Semester's end is in sight! It's a bittersweet victory. I'm looking forward to some free time, but it also feels like I have just gotten into a comfortable routine with this semester's schedule, and now it's all going to be switched up! Such is the nature of student life.
I am in the process of writing a reflection paper about aging, which is the online assignment for class today, in lieu of actual class. I've never been afraid of getting old-- it's the stuff in between that's intimidating. But all these class materials and discussions about Alzheimer's Disease have made getting old scarier than it was before.
I'm also watching The Golden Girls. Seems appropriate, yes?
Although I'm feeling rather lackadaisical today, having nowhere to go until I leave for my mom's around four, I feel as if I should take the opportunity to say that I am really and truly thankful for all the opportunities this year has brought me: grad school, new job (that actually has something to do with my field), new friends, and new apartment. I could have done without the chicken pox, but overall, 2010 has been pretty good to me.
Wednesday, November 24, 2010
Monday, November 15, 2010
Extended Study Blues
Confession time: I am not a full-time grad student.
This fact makes me feel inferior every day.
Technically, the three-year-plan isn't called part time, because the third year is full time hours. It's called extended study. And that's where I ended up after I was unable to get funding from the school. In some graduate programs, every student has an assistantship, and all you have to do to get one is be accepted into the program. Social Work is not one of those programs.
I think I applied for a total of fourteen assistantships and scholarships, and I got one catch-all letter from the university that said NOPE. And loans were not an option for the first semester, because I was too many payments behind on my undergraduate loans. I could have waited until those were paid off before starting grad school, but I had waited long enough. In my mind, applying to grad school had long passed the point of hemming and hawing and reached the point of do or die.
So. I signed up for the two classes to be extended study, kept both part-time jobs, and went on, worrying every step of the way that being extended study wasn't being a real grad student.
On orientation day I was quite relieved to see that about half of the people in the room were extended study. But what I didn't know at the time was that most extended study folk are that because they have real full-time jobs that they want to keep, unlike me with my two part-time jobs with odd hours. And shortly after classes began, I realized that I was the lone extended study student in both classrooms. I guess most extended study folk take night classes.
Perhaps it seems odd to be sad about having less work to do than my classmates. But I often feel just plain left out, with no field placement or research to speak of. I just keep quiet during those conversations.
I had originally thought that I would be able to go from extended study to full time later down the road, but after many emails sent to the associate dean, I finally got a meeting, which got me nothing but blank stares. Classes have to be taken in a very specific order, and it can't be switched up very easily. I thought the faculty would have dealt with my situation before, and would have a concrete plan for it, but they had only blank stares for me. And the repeated refrain of "you won't be able to graduate any earlier than May 2013." Which was never my concern to begin with. What I want is to simply take more classes. This is apparently a completely unheard of desire.
In conversation with the associate dean or social work admin or whatever she is, she made reference to "the extended study sections" of classes. Wait, hold up-- there were specific sections I was supposed to sign up for? Is that why I'm the odd one out? "Well, we generally assume that extended study students will take night classes, but yes, sometimes full-time students sign up for them." Actually, I'm the freak because I signed up for day classes, but thanks for driving that home even deeper.
I shall have "FREAK" stamped on my head at the nearest opportunity. But I'm also taking one extra class next semester. Since the faculty couldn't help me, I just went for it. And I am getting loans for next semester, that are actually covering the cost of the whole year, so my money problems will be soothed until they kick in again in 2013.
At least I have a whole two and a half years before I have to worry about how to use my M.S.S.W., right?
This fact makes me feel inferior every day.
Technically, the three-year-plan isn't called part time, because the third year is full time hours. It's called extended study. And that's where I ended up after I was unable to get funding from the school. In some graduate programs, every student has an assistantship, and all you have to do to get one is be accepted into the program. Social Work is not one of those programs.
I think I applied for a total of fourteen assistantships and scholarships, and I got one catch-all letter from the university that said NOPE. And loans were not an option for the first semester, because I was too many payments behind on my undergraduate loans. I could have waited until those were paid off before starting grad school, but I had waited long enough. In my mind, applying to grad school had long passed the point of hemming and hawing and reached the point of do or die.
So. I signed up for the two classes to be extended study, kept both part-time jobs, and went on, worrying every step of the way that being extended study wasn't being a real grad student.
On orientation day I was quite relieved to see that about half of the people in the room were extended study. But what I didn't know at the time was that most extended study folk are that because they have real full-time jobs that they want to keep, unlike me with my two part-time jobs with odd hours. And shortly after classes began, I realized that I was the lone extended study student in both classrooms. I guess most extended study folk take night classes.
Perhaps it seems odd to be sad about having less work to do than my classmates. But I often feel just plain left out, with no field placement or research to speak of. I just keep quiet during those conversations.
I had originally thought that I would be able to go from extended study to full time later down the road, but after many emails sent to the associate dean, I finally got a meeting, which got me nothing but blank stares. Classes have to be taken in a very specific order, and it can't be switched up very easily. I thought the faculty would have dealt with my situation before, and would have a concrete plan for it, but they had only blank stares for me. And the repeated refrain of "you won't be able to graduate any earlier than May 2013." Which was never my concern to begin with. What I want is to simply take more classes. This is apparently a completely unheard of desire.
In conversation with the associate dean or social work admin or whatever she is, she made reference to "the extended study sections" of classes. Wait, hold up-- there were specific sections I was supposed to sign up for? Is that why I'm the odd one out? "Well, we generally assume that extended study students will take night classes, but yes, sometimes full-time students sign up for them." Actually, I'm the freak because I signed up for day classes, but thanks for driving that home even deeper.
I shall have "FREAK" stamped on my head at the nearest opportunity. But I'm also taking one extra class next semester. Since the faculty couldn't help me, I just went for it. And I am getting loans for next semester, that are actually covering the cost of the whole year, so my money problems will be soothed until they kick in again in 2013.
At least I have a whole two and a half years before I have to worry about how to use my M.S.S.W., right?
Saturday, November 13, 2010
How did we get here?
How did we get here? How the hell? Pan left, close on the steeple of the church... how did I get here? How the hell? --RENT
I remember it like it was yesterday... except I couldn't tell you what day it actually was. But I remember where I was standing. I was working at a pre-school at the time, in the three-year-olds classroom. I was standing at the point where carpet meets tile, also known as the NO CRUMBS SHALL PASS barrier. I was facing the sink. I don't recall what small encounter with a child brought the thought to mind, but I remember thinking, "I wish I were a child psychologist." And then I thought, "why don't I do that?"
Let me back up. It is my blog, after all.
My Bachelor's Degree is in Creative Writing with a minor in Women's Studies. Do you know what one does with such a degree? I don't either. I was under the mistaken impression that getting the degree in hand was the important part, and the specialization would come later. After college, I spent two months unemployed and living in the crappiest apartment in the most wonderful city before getting a job at a call center. After another two months, well, let's see. Back to unemployed and living with my mom. Also, my dad died around that time.
Three more months. Moved to Kville. Waitressing-- bad idea on my part. People who like people should not work where you have to take orders from hungry people, and vegetarians should not work where you have to recommend food that you would never eat.
Finally, pre-school, and that's where the story really began. I loved those three-year-olds. There are no words for how much I loved them. But there was one thing I hated, and that was lesson plans. Yes, you do have to create lesson plans for three-year-olds, and you have to jump through more hoops than Barnum and Bailey's poodles ever dreamed of. Let me tell you, it is a pain in the butt.
I worked there for a grand total of fifteen months. For at least the first twelve, I said to myself, over and over, "I love working with kids but I hate teaching. I hate lesson plans. What can I do? What can I do?"
And then it hit me, that day on the NO CRUMBS SHALL PASS barrier, near the art shelf.
Except that the story doesn't end there. Do a google search for Child Psychology programs sometime. You'll end up where I did: "But I don't want to work in the school system!" "But I don't want to do research!" "But I don't want statistics to rule my life!" and most of all, "I don't want to move to Minnesota! It's cold there!"
So the alternative routes were explored. Community college classes were taken. Mentors were consulted. Mentors were created because who has mentors for this type of thing? Not Creative Writing majors. Finally, I applied to grad school... in Child and Family Studies.
I didn't get in. The GRE was not friendly.
A year went by. I got married. I thought I would apply to grad school again for 09-10. I didn't. Did you know it's overwhelming to get married?
Not to mention, this was three jobs removed from the first preschool. Eventually, after a complete and total meltdown, I applied to two Tennessee schools for a M.S.S.W. program.
And now I sit before you, working on a paper about child welfare. Kind of brings you full circle, doesn't it?
No, it doesn't. Not unless circles spiral around on themselves and veer off in different directions. But it does bring you to what full circle might look like if I tried to draw it on an Etch-a-Sketch.
I remember it like it was yesterday... except I couldn't tell you what day it actually was. But I remember where I was standing. I was working at a pre-school at the time, in the three-year-olds classroom. I was standing at the point where carpet meets tile, also known as the NO CRUMBS SHALL PASS barrier. I was facing the sink. I don't recall what small encounter with a child brought the thought to mind, but I remember thinking, "I wish I were a child psychologist." And then I thought, "why don't I do that?"
Let me back up. It is my blog, after all.
My Bachelor's Degree is in Creative Writing with a minor in Women's Studies. Do you know what one does with such a degree? I don't either. I was under the mistaken impression that getting the degree in hand was the important part, and the specialization would come later. After college, I spent two months unemployed and living in the crappiest apartment in the most wonderful city before getting a job at a call center. After another two months, well, let's see. Back to unemployed and living with my mom. Also, my dad died around that time.
Three more months. Moved to Kville. Waitressing-- bad idea on my part. People who like people should not work where you have to take orders from hungry people, and vegetarians should not work where you have to recommend food that you would never eat.
Finally, pre-school, and that's where the story really began. I loved those three-year-olds. There are no words for how much I loved them. But there was one thing I hated, and that was lesson plans. Yes, you do have to create lesson plans for three-year-olds, and you have to jump through more hoops than Barnum and Bailey's poodles ever dreamed of. Let me tell you, it is a pain in the butt.
I worked there for a grand total of fifteen months. For at least the first twelve, I said to myself, over and over, "I love working with kids but I hate teaching. I hate lesson plans. What can I do? What can I do?"
And then it hit me, that day on the NO CRUMBS SHALL PASS barrier, near the art shelf.
Except that the story doesn't end there. Do a google search for Child Psychology programs sometime. You'll end up where I did: "But I don't want to work in the school system!" "But I don't want to do research!" "But I don't want statistics to rule my life!" and most of all, "I don't want to move to Minnesota! It's cold there!"
So the alternative routes were explored. Community college classes were taken. Mentors were consulted. Mentors were created because who has mentors for this type of thing? Not Creative Writing majors. Finally, I applied to grad school... in Child and Family Studies.
I didn't get in. The GRE was not friendly.
A year went by. I got married. I thought I would apply to grad school again for 09-10. I didn't. Did you know it's overwhelming to get married?
Not to mention, this was three jobs removed from the first preschool. Eventually, after a complete and total meltdown, I applied to two Tennessee schools for a M.S.S.W. program.
And now I sit before you, working on a paper about child welfare. Kind of brings you full circle, doesn't it?
No, it doesn't. Not unless circles spiral around on themselves and veer off in different directions. But it does bring you to what full circle might look like if I tried to draw it on an Etch-a-Sketch.
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