Just a Guy Walking to His First Day of Classes (Do I Always Sound Like This When I Talk?)
After an 18 year hiatus from Marist College, now a University, and a 13 year hiatus from any formal educational pursuits whatsoever, I re-enter academia. I re-enter academia in maybe the most chaotic way I could have ever conceived of, which the people who know me well will say "totally tracks." I move 7 hours away from the place I've built a life for myself, Richmond, Virginia, to complete one final semester at the institution I attended from 17-20(ish) in Poughkeepsie, New York. That Marist 1.0 attempt culminated in me dropping out directly after my 21st birthday in December of 2007 in the midst of, what I believe the youth refer to as, an "epic crashout."
But, more importantly than all of that, I've made it back. And as I record this video, I have no idea what my writing process is, outside of screaming into the void of the internet via Instagram or Facebook. People often tell me I'm articulate, but who knows what that really even means, or why they're saying it to me.
Any writing I've done for well over a decade was either for myself, for the internet, or for my job. In absolutely zero of those circumstances did I consider why I was writing what I was writing, and the manner which I was writing, on anything other than a surface level. I only ever recall thinking "who is going to read this and how can I best convey my point to them?" before diving in.
It's a joke amongst my bosses, co-workers, and friend group, that I have no idea how to send a short communique. If there were no phone numbers attached to our communications, people would know it's me simply from the length alone. I only really edit things as I type them. I usually stop at random points and just go back to the beginning and read everything I wrote, making little corrections along the way. I do that until I get to the end, then I read it one last time and it's sent on its way to wherever it needs to go. I don't really engage with or think about these missives again after that. I've been doing this since Marist 1.0, as far as I remember, anyway.
My notes app on my phone is full of random one-off thoughts. I carried a notebook and pen in my back pocket for a few years when I was considering doing, and then eventually trying my hand at, stand-up comedy. It still finds its way into my pocket every now and then, but the notebook is full of mostly funny thoughts or short bursts of inspiration, nothing really concrete, and most of it probably indecipherable to the general public, as well as myself, depending on how long ago it was written.
So, here I am, walking in to my first day of classes. it's a Monday, and I've got a 100 level intro class, "Introduction to Environmental Issues." Apparently it's a science class for not very science-y people. I fit that bill perfectly. After that is my 400 level English literature seminar on Edgar Allan Poe. Talk about a juxtaposition. In both instances I'm excited, but hesitant. The Science class- because I historically have been terrible at science. The Poe Seminar- because historically I crashed and burned when it came to upper level literature courses, and I'm apprehensive about my ability to read, but more importantly write, at the level I feel I will have to in order to succeed. I'm going to have to relearn a lot of things in a short amount of time. I hope I'm up to the task.
