These papers can be tough, but they can also be enjoyable. Such is the one I am working on currently: define and theorize about a “critical incident” in your undergraduate career.
I have to say that I’m glad I kept this blog. I started it right after the critical incident occurred.
I started it during the spring semester of my first year of college, right after the metaphorical rug of identity was pulled out from under me. Having quit basketball and gotten shoulder surgery that winter break, my forseeable future was unclear, unathletic, and rainy, since I had chosen to spend my college years in the gray Pacific North West.
But somehow I got through it.
I dove into writing.
I dove into school.
And friendships and coffee and a life far richer than I could have imagined.
I drank beer, I stayed up late; kissed boys, crossed lines, and, for the most part, stayed out of trouble.
I quit something and then I allowed myself to not know who I was for a little bit.
It took a summer of bright lights and rave culture to show me who I was, and when I returned to school, I did something bold: I joined the crew team.
I took a chance on myself.
I trusted in my mind, body, and soul to get me through my sophomore year.
And it did.
And I lived.
This paper that I’m embarking on will be a less poetic, more theoretical, and a slightly scholarly version of the above.
So on I will write,
Reflective-Girl in Like