Pirates and Princesses

This weekend was college move in across the great state of Minnesota. The majority of college campuses are now teeming with students, the dorms (no, I will not call them residence halls) are once again slowly baking their freshman inhabitants alive, and RAs are rounding up beer cans and cheap vodka bottles by the bag. It's autumn in the Land of 10,000 Lakes.

Most of these students are, right now, experiencing that first lonely, homesick night. They're wondering why going away to school seemed like a good idea and they're desperately calling, texting, facebooking, or skyping every high school friend they didn't alienate during their last senior summer in a last ditch attempt to stave off tears. As I watched the laundry carts roll down the sidewalks and the cars crammed with mini-fridges, microwaves, and terrified families stream into town, I began to wonder about the dreams that brought those students to college.

There are, naturally, students sitting in dorm rooms right now who went to college simply because it's what you do when you graduate from high school. I knew many of these people. But by and large, I knew them for short periods of time, as they inevitably fluttered away to other easier--and cheaper--life paths. Those who stay however, who trek to class when its 20 below, who race strangers for open computers in the library, and who are lucky enough to walk across the stage at commencement, do so because they had some dream or desire that convinced them the money and hard work was worth it.

Yet, somewhere along the way degrees become valued based on their usefulness in teaching "applicable job skills." I graduated in 2006 with a double major in History and English Literature and Writing. I worked three jobs. I had a 4.0. I genuinely enjoyed learning and I was passionate about these subjects. Yet this degree was roughly the equivalent to a Philosophy degree in that it qualified me to do nothing except return to school for more studying. So I did. And two years later, I graduated with a degree in Education. I got a teaching job (which I love wholeheartedly). I was an adult.

At some point, the practical value of what we are going to do becomes more important than the idealistic satisfaction we get from doing it. Ask a child what he or she wants to be and he will say astronaut, pirate, or rock star. Others will tell you ballerina, writer, or princess. I have yet to meet a 5 year old dreaming of becoming an investment banker or telemarketer. So where do these dreams go? When does the world teach its children that money and practicality trump dreams and possibility? It happens. At some point we learn that astronauts have to know a lot of math, ballerinas ruin their knees, and princesses require a lot of etiquette lessons. So we do practical things.

We too often convince ourselves that we're too old, too responsible, too "average," to pursue extraordinary things. When did being an adult become synonymous with settling for "good enough"? The truth is the vast majority of us consider ourselves unworthy of our childhood dreams. We let life happen and tell ourselves that it's just the way the real world works. Fantasies are the stuff of childhood.

But I bet the world would be a bit kinder if there were a few more pirates and princesses wandering around.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Moving Mountains and Burning Bridges: The Power of Words

When Did This Happen?

Facebook Sucks