college

From time to time, all of us have our doubts about the paths we chose to take in our lives.

It's normal to contemplate what could have been. Hell, I do it all the time. In fact, this past year has been one long revaluation of every decision I've made in the past 15 or 16 years!

But I always manage to bounce back and "stay the course", so to speak. My will to carry on refuses to allow those innermost fears and doubts gnaw at me for very long.

However, I've been thinking lately: What if I put my stubborn pride aside and truly reflect on my past as if every decision I've made has been totally wrong?

What would I conclude?

Hmmmm...


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Let's start with my decision to not go to college.

This is is tricky, because I did try to go to a community college. But I only enrolled in two classes, Criminal Law and Broadcasting. I received an Incomplete in one and a Withdrawal in the other.

The reason I didn't continue, I tell myself, is because I wanted to be a working stiff and I'd had enough of book learning. I wanted to experience life and earn a paycheck and I couldn't wait to do four years of college.

But the fact is, I could've applied for scholarships... and I probably would've garnered a few based upon my ethnicity alone. But I tell myself that I didn't think it was fair that I had a shot at a university when so many non-minority students with the same GPA as me were denied.

I also like to tell myself that right now I'd be up to my scalp in debt, or that the minute I finished college I would've encountered the Quarterlife Crisis that I hear so much about.

And finally, I have always trotted out that old sawhorse about going back to college anytime I want but not right now because I'm doing so much and learning vital skills at my job.

There is some truth in all of these rationalizations, but I wonder if I could've lived the life I lived in my early twenties and still received a quality education.

You may be wondering why I didn't finish those two classes. It's simple, really: I was carpooling with my good friend Sharky, who is known for his tardiness in all aspects of life. I hesitate to blame him for my continual lateness during that semester, because it was my choice to go along with his idea of the both of us going to the same community college. I could've gone to the local college and taken a bus every day, but I let myself be persuaded to tag along with Sharky... who is still taking college courses to this day, I might add.

Ultimately, I just didn't want to go to college. I figured that I'd learn things in the workplace and get experience I couldn't gather from classes. In that respect, I was correct-- I don't think I'd be as seasoned as I am with audio editing, for example, if I'd completed that Broadcasting class.

But then again, if I'd gotten some type of degree, maybe I'd be making more money right now. And maybe I would've met more people that I most likely would not have met. I probably would've gotten laid a lot more too.

It's something to consider.


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The left side of my brain reasons that I had just as many doubts about going to college as I had about not going. Truthfully, I probably had more fears and anxieties about going than not going, because there is a lot of pressure being put upon the average college student in their first year.

I had no pressure from my parents, that's for sure. If they were ever disappointed in my decision to not go, they never voiced it. Shit, they didn't even have money saved up for me in case I did want to go, so it's apparent that they trusted me to make that decision on my own. I don't think they ever expected me to go off to college, to be perfectly frank.

Would they have supported me if I had gone? Maybe. But at the time both sides of my immediate family (split by divorce, of course) were not in any real position to help me financially. They might have suggested I pay for it myself and live at home while attending, but I don't think they would have (or could have) gone beyond that.

They're all doing great now, so if I were eighteen years old again I think college would seem more attainable, more realistic.

But then there's that self-destructive, devil-may-care side of me that would've shirked my responsibilities and squandered my opportunities by not taking it seriously or changing majors mid-term or pursuing dead-end career paths simply because everyone else said it would be beneficial.

And let's not forget that I definitely would've used college as a method of making up for an adolescence that was only begininng to build up juvenile steam in my Senior year. I wanted to par-tay, and I'm certain that I would've neglected my studies in order to hit up the keggers and the social events.

I think I would've folded beneath the weight of exams, living as an adult for the first time, wanting to be creative, looking to have fun, and thinking about long-term goals vs. short-term gain... or at least that's what I tell myself.


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Last but not least, there is the issue of whether college would've been unnecessary or redundant, given my enrollment in Magnet schools from the time I was in second grade until I graduated from high school.

Indeed, many of my peers who went on to colleges and universities would remark to me later on that the first two years of college were basically rehashes of what we learned in our Humanities CORE program. Our high school curriculum was definitely college prep material, and I can't help but wonder if it would've seemed all too easy if I'd gone on to college.

Maybe I would've gotten bored and dropped out anyway. Or maybe it would've challenged me in ways that I cannot imagine. Maybe I would've found a niche for myself that I hadn't counted on, or maybe I would've soldiered on with single-minded concentration by focusing on one supreme goal, whatever that might've been.

And that's the bottom line right there, when you think about it: "Whatever that might've been..." I could go on and on thinking about the infinite possibilities, but none of the tangents I could conjure would get me any closer to knowing if it was a mistake to not go to college.

I often state that, for me, college would've been a disaster, but I don't begrudge anyone for applying themselves to it. I think there is a hint of resentment and envy inherent in that train of thought. It's as if I wrote off something that could've improved me or altered me irrevocably, merely because I was afraid of what might happen if I finished college.

What was I afraid of happening? Perhaps I feared that college would be too hard, that I wasn't smart enough or disciplined enough to hack it. Then again, maybe I was terrified of the notion of watching life pass me by yet again as I buried my nose in books and delayed the gratification of adulthood for another four years.

My half-assed foray into attending classes served as an excuse to not bother trying. Two wasted courses were enough for me to claim that I'd given it a try and it didn't work out. I've been riding the momentum of that claim for the longest time.

And yet, after all these years I am still conflicted over it. I think it is due to not knowing if I really wanted to go to college or not. I sometimes feel like I just dismissed it as sour grapes, but then again I don't feel a burning desire to do all the necessary things it takes to enroll.

I suppose I did the right thing for me at the time. I don't regret not going, but let's say that I had gone: Would I have regretted going? You never really hear people say they regret going to college. They might say it was a waste of time at the very worst, or that their degree is useless... but you never hear people say they regretted it.

There's that Butthole Surfers song where a voice says, "It's better to regret something you have done than to regret something you haven't done!" But that gets followed by the same man asking his son to scream "SATAN! SATAN! SATAN!" at his mother the next time he sees her, so that's not much help to me.

Still, I can't say I know for a fact that my life would be any different had I gone. At least now I can face up to the fears that motivated me to avoid it altogether. For whatever reasons I had for discouraging myself from higher learning, I am content knowing that the path I did take was exciting and challenging in its own way, and it has taken me this long to even entertain the notion that I made a bad move.

In the end, I'm here, I'm alive, I'm happy as I can be... Why ponder what may or may not have been my fate?

In my next post, I think I'll pontificate on my writing and the decisions I made regarding its place in my life.