I'm not exactly sure where I lost my drive. Maybe it was the 12 days I spent in the hospital this March, making it a total of 33 days in the past 14 months...not counting ER visits. Maybe, it was hearing about the Chicago Sun Times and Chicago Tribune declaring bankruptcy while the New York Times Co. was seriously considering closing the Boston Globe.
It could have been when I was talking to Ryan about our future and realizing that if I stayed in journalism, our life together, and his career may be put on hold - because of me. Though, in all reality, the moment that really sticks out in my mind is when I was forcing Ryan to look through my old pictures of the preschool class I taught and realizing that memories of a job had never resulted in such an uncontrollable smile.
Here's my scenario - I'm 21 years old, due to health issues and lack of drive I'm still a first semester junior...maybe. I've found the person I want to spend the rest of my life with. I'm over writing pointless papers, filling out scan-tron sheets and getting drunken text messages at 2 a.m. I want to move on. I want, as many cliche loving college students do, to see the world. I want to settle down, get a job and continue with my life. My problem - I have no idea what I want my life to be.
Here's what I do know - I'm a good news writer when I want to be. Conducting interviews with former war heroes, reigning beauty queens and redneck comedians bring my brain close to the point of spontaneous combustion because of the amount of questions that immediately come to it. If you interview a person correctly, you can learn more about them in 20 minutes then many can learn about them in a lifetime. It's not just about getting the story, it's about getting to the very pit of their emotions, asking the questions that don't have an immediate answer and giving yourself chills because you know you got a quote that will make people shiver.
On the opposite side of the spectrum, I know that I love children. One of the most rewarding experiences I've ever had was seeing a totally out of control child do a complete 180 under my care. I've never had greater joy in a job than the day I woke up crying, drove to work trying my hardest to keep my mascara from smearing, took deep breaths as I walked into the building and started beaming the second eight three year olds came running to the door nearly knocking me down with their embraces.
I never thought that sitting in front of 14 squirming toddlers singing out of pitch would give me such a heart warming, cliche "fuzzy feeling". Seeing the sheer joy on their faces when I sang a new song, read a new book or taught them that "caliente" is the Spanish word for "hot" made me beam with pride. Even more rewarding was when a parent told me at pick-up time that their child was asking for me while at home, or that they were singing "Mr. Sun" and doing the motions I taught them because "Miss Kelly sings this with us at school to make the sun come out."
I think my biggest stress is knowing that journalism makes my brain almost combust with thought, while teaching does the same for my heart - and I don't know which is more important.
If I go with my brain, I know that it will continually be stretched as I put the fascinating stories of people, places and things into written words. The questions I ask and the articles I write will be seen by people from a town, a city or if I'm lucky, the nation. The experiences, will, in a way become my own because of the detail I pull out of the one I am interviewing. By continuing in journalism, I have the potential opportunity to climb everest, win an election or become an A-list actress, not through literal experiences, but through listening to the individual's story so intently that I can picture every moment. The part I can't get over, is that by making it my own, I can give that gift to my readers as well.
Then, there's my heart. I've heard all my life that the heart is the organ to go with. If someone loses all brain function, scientifically they are still alive. But, if someone's heart stops, there's no going back. While teaching, I know that I can touch the lives of preschoolers, if only for a couple months. I know that with children that young, they won't remember me for long once they leave. I actually know this from experience - about four months after I left for Ball State I went back to visit my former class, and only a few of them remembered who I was. Honestly, I was surprised that even that many remembered me. But, I know for six months, those kids loved me. They were excited to see me every day, they loved hearing my stories, singing the songs I taught them and playing "beauty parlor" while waiting for their parents to pick them up.
I know that when the parents asked me to babysit, the kids would be ecstatic to see me, encouraging their parents to leave so they could spend more time with "Ms. Kelly." Parents would tell me how much their kids talked about me, how excited they were about what they learned, and how much they appreciated the time I spent with them. Those are things that I cherish, and I don't think it would ever get old.
As summer approaches, I'm realizing that I have to make a decision. I can't go another semester not knowing what I want to do with my life. Who knows? Maybe I'll just drop out and open a little diner. Or maybe I'll just be in school forever. Regardless, I know that God has a plan for me and that sooner or later I'll know what it is. Until then, I will continue to write blogs and spending too much time looking at facebook and perezhilton...
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