This is my attempt to tame the chaos of finding my purpose in life. I was supposed to start this blog when Teach For America hired me, but alas, two days ago I received my rejection letter. I cried for a solid 10 minutes, and then decided that it was just one more closed door on the way to finding what I really do need to be doing. I know that's not a very eloquent way of saying I'm ready for good things to start happening, but boy....am I.
I suppose I should start by listing all the good things that have happened in my life, but it's really the bad that have brought me to the point of blogging. I graduated from college in '07 with a degree in theatre, an emphasis in stage combat, and a minor in ASL. I spent the next two years of my life doing nothing of importance or advancement, and ended up deciding to go back to school to get a second degree, this time in ASL Interpreter Training. I mean, why not? I had been interpreting for my church for nearly four years- I loved the Deaf community, I loved ASL, I needed a career. What better to do than become a professional interpreter? After two full semesters of prep courses, and a good four months of applying and interviewing, I was turned down. Of the 56 people originally applying to the program, only 19 were chosen. I was not one of those. After crying for perhaps a solid 2 weeks, eating a tremendously dangerous amount of calories, and sleeping more hours than Rip Van Winkle achieved in his entire life, I came to the conclusion that God clearly had something different in store for me. I was fluent in ASL, an already-experienced and definitely skilled interpreter, I had one of the highest GPAs of all applicants, and I made some of the highest grades on all projects, tests, and assignments. There was no way anyone in their right mind would have put me on the not-right-for-interpreting list. But because the staff in this program did, clearly God had something else for me. I could not have done anything else right. So- upwards and onwards.
I spent the summer house/dog sitting for several professors at my alma mater, and working 3 weeks as a special teamer at a Christian youth camp in North Carolina. I met some really incredible people there, some of which I had known from college, and some of which I still, 7 months later, talk to almost daily. It was a time of healing and renewal in my life, and I used it as a time to wipe the slate clean. There was a huge horizon in front of me! Anything was possible! I could go get my masters and become a high school English/Theatre teacher, I could go to seminary and major in Girls' Ministry...I could do anything. After much thought and prayer, I went back to school once more, wanting to get a few classes under my belt before I applied for the MAT in English/Theatre Education. During that semester, I was introduced to, and began my journey through, the application process for Teach For America, a really incredible program that sends non-education majors into a low-income area for 2 years to teach one of the four main subjects: English, Math, Science, and Social Studies. They are super picky and it's a huge accomplishment even to be invited to an interview. Last year alone, 46,000 people applied and they only hired just over 4500. It was a big deal. After I turned my application in, I was passed on immediately to the Final Interview stage; it was a big deal. I put in tons of time and effort working on the last few requirements before the interview, on the lesson I had to teach during my interview, and on learning information that might be necessary for the interview in general. On top of this, I was taking 6 classes, 5 of which were over the 400 level, working 25-35 hours a week at Red Lobster, choreographing for my dance company, rehearsing 17 hours a week, interpreting at my church STILL, and attempting to make a broken engagement work out. It was exhausting, emotionally and physically.
Further, I missed a Praxis deadline for the masters program I was applying for. Those tests are EXPENSIVE, and if you can't afford it, sucks to be you. What did that mean? I had to take a semester off of school, and re-apply for the program that would begin in May.
Now, you must know that throughout all of these ordeals this past year, I also moved 3 times, none of which were a welcome idea. I simply have terrible relationships with apartments. The first move happened because I was living with a family from my church and my intense schedule just wasn't working out for their family life. No one was at fault, it was simply the nature of their being a family, and my being a 20-something college student with an overloaded schedule. The second move happened when I had to take a semester off of school. I was living on campus in family housing, a really sweet, perfectly-priced one bedroom apartment with awesome parking. When I missed the Praxis deadline, which stopped me from entering the program beginning in January, I had to take a semester off, meaning I would no longer be a full-time student, and consequently no longer be eligible for family housing. Move #2: I moved in with two of my besties and their roommate, under the offer that this would be a semester I could use to pay some bills and save some money. I had to move between Christmas and New Years (Happy Holidays), and because we lived in a college town, everyone was gone for the holiday season. Meaning I moved 90% of my belongings by myself, in 30* weather, over Christmas. When the roomies came home, within a week, the problems the three of them had with each other found a catalyst for implosion and I found myself moving once more. The three of them are also currently in the process of moving.
Now I am living with a good friend and coworker, in a house owned by her dad but rented by us, and it's absolutely perfect. She is an incredible roommate, the house is just fantastic, and it's right in the middle of town, but in a court where we don't have a lot of pass-through traffic. When I received my TFA letter (of rejection, of course), while my heart WAS broken for 10 seconds, I realized quickly that, once again, God has something else clearly in mind for me, but not to fret: I have an awesome roomie, a permanent place to live for as long as I need, and infinite possibilities once more.
I really don't know what I'm going to do with my life...I still want to pursue theatre as a career, maybe on stage, maybe in film, but I need to find a decent job with which I can support myself if ever I have the ability to move to a place that can sustain life on acting alone. Is this a sign I should go to seminary? Should I just re-apply to the MAT and get my masters in teaching? Should I go get a masters in counseling and help people work out their problems? Maybe become a child-life specialist specializing in teens, and find ways to make terminal illness manageable? Maybe I should just stick with yoga and become a yoga therapist/massage therapist and just makes people's lives awesome. So many decisions, so many options. I just...I am just ready to know what I should do. I'm ready to be on that path.
This has been probably the most difficult year of my life, but I've learned a lot, too. I've learned how strong I really am, and how independent I can be. I've learned I can handle a WHOLE lot, even when I think I can't take another step. You know, I used to say that I was ready for good things to start happening to me. But I think I was wrong in thinking that way. We serve a great God, and He has a plan to prosper us, and not to harm us. And ALL things work for the good of those who love Him. I'm not ready for good things to start happening to me...I'm ready to make good things happen for myself.
