The Death of Me (Or At Least a Really Important Part of Me)
It’s been five weeks, and the craziness that was the official last five weeks of my undergraduate career are over. You read that right folks… the LAST WEEKS OF MY UNDERGRADUATE CAREER! Provided everything goes as schedule, that diploma is as good as mine!
And with that said, a lot has been going through my mind the past few weeks. A few days ago, Tatang (3/21/05) had wrote about personal growth and how it requires the metaphysical “death” of the current self in order for the new self to be “reborn.” In many ways, the past few weeks have been about preparing for my “death” as a college student, in order to make way for my “rebirth” as a college graduate.
For the longest time I’d been in denial about the whole graduation thing. Not intellectually, I mean. After all, I’d been throwing around my “almost graduate” status since the beginning of Summer. But emotionally, I never really confronted what this whole graduation thing really meant. I never really felt the urgency to think about it. My life was pretty much the same old routine more or less: wake up, take the bus, class, some meetings here for Samahang, LCC rehearsal, food somewhere in between, etc. But it wasn’t until around 6th week when things really started to hit me that things weren’t going to be the same… and really quickly.
That weekend I was in Delano on a field trip about the Manongs, the generation of Pilipinos who immigrated in the 20’s and 30’s to work in the farms and canneries along the West Coast, Alaska, and Hawaii. One of the main planners of the trip was Mark Pulido, a UCLA alum from the early 90’s and a former Samahang President and undergrad student body president.
Having been so invested in the org so long, he was naturally intrigued about the future plans of the current Samahang President. I told Mark that I was planning to officially complete my degree by the end of Winter Quarter, although I was definitely going to stay Spring Quarter to finish off some things with Samahang and LCC. As a strong proponent of student voice, Mark was concerned about the idea of a non-student continuing to serve as a president of a student org. And thus the emotional alarm clock went off.
Before that talk, I was still in the mindset that I would still be a student in the Spring. True, I wasn’t enrolled in classes, but I was still:
- going to physically be at UCLA
- taking classes (without that grading crap getting in the way of learning),
- maintaining the same relationships I’ve had on campus,
- continuing my work with student groups, and
- not working.
To make a long story short, the last five weeks of the quarter have been this weird amalgam of getting my academic graduation affairs in order, weekend retreats, and preparing Samahang for the Spring Quarter “without” me. Emotionally, it’s been… confusing. Maybe that’s why the past few weeks have felt so weird; I felt so many things, I really didn’t know how to feel. I was elated to be graduating, exhausted from the busy weekends, upset about having to resign the Samahang Presidency, scared about how Samahang Board would respond, looking forward to the free time I’ll spend writing, and finally relieved to be at home, and putting all those midterms, finals, and papers behind me. Maybe things weren’t so dramatic as that, but boring and dull things aren’t fun to read.
So now I sit comfortably in my Dad’s chair in the family room of the house I was raised, comfortably typing on my laptop with a meal of salmon, rice, and a glass of orange juice to my left. If it sounds like I’m at a resort, it’s because I am on vacation, and it feels great! Seriously, I haven’t taken a vacation in a really long time. Mind you, I had a few breaks from school, and traveled to some cool places, but vacation is not about where you are or just being away from your day job. Vacation is a state of mind, and before this week, I can’t remember the last time I was on vacation.
But maybe it’s more than that. The past few days I’ve been catching up with family and friends. Some were engaged, others were having children, and some were thinking about a new future in a new city. And I told them about my future, about my dreams of teaching and making a good Pilipino American film, how I didn’t know how I was going to get there, and how I had faith that good people would get me through. And with every conversation, and the repetition about my uncertainty and faith about the future, a sense of freedom was building inside me.
You see, I never told these people my dreams before. It’s not that I was keeping them secret, it’s just that conversations never really got that far. When folks asked me about what I was up to, it was always “well I’m still studying at [insert school here], and I graduate in [insert date here].” My life ran on tracks that were 3, 4, 5 years long and the road was clear. But now I’m off the tracks, and all that’s left are my dreams. In one sense, it’s friggin’ scary not knowing the path, but being around family, knowing that I’ll have shelter and food and love, it’s comforting and exciting.
Maybe I’ll change my tune in 6 weeks, but for now, I’m enjoying the “afterlife.” And here’s to those who’ll be joining me soon enough.