial excitement I felt has decomposed into anxiety and, yes, fear.

On my daily commute to and from work, I notice ads for continuing education. Everyday people smile out at me, happy with their decision to go back to school and urging me to do the same. “Thanks to Interboro, I was able to make a better life for my kids.” Isn’t that sweet? Every time I see one of those ads, that regretting twinge rears its ugly head. How will I ever make a better life for my kids? How will I ever learn English so I can be more viable in the job market? How the hell will I ever start my own eye care business? I could always go back to NYU. I’m pretty sure they have eye care business as a major. I don’t believe it’s for me though. Not just ophthalmology—ha, big word—but university. It all comes down to structure and organization. For some people, they need that structure in order to thrive and that’s fine. I find, however, I need a lack of structure since it allows me to find my own way. If I’m told what to do, either by some well-meaning doctor, or by some clueless professor, I’ll simply ignore it. The world is all noise to me and I need to sort through it I order to find the sound that appeals to me most. And if I should go deaf in the process, well, at least I won’t have to listen to anyone ever again. A win-win situation, if you ask me.