No. Thirty Three
I was the thirty third person in line at my graduation. I couldn’t believe it when I picked up my cap and gown before the ceremony began and the lady told me “congratulations” while handing me my name card with #33 in the top right hand corner. At the time I had no idea why that number was assigned to me and what the relevance was to the procession of the evening. I was #33 though and that fact comforted me. I smile at how things seemed to be coming full circle.
No. Thirty Three.
In high-school I wore that number all through my fives years of playing basketball as a Notre Dame Knight. Originally I wanted #3 but there wasn’t a jersey made with that number so I figured the next best thing was to double up, hence #33 was mine. Those were good times. I loved ball season. Hope and happiness bled from my wide eyes in those days. The world was mine for the taking and there wasn’t anything blurry about my future. The road had been paved, all I had to do was walk. And I did walk for a while, usually without stopping to smell a rose, much to my regret. High school didn’t really end with a bang, in my last years I was slacking in my studies due to procrastination and my tendency to coast at times.
So when I landed in post-secondary redoing a year in the GAS program I hit the ground running through tests and assignments like I had spilt the atom. I finished that leg with a 3.8 GPA.
Dedication yields results.
On to my second stint at post-secondary. I was anxious and excited to crack open the books and become closer to my dream job. Kinesiology held my attention for a while and I was determined to finish strong. However, this time, I smelled the roses and ducked into a couple dirt paths that caught my eye. Immediately I enjoyed the detours more than the straight and narrow. The challenge of new ideas was mind-blowing to say the least. I devoured notions about my history, my womanhood and my place in society with intense pleasure. Slowly but surely Kinesiology began to fall back.
Then my home life drastically changed about three quarters into the game, and I was rattled. What I thought was right and destined for me was falling apart and had me very unsettled. I was losing it and I began to think I didn’t even want to follow my original plan anymore. I began to think that it taught me nothing about life and that I was stupid to think everything would be ok as long as I worked hard. I was never warned that the people I thought were dedicated to me might not remain that way. I felt like a naive fool who so blindly trusted that good things would happen to good people. So I began writing like my life depended on it and with every sentence Human Anatomy labs and Stats class looked like ants from the mountain of emotions I was climbing. I began to disdain the professors and the work and the labs and the students and the TAs and the textbooks and the lecture halls. But at the same time the confession to my family and friends that I didn’t want the profession I said I did was eating away at my soul. FAILURE was the word of the year, and indecisive seemed like the theme too. How could I admit that I was hating my major and that I didn’t know where I would go after graduation??
I kept it moving though. With muffled cries I kept pushing through because those who fall and stay down get walked on. I continued to carve my niche, I stayed in my notebook and wrote and wrote and wrote. Eventually I had to make the decision. I almost dropped the whole charade all together. I almost gave up on my program and entertained the possibility of switching majors, in my FIFTH YEAR!
Start all over? In ANOTHER program? Really? Fack. I had come this far so I agreed to finish it. As much as I resented my major for betraying me (or so I thought) I completed my degree. In August 2008 I was finally done.
No. Thirty Three.
I smiled at how things seemed to be coming full circle. It made more sense to me at that moment that I had had in a long time. I didn’t cry though like I said I would. There was no need to. The humbled feeling in my heart was enough.
Thank you for believing.
Peace.
