Dropping Out

Have you ever seen the movie, Grease? One song that you don't ever hear being played outside the context of the movie is Beauty School Dropout. Over the years, there have been moments when this song has played in my head. Mostly when I have gotten a bad haircut. But it was in my head Thursday night around 11pm.

Why? Because I dropped out. Of grad school.

There. That is my confession. To the people of the world who read this blog. Some of you know of my waffling. Some of you have confessed that you sort of knew this would happen. Some of you are probably super confused. The rest of you could give a rat's ass about my educational status. For those of you in the last group, feel free to close this and move on with your lives. The rest of you, read on.

I'm not a quitter. I don't like to give up (unless I'm trying to like hold certain poses in yoga class...then I give up willingly). I don't like the idea that I've just dropped out.* I don't like it one bit. The dislike alone was almost enough to keep me in grad school. Almost.

Last year, in the beginning of grad school, I called my mother and told her I wasn't sure it was for me. I love people, I want to help people, I love learning about behavior, etc., but there was something about it all that didn't fit. I wasn't happy. I don't have the time to do what I love, I told her. I want to write.

But I sucked it up, because for so long I had told myself that I wasn't good enough to be a writer professionally, that I wasn't good enough to be an actor professionally...what I was good at was listening to people, giving advice, working my butt off. These were my skills. These were what I should focus on.

I wasn't happy my second semester and so I took time off this fall. Maybe if I had time to write, maybe if I got it out of my system, then I would go back and become the social worker extraordinaire.

The opposite happened. I realized that I didn't care whether or not I was good enough to write professionally. I still wanted to try. I realized that even though I love working with kids, I didn't want to be a school social worker, which is what I had gone to school to do. I realized I wanted my MFA in creative writing and wanted to connect to people that way. As a teacher? writing coach? I don't know what, but I wanted to connect through words. I started this blog, hoping this would get it out of me. Most writers have day jobs. They have other careers. So I thought I'd make writing a routine and then I'd be happy to become the social worker/writer. Again, something about it didn't sit well.

I signed up for classes for the spring semester because I knew if I didn't go back this spring, I wouldn't go back. I got excited about learning more about trauma and mental illness. I thought, "okay, this may work". Until suddenly I got that pain in my stomach. Until I started saying to friends and family that I didn't want to go back. Until I thought about why I was going to spend money on a degree I wasn't sure I wanted. Until finally I turned to family and friends and said, "What would happen if I just didn't go back?"

The responses were mixed. Some supportive, some confused, and some mostly negative. I quietly stepped back into my head and thought more.

I began to realize that my reasons for staying weren't the right reasons. For instance, instead of thinking about how rewarding social work can be and how it is a wonderful degree and profession, I thought about the embarrassment that comes along with not finishing something. Instead of thinking about how the classes interested me, I focused on how awesome it would be to have two master's degrees. Instead of thinking I really want to be a social worker, I worried about what people would say.

My reasons for staying had to do with the outside world and had nothing to do with me and my desires. I thought about it long and hard. I realized several things:
1. I have nothing to be embarrassed about. People may think I am making a mistake. So what? I am allowed to make mistakes, if this is one, which I don't think it is. I am allowed to change my mind and deal with the repercussions. I am allowed to follow my dreams and try and make a life doing what I love to do.
2. No one gives a shit whether or not I have two masters. In fact, I am a jerk for even thinking that way.
3. I do want to help people and am still passionate about social issues. I will help people--I just may do it in another way. I will do it in another way.
4. No one needs an unhappy social worker.
5. In a few months, no one is going to care. In fact, you guys probably already don't care. (Unless I don't have a job and don't have a "plan". So get a job and a "plan" ASAP.)

So I called family. I told them. The (shaky) bottom line: they all support me. I told a few friends. The (kinda-sorta) bottom line: Why not? So I drafted a letter and then sent it at 11pm on a Thursday night. 24 hours letter I was told that the school would withdraw me. Done and done. It is the easiest break up I've ever experienced. Writing this post and telling friends/family was harder than the actual withdrawal.

I don't really feel like I am dropping out I feel like I am dropping into myself, finding out what I really want, figuring out what I need to do in order to make this life work. I feel cheesy writing that. Why? Why is it when we start talking about dreams that it sounds cheesy? I've even made some steps toward this "new" life, toward new career opportunities which would blend several of my passions, but, still feeling the embarrassment and uncertainty, I don't want to share them right yet.

I know some of you reading this will still not understand. I know some of you already do. To each his own...which is exactly my point. I made this decision for me. No one else. And there are worse things I could do than that...

*On a smaller note, people drop out of school at different points, for many different reasons. Sometimes it isn't about 'quitting', it is about making tough decisions, about making it work, about trying to survive. I recognize that people drop out every day for much more immediate reasons than mine. I also realize that there are different kinds of repercussions based on what point one drops out. I hope while reading this post that you realize this is my own personal experience and not meant to comment on the idea of 'dropping out' at large.