This is
continued from part 2 which was yesterday, and that was a continuation of part1 from Friday.
Internship
At this
point I was half way thru year 6 of my degree program. Fail to finish an internship for the Planning
degree or one level three foreign language for the International Affairs degree
and it would all be for nothing. Since I
had no more courses to do otherwise I could no longer justify staying in
Tallahassee to finish that foreign language class while looking for an
internship. I headed home.
Again, I
must point out that my parents had been lending me a lot of support thru
this. I was twisting in the wind too
often and now I was heading home with 27/10ths of a degree, but only one of
them actually being whole.
For 6 months,
I was throwing out applications to every planning and “this could pass for
planning, I guess” position I could find in the state. I ended up with 3 interviews for 50
applications and no takers. I know that
my professor advisor was furrowing her brow at all this because I was a nervous
wreck, ticking clocks are not fun to listen to when they are in your own head.
I
ultimately only got noticed because my father works for the government of my
hometown, and he told me who’s trees to shake to get me noticed. I got an unpaid (and previously nonexistent)
position with the city’s neighborhood development department.
I think
they made out alright in the exchange.
While I did not have the practical knowledge of someone with years’
experience, they were really in need of staff (they continue to be 1-3 people
short of the sort of staffing they would prefer). I was a graduate level writer and researcher
and was able to tear thru several things while over there that otherwise might
have been pushed off to another year or just dropped as being beyond what they
could furnish.
My biggest
accomplishment was helping to compile and write an Economic Development chapter
to the city’s comprehensive plan. It was
apparently so well written that it was dubbed a “shadow government” by the
building/planning council. Being a
literal expert in politics and planning, and with the benefit of hindsight, I
can say conclusively they did not know what that term means.
Last Class
Internship
completed, I now only needed one class.
ONE CLASS. An Undergraduate class
at that. But I wasn’t moving back to FSU
to take that. I could not possibly
justify the expense of living in Tallahassee for one class and even if I could
justify that I wouldn’t be able to afford it, as taking only one class did not
qualify as a full-time student and thus no loans.
I decided I
would take the classes as a transfer student at the relatively nearby Florida
Gulf Coast University, my undergraduate alma mater. An hour long ride out to school and an hour
back twice a week to take a foreign language course. I hammered away at Duolingo and Rosetta Stone
software to prep myself, not the most formal of educations but I think it did a
lot to gear me back up.
TWIST, turns
out spending a year looking for and then doing an internship does not count as
being in class so I had to reapply to my programs at Florida State. I then had to get approval from my department
to take the class as a transient student, I then had to get approval from FGCU
to take the class, and I needed the professor to approve of such a thing.
Ultimately,
I did manage to jump all those hoops in time to make the class (though they did
charge me a penalty for being a late register).
What is funny is one of those steps involved a placement exam. Even though I had been taking enough French
in school to qualify for the class.
I had at
this point taken French 1 twice (once having failed to pass), then taking and
passing French 2, and was trying to get into French 3 after having already
failed to pass it. All of that and I had
been studying my old notes, and my old text book, and Duo Lingo, and Rosetta
Stone. I suck at foreign languages if
you haven’t guessed. I wish I had more
affinity for mathematics which apparently, that is all I have a true knack for.
At that
time, I could read a newspaper article in French, I know I could because I did
in order to study. I took a placement
exam and performed SO POORLY that I would have done better marking all answers
“C”. I did so bad that it said I was
unqualified to be in French 1. Luckily,
the Professor understood this was my only class and knew that I was on the hook
for a Master’s program and would be working hard on it. She let me file, kind of out of pity.
This is
also where I started entering a “Twilight Zone” of sorts. Going back to classes with people who were
more than 10 years younger than me was surreal.
Even though I look younger than I am (so long as I shave), I don’t sound
like a 20-year-old. And while I got
along with everyone in the class, I did not connect. I was distant the whole time in spite of my
efforts to talk to people about FSU and grad school should they consider it in
the future.
Ultimately,
I passed the class. Though I was so
stressed by the end that the Professor was legit concerned and assuring me that
I was doing fine.
Getting back in Shape
I had
during this time been slowly getting back down to the weight I wanted. After ballooning up to 270 at the height of being
a stressed out blob I had started walking more, and hitting the gym, but could
make any real progress, getting down to 260 but staying there for 6
months. The autumn before I went back to
French I recommitted to change that.
I bought a
Fitbit that was on sale for Black Friday (or Black Thanksgiving Evening now as
people could not wait for that sweet rush of buying things to fill the hole in
them caused by the hollow core that is Neo-Liberal-Capitalism) and began
walking daily thousands of steps and tracking my diet in order to lose weight.
I lost 10
pounds in 50 days and another 10 pounds in the 2 months following that. Since then I have only lost another 2-5, but
I am back in the 235-240 area and have been going to the gym in addition to
walking.
I know this
is not all that much to do with school and all but it is a big shift. Learning to get in shape and stay in shape is
something I never really mastered. I
worked in bursts my whole life, spurred on by random instances. This last 10 months of maintaining so much
regular activity is a major change to who I was.
Looking for Work
During
French and after I continued to look for work.
This time looking for permanent positions rather than having to
advertise my need to finish out degrees.
I applied to 40 or so, and got 3 interviews. Though much stronger interviews than in the
past. Needless to say, my perspective
had changed, I was losing weight instead of gaining, I had my degrees instead
of getting them, and I didn’t have to limit myself to certain types of work, I
could apply to any government position that fit my skill sets and pivot from
those positions as my needs and skills developed. My ability to sell my skills had been
augmented by having documented skills to sell.
It should
serve as a semi-poetic chapter to this blog that last Friday, the day that was
10 years after taking the GRE, I got my first job since finishing Graduate
school. There is of course the
background check (makes sense) and the physical (something I find perplexing
for an employer to ask for) and then I will slide in. Finally having a wall to hang my freshly
framed degrees on.
My city is
about to start its largest transformation ever, more development is expected in
the next two years than during any period than the housing bubble which led to
the great recession (this time it will be sustainable development and not a
catastrophe the world over… Fingers crossed).
I will get to do what I was training for in some of the most intense conditions
available for it.
Good thing
too. I have a lot of student debt to pay
off. Just like everyone else my age.
Epilogue
This should
go without saying but this little outline of my last decade is shallow. 4,000 words does not include all the details,
good and bad of my life over the last 10 years and there are some sections in
these blogs that could be books unto themselves (the Police section and my
Political Internship for my first Masters spring to mind immediately).
Maybe one
of these days I will write it all out for a book no one will buy called
something like, “A Millennial’s Perspective”.
I will have to do it about 10 years after my generation becomes the one
in charge, all of us wondering why all the younger generations keep killing off
arcane social conventions and businesses.
We’ll have
lost touch with the protracted war that caused so many of our classmates to
come back drained, the natural disasters that kept sinking cities, or the
economic implosion that nobody got in trouble for and no one learned anything
from.
Maybe the
next ten years will be better.
Maybe I’ll
be better.
I honestly think that instead of a nonfiction book you might want to try your hand at a novel. I think some of your experiences would serve as good inspiration for a creative work of realistic fiction.
ReplyDelete