As a kid, the notion of enjoying homework was completely foreign. School was the precursor to running around outside and playing sports with friends. The faster I finished it, the better. School remained this way through high school and into my freshman year of college.
But then a peculiar thing happened during my sophomore year. I fell in love with school and the process of learning. Suddenly, I wanted to challenge my classmates, write papers that forced my professors to think and hold myself to a higher standard than before. Sure, I still resent the general education classes, but I find myself making the effort to learn something. Now, one year later, I’m preparing applications for graduate schools, investigating Ph.D tracks and spitballing ideas for thesis and dissertations.
Learning to love the process of learning didn’t happen on purpose; it just kind of happened. And honestly, I think that was the best way for such a development. I didn’t plan it out or fit it into my schedule for the semester. It just happened. And because it just happened, it opened up new possibilities and options for my future that I had never considered before.
Writing about my future for a column is weird. Putting it on paper (or, a computer screen) suddenly made it very real. I replotted my course for the near future so quickly and quietly that I continue to be surprised by it. If you’ve read this far and are confused, then that makes two of us. I started this semester the same way I’ve started every other semester: not really sure what’s going to happen. In some ways, that’s the beauty of it. As long as I keep learning, working hard and don’t get lazy, some interesting things are bound to happen.
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