The Graduate (Part III)
It’s me! I’m alive! And I’ve done it again, folks; I’ve graduated. Part I took place in 2015 on the lawn behind Primrose Elementary School, and Part II took place on the football field at Lafayette College. Part III played out last night in an auditorium at The New School, where I was recognized as a 2023 graduate of the Creative Writing MFA program.
There were no caps or gowns and no diploma (I did receive a piece of paper letting me know to expect my diploma in the mail in a couple of months). But there was—to my surprise, given the loosey goosey nature of the night—Pomp and Circumstance.
To earn my degree, I completed a 115-page thesis, which includes a critical essay and the first third of my novel-in-progress. And so now, the hard part starts.
What I mean is, now I have to keep writing this novel, and revise the handful of short stories I produced during the program, to actually make a published author of myself. Now, I don’t have professors or deadlines telling me what’s what. Now, it’s just me, reminding myself to write, to produce, to work toward this dream that I spent the last two years (or perhaps even 25) preparing for.
Why does that seem so daunting? I’ve realized that the things we care the most about are always the hardest to face, because we know failure at these endeavors will hurt more than anything. If I keep writing my novel, eventually I will finish it, and then eventually I will send it to agents, and then eventually someone will tell me that it’s not good enough. (This isn’t a hypothetical—this happens to every author, especially new ones, and the journey to publication will likely be a slog.)
It’s hard to overcome the fear of failure at what you love the most and just do the damn thing. If I don’t write the novel, it won’t get written, and that’s a more complicated statement than it at first seems. With this new feather in my cap, I can take what I’ve learned from my professors and my peers and, yeah, do the damn thing. Write the novel. Revise the short stories. Find an agent. Put in the leg work. And publish writing that I know—with lots of hard work—will be worthy of publishing.
I know many people who are pursuing advanced degrees right now, most after taking a year or two of reflection time to decide whether their dream was a lasting one or simply a passing fancy. To all of them, the future lawyers and doctors and masters of their trade, I say, be proud of yourself. It’s easy to exit another round of schooling and go “now what?” or wonder if you wasted your time and money. It’s easy to be scared, because now you don’t have grades to work for or seasoned professionals patting you on the back. But you’re doing a great thing for yourself.
[Insert here a quote of your choice about never giving up on your dreams.]
For a little while, I wanted to go on and pursue another degree, another graduation. But then I realized, the only reason I wanted that was because I was too scared of holding myself accountable for the failures that are sure to come. Here’s to weathering those failures. Here’s to learning that dreams take work to realize. Here’s to hoping I take my own advice!
As for how I managed to graduate for the third time, [insert here an Oscar-worthy thank you speech].
And happy Mental Health Awareness Month.