The American Dream and Exhaustion. Part 1
In all honesty, lately, I've been feeling what I can only describe, as burnt out. Totally and 100% burnt out.
At first, I was annoyed, and confused by said feeling. The job I'm currently at has me working less and more consistent hours than I have ever, probably in my adult life. Sure, it has it's challenges, but it doesn't have the hours and the insanity that have come with other jobs I've had. So why now? After all these years and jobs with 100 hour work weeks, 4 am mornings, overnights, jobs with no true weekends, or jobs with no days off, why now do I feel completely and totally drained Friday at 5pm? It made me stop and take a good hard look at my life now, and my life for the last 8 years, and then my life for the last 16 years.
My story is not unique, it's not even uncommon. The details are different, but the plot is the same. I'm from that weird generation somewhere between X, Y, and Millennial. That generation who graduated high school when the economy was still strong, and graduated college shortly before the bubble burst. The generation of people who were given a road map of things we were expected to do, how we were supposed to do it, and when we were supposed to do it.
College, unlike High School is not something the government states you HAVE to do. While it wasn't ever forced on me, my family made it pretty clear that I was going to college. Society, painted a pretty clear picture too. Work hard, get good grades, do well, do good, and go to college, get a job. And even though I hate him John Mayer, summed it up pretty well in the song "No Such Thing". So, not going to college really wasn't option.
I was 14 years old the first time I heard the words "will look good on your college applications one day". I was 14 years old when I first took the bait and jumped at the opportunity to join something that "will look good on your college applications one day". 14... the beginning of my Freshmen year in High School. A good 3 years before the words "SATS" "Admission Packets" "College Information Night" "FASFA" and any other related term had made into regular every day conversation. Again for good measure... 14.
I was 15 years old when I made the realization that I wasn't going to have the "highest of highest of grades" and I should probably boost my chances at getting into a "good college" by doing even more extracurriculars and volunteering than I was already doing. Also, in the following year regular NYS Regents Level 11th Grade English and American History, weren't necessarily going to cut it if I wanted to look like an attractive candidate for the colleges I had set my sights on. By that point, even though I knew the above to be true somewhere along the line my inner mantra changed from "I'm really good at the classes where we are watching the Sand Lot, writing book reports, and coloring maps so I'm going to get a 95 on my report card, yay me!" to something like "I'd rather be okay at something hard, than great at something easy."
I was 16 years old the first time I didn't make the honor roll, probably because I was just only okay at the classes I had signed up for, and probably because I spent most nights and weekends at one or another extracurricular actives. I have vivid memories of sobbing hysterically on a very good friends lap in the choir room while a very good teacher tried to remind me that one marking period wasn't going to end my dreams of of a "good college" and a "good job". He was right of course, I know that now, I probably knew that then, but when the whole world is telling you "Work hard, get good grades, do well, do good, and go to a college, get a job", it's kind of hard to believe that everything will work out, even though I had only gotten an 84 over all average and didn't make the HS honor roll.
I was also 16 years old the first (and only) time I failed a NYS regents exam. (To to this day even though I know I was really really bad at Trigonometry I still refuse to believe I was that bad and that they only graded part of my test, delusional). My options were get a tutor, and take the test again thus erasing the first grade. Or take the class, which I passed with 76, again and then taking the exam again a semester late. Despite my mother, the math teacher, and my guidance counselor telling me it wasn't a big deal and I could just take the test again, I chose to take the whole class over again, because I was not going to have an 76 as a final grade on my transcript. I'm pretty sure I ended up with an 81 in the class and a 78 on exam... still blah, but at least it was better, and I was told I really could not take the class or the test again.
I was still 16 when my senior year started, and the teachers of my AP and ACE classes started telling the students in these classes that we were "the best and the brightest", "the most advance kids in the school", "the kids everyone expects to go on to top universities and colleges" when the year was over. Frequently we were told that everything we had done up until that point was going to be looked at scrutinized and judged, and we needed to act as leaders and uphold the reputation of blah blah blah blah... seriously, looking back, it's a wonder more of us didn't start crying hysterically at any given point during the day.
I was 17 years old when I filled out my college applications. I filled out 3, I only ever sent it one. I knew where I wanted to go, and what I wanted to do, and everything I had done up till that point was going to get me there. For the past 3 years and the current senior year I was in the Marching Band, I was on the board of my towns Youth Council, I helped create a youth lock in (that is still going on 15 years later) I was in the Interact Volunteer Club, the Drama Club (both backstage and on stage),Yearbook, Choir, a member of a statewide No Smoking Initiative, I volunteered multiple years at a summer camp for special needs kids, I had taken and was still taking AP and ACE courses, I took an extra year of Spanish, I took a class I passed again to get a better grade, I was a nominee for Girls State, I gave an admissions interview even though it wasn't required, I had a pile of recommendation letters, I was ready, I had done everything and then some (and probably too much) to make myself a top candidate (side bar: to the Suzy Lee Weiss's of the world THAT's how you make yourself desirable to the "good colleges" out there, and even then , even then, there are still no guarantees) I was ready, I was applying to the college I wanted to apply to, because in my mind, I had done everything "right" and I was good enough to get in. I was too young and excited to realize I was probably already headed in the direction of burn out and exhaustion.
A few months later, when I was still 17 years old (the opening night of the spring musical) when I got into my top choice dream "good college" I was promised by the world for working so hard. I should mention that is a great college, I just use the quotes to emphasize my point that myself and other people of my generation had heard "good college" for our entire lives. I was elated, I was over the moon. I had done it, it was hard, and it was messy, I wasn't perfect, but I HAD DONE IT! I was too young to realize that was truly just the beginning of the work and the amazing journey my life has been since then, but that's another post.
I was also 17 years old when "grades froze", a whole marking period before Graduation. A full 6 weeks of classes, projects, papers, finals and grades that were not going to count towards the grades that solidified the top percent of the class, the top students, who was going to graduate with honors and who wasn't. It turns out, that first time when I was 16 where I didn't make the honor roll, wasn't the last, and the time of "grades freezing" I was going to walk at graduation with an 84.7 and without honors. My inner mantra again changed and went from "I'd rather be okay at something hard than great at something easy", became "I should have just taken the easy road". I was 17 years old when I cried on the same friends lap, in the same choir room with same teacher as I did 2.5 years before. For the first time I thought all my hard work was for nothing, that I wasn't good enough,that I hadn't done what was asked of me, that I didn't try hard enough, that I was dumb, that all my dreams were going to slip away from me. I cried for days, I talked to teachers, and the administration begging for anything I could do extra credit wise to boost my average that last .3 to be able to walk at graduation with honors. I felt like a fraud, and a failure. I was for sure too young to be having these thoughts and feelings.
I honest to God and the Flying Spaghetti monster thought my top choice, dream "good college" was going to change their minds about me and my acceptance was going to be retracted. Ultimately, college was never actually going to see my grades at the time of "grade freeze", all anyone would ever get was my completed transcript with the aforementioned last 6 weeks of grades factored in, leaving me overall with an average slightly above 85. Nothing lights a fire under your ass more than thinking you were going to lose everything you worked for, and I had really good final marking period. So, it all worked out and I was well on my way to the rest of my life.
I certainly haven't loved every minute of every day since High School graduation, and it has and continues to be a very long, tiring, sometimes thankless, sometimes awful, often times good, sometimes great and rewarding journey. And every minute of it has lead me here, where ever here is now.
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