Yesterday, I applied to a University. I’ve been messing around with the Community College, which is what I did way back in the day, and a friend suggested I just skip that and go right to the source. It was oddly validating. Until now, I suppose I didn’t feel worthy of a University- I mean, I dropped out of community college 17 years ago, and I never finished art school. I was a slacker and a drop-out. And I self-identified as such. And I fear had I gone back to a CC, I would have continued to self-identify in a less-than promising way. Applying to University takes some hubris and self-esteem, which I didn’t realize until I did it. I am worth a University. I am. And it feels good.
I’m working on a FAFSA application right now, and trying to draw in my transcripts from the four winds. It’s been so long I don’t know if anything will even be useful, but a-gathering I will go. The University also has allowances for life-experience credits for women in my situation- which means I might be able to get credits just for what it took to get here. That’s a great unknown right now, but again, it gives me hope. Fragile, tentative hope, but hope nonetheless.
I am going to do this. I haven’t been so excited about something in a long time. I love school, I love being in school, I love the academic environment, and I love learning. The idea that I might, at this late start, qualify for the University is a huge feather in my cap. I want my kids to see their mom work hard for something, to study and to succeed. I want them to see that I love my life, and value education. I want them to know I am brave, and that they can be too.
I am filled with hope today.