Fridays are my most magic day of the week. Almost every good thing that has happened to me has been on a Friday (except Harry was born on a Tuesday, which is my second favourite day). New jobs, parties, love, life, homecomings and last days.
Today I talked to my Masters supervisor about doing a PhD and she was very upbeat and honest about the process. We were sitting at the hub at college, which used to be called the refectory. When I started my degree my friends and I would sit at one of the tables facing the courtyard and study furiously each Friday. Papers were almost always due in hard copy on Fridays. It was one of the happiest times of my life and I didn’t even appreciate it. The next year we drifted, people left, it got weird, but that first year was amazing.
If I could go back and give advice to my Year 12 self, I would tell her not to wear blue eye shadow and not to take bad advice about further study.
When making choices about uni courses we were always told to consider what we liked, and what we did in our free time. So, here is what I thought:
- mmm. I volunteer for a radio station. Maybe I should do a degree in media. (this was preference 3.)
- mmm. In Year 8 I decided to be an English/Drama teacher. Maybe I’ll do a teaching degree. (this was preference 1, and a different teaching course was preference 2.)
- mmm. I like the idea of being a journalist. They write things and I like to write things. (preference 4.)
- ummm… well, I love photography. So I’ll put down I’d do a visual arts course and transfer to teaching second year. (preference 5.)
I got into preference 5, and no one was too pleased with me, except me because I could tell people that I got into uni!
This was all bad advice. I would be a terrible journo. (My brother was always suited for this job, and that’s what he does now.) I hated drama! I didn’t even really like radio announcing much by Year 12 because I only played Christian music, and to go o the other community station would feel like treason.
There was a dream I had, and that was to go and do a course at Tabor called Year In The Son which no longer exists. And, a year later, that is exactly what I did. While I was doing YITS I worked in a school and fell in love with the idea of teaching. I had chosen a college which used interview based admissions (I was on academic probation for my first year because my TER was 69.9), so eventually I did get into my teaching degree. For a lot of good reasons I am a good teacher. I am positive, hilarious, love reading and writing, I’m sometimes a bit of a performer, I do pep talks and I’m empathetic. There are many reasons why I struggle with working in an educational setting: I can be disorganized, I avoid conflict, I like to leave work right on 4pm and I really don’t like doing Maths.
Teaching found me.
Once I was teaching though, I missed writing, and I went back and studied post grad. I’m at the pointy end of my Masters now, and seeing as I need to put bread on the table, I will have to go back to work eventually.
Anyway. Back to Fridays.
I wish I had enjoyed the journey more. I am always worrying about the next thing, but man, what I wouldn’t give for one more glorious day of undergrad life!
Sometimes I worry about not returning to the classroom. In Year Nine, one of our teachers said to us that we will have anywhere betweene 3 and 7 different careers in our working life. I’ve taken a lot of comfort in that. I’ve been a lot of things. Maybe there’s still room to chase more dreams.