I know we usually get together on Friday mornings, but we haven’t chatted in a while and now feels like a great time to catch up.
In the past sixteen years I haven’t known an August that felt so uncertain.
While every year has presented a new set of challenges; new jobs, new grades, classes, and friends, every August has been predictable. Since I submitted my last final in April of 2023, the idea of my college graduation has positioned itself like a ticking clock in the foreground of my mind. When I pictured it, I only saw myself crossing the cistern. I forgot, for a while, to be present. I forgot about “getting there” until recently when it hit me - I’m in it.
Less than ten days of classes left, my senior photos were taken yesterday, I got THE haircut (a very adult haircut, or as some might say, the F.A.B.) I try to stay present, attentive to my friends, my work, but I feel like spiraling out at any given moment. If I could go back in time, I would like five more minutes in my freshman year dorm room. I would probably sit down at that desk and write something.
Variety and possibility have always been two ideas I’ve invited into my life, but right now they feel terrifying. In many ways, I’m intimidated and a bit jealous of my peers who have made definitive choices about their next steps. I struck out on the only corporate style interview I was offered. Optimism tells me there’s something better coming, but my LinkedIn page shows me everyone I’ve never met who’s accepted a position in a major city. It’s a torturous cycle. I’ve always prided myself on being ambitious, but I had to question how ambitious I really am the first time I met someone my own age who had already given a TED talk. Did I do enough? Was this the correct path?
And the TED talk thing - It’s happened twice and each time I’m like who the fuck does that and in one instance I was duped into thinking he was british when in fact, he gave that TED talk in a southern accent so I really had to question my reality but yeah it’s happened twice
But who really has it all figured out at twenty two?
When I was eighteen and first committed to the College of Charleston, I declared an Arts Management degree and planned to minor in Dance and Political Science. Ambitious. I haven’t stepped foot into a dance studio in four years, and my last poli sci class wrapped up in December of 2020. My plans changed quickly, and what I thought I could love doing forever became something I outgrew. Despite this, I found my music industry concentration, a program I have loved that I’ve stuck with since.
My first conversations with folks already working in the music industry were harsh reality checks. Sure, I planned to work in music marketing, but perhaps I should consider working as a security guard or a bartender. While both are noble professions (imagine being the person who has to kick a drunk photographer out of the pit, trust me, I’ve seen it happen) I am working towards my Bachelor’s Degree in Arts Management, a newer program that was almost non-existent even twenty years ago. While lowering my expectations wouldn’t hurt, it felt wrong to reduce the work I’ve done over the past four years, wrong to water down my internships and creative endeavors as delicate side quests. This past weekend, my parents came to visit and I showed them the posters that line the windows of Charleston Music Hall. I was reminded of the hours I spent standing between a window pane and a step stool trying to push a poster into place with the end of a broom. There just was not an easier way to perform this task, being so vertically challenged. Physically, it was hard work, intrinsically, it forced me to be a creative problem solver (the beauty of an arts education!). For that, I’d be remiss to apply for jobs I’ve already held without a degree as a postgraduate. Every hands-on music industry experience reminds me how much closer I am to never again being the person who turns the ipad around to say “It’s just going to ask you a few questions.” At the risk of sounding like a brat, I’d like to remind my audience that I spent most weekends this past summer with my hand in a dish pit, slinging sandwiches and tacos in a kitchen the size of a postage stamp, and loved -most- of it.
So, just shy of twenty two, I have figured out that after I graduate, I’m going to take a photo with my family - that’s my answer. August will come back around and it’s going to look different, but I’m trying to embrace that the best I can. I’m reframing the conversation around my next steps, with writing at the forefront - expect to see more reviews in a few weeks when I don’t have statistics homework!
Time and time again I’ve been told how important it is to have my own “thing” but more specifically, I’ve been told to keep writing about music. I’m very excited to write about Don’t Forget Me by Maggie Rogers and The Tortured Poets Department by Taylor Swift. Music and writing have been a safety net for me in college, usually when I can’t find the words, someone else already has.
Here’s a playlist for this very strange limbo I find myself in, for my best friends - classy girls - who joined me on this path, so it must have been the right one.