“Hey Look Ma, I Made It”

“Friends are happy for me
Or they're honey-suckle phonies
Then they celebrate my medals
Or they wanna take my trophies
Some are loyal soldiers
While these other thorns are rosy
And if you never know who you can trust
Then trust me you'll be lonely, oh

…

Hey look ma, I made it
Everything's comin' up aces, aces
If it's a dream, don't wake me, don't wake me”

--Panic! At the Disco, “Hey Look Ma, I Made It”

3-16-2020. I passed.  I'm still in shock.

 I’ll be honest: this is another one of those songs that would have come off better during a regular semester. Because, honestly, I’d give anything for these last two 2months to have been a dream and that I’ll wake up tomorrow and it’s the first day of Spring Break again.

This was supposed to be the big celebratory post. The party post. We were supposed to wake up tomorrow and go to the coliseum and hold hands in our seats and make snide comments about the speakers and laugh and cry and celebrate everything that we’ve been through. And now I don’t even know if I want to acknowledge that it’s supposed to be graduation. It’s like, if I treat it like a normal day in quarantine, then it won’t hurt—but the second I start thinking about what it could have—should have—been, I get mad and sad and heartbroken all over again.

3-20-2020. Molly passed. And she's getting published! No one is surprised. She's brilliant.

Don’t let it break your heart, though, right?

The truth is—and when I’m in a better mood, I’ll believe this a little more wholeheartedly—we’ve still worked our asses off for this, maybe even more so given all we’ve dealt with this semester. It hasn’t just been a two-year journey. It’s been a lifetime.

3-24-2020. Dustin passed. With distinction. No one is surprised. He's brilliant.

I remember in high school when I first started telling people that I was going to school for English. They smiled, of course, but in the most southern way that I knew they were disappointed. I knew they thought that I wasn't living up to "my potential." Out of the top five in my graduating class, 2 went to school for some kind of pre-med studies to be doctors or pharmacist at and to went into business. Then there was me, the salutatorian who was going to go read books. And not that anyone would actively compare me to anyone else, but Jacksonville's a small town. Everyone knows each other through church or work or high school sports, so they also knew that some of my best friends the previous year (also the top 4 of their class) we're in school for computer science and math/business and two in chemistry. I was the pink, artsy sheep in a sea of black STEM hopefuls.

3-30-2020. Noelle passed. She didn't tell anyone, but we're not surprised. She's brilliant. (This pic is from 5-6-2020.)

So I've spent 6 years now trying to do everything in my power to prove those people wrong, to prove that I am doing something worthwhile with my life. There was a time, mostly during senior year, that I felt guilty about my choices. I felt like, as a woman with an aptitude for the sciences (I probably would have done biology), that I should have. Put more women in science, you know? I felt like I was falling into a statistic, like maybe I could do more. But, actually, deciding on an English major was probably the easiest thing I've done. I just knew. Words are our most inexhaustible source of magic, and I've always loved them. I knew I wouldn't be happy if I wasn't exploring that magic as far I could.

4-1-2020. She's not kidding! Rebecca passed! Of course, because she's brilliant.

And now we've made it to graduation--with a master's degree--but I know that there's always going to be another "we made it." This isn't the pinnacle. There's always going to be one more thing I feel like I have to do to prove--to myself and everyone else--that this is what I meant to do. I'll need a PhD. I'll need to publish. I'll need to write a book, maybe teach at a big university. Because one of the worst feelings in the world is when someone smiles at you but it doesn't reach their eyes, when someone thinks they know you better than you know yourself--and, boy oh boy, are Southerners good at that. Sure, I could have gone to school and majored in the science and done fine. I was good at those subjects in school. That's not what I wanted, that's not where my heart was. I've always wanted to create something, and words are my medium. And now I found people who love words just as much as I do, and that's a big "made it" moment for me, too, to be around people who care about the things I care about, people I don't have to justify my interests too, because we share them.

4-3-2020. V passed. No one is surprised. She's brilliant.

I hope you guys have moments like that, too, where you can look at something you’ve done here and say, “Okay, I made it. I’m proud of that.” It’s so surreal. I haven’t quite wrapped my head around the fact that we have Master’s degrees. That’s huge. Really, not many people can say that. And that’s part of the reason that I’m so mad about graduation. (I mean, I completely get it, but it still hurts. On my bad days I wish that it had happened to literally anyone else. Any other year.) This is an accomplishment. And I’m so used to downplaying my accomplishments out of the fear of that people will think I’m pretentious or showing off or they’ll be mad at me or whatever. But I was finally in a place where I could openly be proud of my achievements and know that the people beside me would celebrate with me. You guys don’t want to steal my trophies. You have enough of your own.

4-6-2020. Cailey passed. Because she's brilliant. And she's getting a PhD. Because she's brilliant.

I can, and do, trust you with my most vulnerable parts. The insecurities that I hide under a bubbly laugh. That nagging fear that I’m not doing enough or that I’m being judged really does fade away when I’m with you. I’m not self-conscious about my taste in music or of talking about my grades.

4-15-2020. Nick passed. Because his horror is so good, it's scary. Scary brilliant.

What we have, guys, it’s real.

We’re real.

5-4-2020. The Force was with Lexi when she passed. Like we knew she would. Because she's brilliant.

We’re masters.

And no one—not Trump or COVID or anyone—can take that away from us.

5-5-2020. Mikayla passed. She wrote a theory, and no one is surprised. She's brilliant.

Like Dustin keeps saying, we’ll make up for this one day. We’ll get the party we deserve.

Love ∞,

Me