After writing an email of restitution to one of my dance coaches this morning with tears in my eyes, I realized in its entirety why I unconditionally love writing matter which is of serious nature.
I love words. I feel that I do not have the largest or more impressive vocabulary, but words for me are magical, and I often day-dream about making a new word (which is entirely possible for anyone to do, since English is a living language, ie. it changes).
I was working as a bartender from November up until this month. I endured some mistreatments, as any one in the service industry inevitably does. But the one that has stayed with me the longest, was when one of my patrons asked me how far I got in my education. I told him I earned my degree in English. He said, "Oh yes, you speak great English". For anyone who doesn't know me, my lineage is English, and it shows - sans the accent - so sometimes it feels like, "Oh yes. the girl who speaks English who decided to study it as well..."
I said thank-you, because I thought he was complimenting my eloquent and proper speech. And you know, maybe he was, but a few moments after his comment, I thought, "Hey, wait a minute...!"
I said then, "Well, yes I am quite good at it. I had my work chosen by my teachers and published in school papers, and I won contests, and I was chosen to read my pieces in poetry festivals." I still don't know if he was genuine, or giving me a back-handed compliment, but my gut tells me it was the latter.
Fast forward a couple of months. Last night I was at an awesome dessert shop. A couple, who looked like they were on a first date sat beside my table (after a hundred first dates I can spot them out like bees to flowers). I could overhear them talking as my boyfriend and I silently shovelled delectable waffles and crêpes into our faces. They were talking about a girl and her degree. The guy asked what the degree was in, and she said bio-chemistry. He replied, "Wow! So she's actually smart".
I felt ashamed, as my boyfriend most likely over-heard that comment as well. I am well aware of what people think of English degrees. I am also aware that I belittle myself, and for the most part do not take pride in my accomplishments, even though I almost didn't graduate at all after a psychiatric melt-down in my third year.
But after writing my apology with my fearless explanation for my transgression, essentially saying I could not carry on with her, I realized as I scanned my sentences over and over, fine-tuning, finding the most accurate and honest word, bleeding into my email, that I am a great writer, and I do love and am proud of my degree. It is not a joke, and I am smart. People like the men who have put me or others like me down for allegedly taking a free-ride through higher education are just ignorant and/or jealous!
I spent a year going to the campus community centre and getting tutored in the evening, just trying to appease my professors, all who wanted their own egotistical specific writing style, breaking my back trying to get right what I thought, but now know I have a natural talent for. I got nearly perfect in syntax lessons, and I proof-read anyone and everyone's papers in my residence. And even though I skipped out on a lot of my novels, took short cuts, and crammed, which I still feel guilty for, I still worked hard, and when I did, I loved it, and I produced great essays.
When I was 19 one of my professors asked me, "Is this what you really want to say?" Then and there the way I wrote changed forever. Even when I am just posting in my religion groups, or writing a little note on my profile, I ask myself, "Is this what I am really trying to say?" The way we communicate is without credit in our words, and whenever I am at my computer my dictionary browser is up and used on an average of10 times a day, mostly for synonyms. I've used dictionary.com at least 10 times for this blog alone.
Words are the root of civilization, and maybe all this guilt that I have carried all these years is just a message for me to start making some paper off my ability to write on it. Pun intended :)
I love words. I feel that I do not have the largest or more impressive vocabulary, but words for me are magical, and I often day-dream about making a new word (which is entirely possible for anyone to do, since English is a living language, ie. it changes).
I was working as a bartender from November up until this month. I endured some mistreatments, as any one in the service industry inevitably does. But the one that has stayed with me the longest, was when one of my patrons asked me how far I got in my education. I told him I earned my degree in English. He said, "Oh yes, you speak great English". For anyone who doesn't know me, my lineage is English, and it shows - sans the accent - so sometimes it feels like, "Oh yes. the girl who speaks English who decided to study it as well..."
I said thank-you, because I thought he was complimenting my eloquent and proper speech. And you know, maybe he was, but a few moments after his comment, I thought, "Hey, wait a minute...!"
I said then, "Well, yes I am quite good at it. I had my work chosen by my teachers and published in school papers, and I won contests, and I was chosen to read my pieces in poetry festivals." I still don't know if he was genuine, or giving me a back-handed compliment, but my gut tells me it was the latter.
Fast forward a couple of months. Last night I was at an awesome dessert shop. A couple, who looked like they were on a first date sat beside my table (after a hundred first dates I can spot them out like bees to flowers). I could overhear them talking as my boyfriend and I silently shovelled delectable waffles and crêpes into our faces. They were talking about a girl and her degree. The guy asked what the degree was in, and she said bio-chemistry. He replied, "Wow! So she's actually smart".
I felt ashamed, as my boyfriend most likely over-heard that comment as well. I am well aware of what people think of English degrees. I am also aware that I belittle myself, and for the most part do not take pride in my accomplishments, even though I almost didn't graduate at all after a psychiatric melt-down in my third year.
But after writing my apology with my fearless explanation for my transgression, essentially saying I could not carry on with her, I realized as I scanned my sentences over and over, fine-tuning, finding the most accurate and honest word, bleeding into my email, that I am a great writer, and I do love and am proud of my degree. It is not a joke, and I am smart. People like the men who have put me or others like me down for allegedly taking a free-ride through higher education are just ignorant and/or jealous!
I spent a year going to the campus community centre and getting tutored in the evening, just trying to appease my professors, all who wanted their own egotistical specific writing style, breaking my back trying to get right what I thought, but now know I have a natural talent for. I got nearly perfect in syntax lessons, and I proof-read anyone and everyone's papers in my residence. And even though I skipped out on a lot of my novels, took short cuts, and crammed, which I still feel guilty for, I still worked hard, and when I did, I loved it, and I produced great essays.
When I was 19 one of my professors asked me, "Is this what you really want to say?" Then and there the way I wrote changed forever. Even when I am just posting in my religion groups, or writing a little note on my profile, I ask myself, "Is this what I am really trying to say?" The way we communicate is without credit in our words, and whenever I am at my computer my dictionary browser is up and used on an average of10 times a day, mostly for synonyms. I've used dictionary.com at least 10 times for this blog alone.
Words are the root of civilization, and maybe all this guilt that I have carried all these years is just a message for me to start making some paper off my ability to write on it. Pun intended :)
"They were talking about a girl and her degree. The guy asked what the degree was in, and she said bio-chemistry. He replied, "Wow! So she's actually smart"."
ReplyDeleteWhich is more than can be said for him if he thinks that no other degree requires intelligence.
Arts subjects do require intelligence, despite what the general public seems to have decided. It seems to have become accepted that an arts degree ought to be spoken about with a blush, or a shrug of the shoulder, if it's even spoken of at all. And if you dare to hold your head up and say "I am proud of my degree, it's valuable, I'm valuable", you'll be met with that awful pitying look usually reserved for the deluded.
Well, I'm a proud graduate of English and I'm not deluded. Does my degree mean I can change the world? No, it doesn't. Has my degree led me to a powerful, millions-every-year job? No, it hasn't. And I never aspired to either of those things. I simply love English. I hoped that my degree would open up doors when it came to graduate jobs but ultimately, I went to university to study what I love. And I will not be patronised or accused of being a freeloader because of that. I use my degree every single day.
Thanks for your reply! It's nice to hear I'm not alone in my feelings.
DeleteI'm wanting to go back to school for a Masters. My first thought is to build on my degree, but there does seem to be less opportunity for Arts degrees. Being a professor would be great, but it must be very competitive, and I am not sure what else I could do.