***written last Wednesday but worthy, i think, of posting.***

I am about to walk into my first ever grad school class.

This is SUCH a big deal to me. This breaks down so many walls.

To me, growing up, college was a non-option. It was mandatory. Somehow it got in my brain quickly that I was going to college and I was going to work hard to get there. I recall my mom telling six-year-old  me, “You’ve got to get scholarships Maritza, I’m not going to pay for college.” I wasn’t sure what college was, exactly, but I knew that anything less than A’s was unacceptable and that to do what was expected of me, I needed to work hard.

In short: I had a goal and I pursued it, unquestioningly. If I got a B, I thought I was failing. I would tell people I was failing. And I didn’t  intend to exaggerate, it’s just how I considered the issue. (It didn’t hurt that Bs got me grounded.)

Then I got a full ride to UT, got three simultaneous majors, and was done.

Until God said, “No, you aren’t.”

So today I start grad school. Something, until recently, that was never a goal of mine.

I thought smart people went to grad school.

Smart rich people.

Smart rich white people. Probably men.

And I, your average-intelligence latin-american girl living below poverty level (and loving it) am somehow, now, part of this world I always thought reserved for people “other” than me.

Oh mercy. Here we go.

I really wanted a good "first day of school" pic but was too embarrassed to ask for one. I snapped this right before class, in the bathroom.


4 thoughts on “First

  1. I’ve always thought of grad students as having crazy hair and speaking with English accepts. Feel free to do either or both of those. Also, if you can find overly large, overly old books to carry around, that’s also a plus.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s