I am an English Major

I am an English major. 

And I hate that every time I say that, I feel the urge to immediately justify myself to people. 

Let me explain why I am an English major. 

I was lucky enough to be able to explore different options and do different things when I was growing up to figure out what I liked, what I was good at, etc. I had a modeling agent for a year when I was in high school. I am not tall enough or patient enough to model. I studied fashion design at the Fashion Institute of Technology in New York for a summer. I am pretty good, but still, designing just wasn’t for me. 

In high school, math was nemesis and science wasn’t far behind. I did love my AP Government class though. I grew up in a family that talked about current events and politics and I had a teacher who made learning exciting. However, I  was also good at writing. Or so I was told. I was a section editor for the school magazine, on yearbook and newspaper staff and posted some of my writing on Facebook occasionally. Most of the compliments were from my friends though so I assumed they were just being nice. Until I posted more personal, emotional things.  And then I got responses from the most unexpected people, all positive and inspiring. But I was still interested in debates and the law. So I asked my AP Government teacher, who dropped out of law school, if I realistically had a shot at being a lawyer. And he said “Definitely.” He also told me that the most sought after degree for a lot of law schools today is English. So I decided on a major in English, concentration in writing and a minor in Political Science, all with a pre-law focus. 

That being said, I would like to believe that I’m pretty good at what I do. 

When I tell people I’m an English major, I brace myself. I’ve heard, “Yeah but aren’t you taking any real classes?” or “So you’re learning how to say ‘Would you like fries with that?'” or “So what you read novels all day?” 

Yes. I am taking “real” classes and I do have to read novels for some of my classes. But that is not everything that I have to do. My hardest paper in college thus far was for my Poetry class. I had to write 5 pages on how the rhythm affects meaning using Shakespeare’s Sonnet 18. (Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day…) 

Now many people, especially those who aren’t as acquainted with poetry, confuse rhythm with rhyme scheme or sound. Let me be clear, rhythm is the stressed and unstressed syllables of words. I doubt many of you science majors who think that your work is harder than mine can tell me how stressed syllables affect the meaning of a poem. 

I’m not trying to degrade anyone’s major. I will most likely not find a cure to cancer, or send a rocket in to the atmosphere or solve the economic problems in America. But don’t you dare say that English classes are not as hard as any other class. Everyone has their strengths. 

As an English major, my long term goal is to be a lawyer. I know how to analyze and how to argue effectively and break down another argument. However, if that plan falls through, I have other options. I can write. I can teach. I can analyze. I can critique. And I can continue to learn. Don’t ever doubt me. You will only fuel my fire more. 

So yes, I read great novels in my classes. I also read historical documents. I argue, I analyze, I write. I emphasize, research and learn. I am an English major. 

And wherever this life ends up taking me, I will always proudly say that I was an English major. 

While I could go on forever about how my major is just as important as anyone else’s and how no one has the right to say otherwise. I will leave you with a quote from a great writer, that I relate to immensely: 

“And though she be but little, she is fierce.” -William Shakespeare

Things I learned in college over the past three days

1. Apparently, when attempting to pull into a parking spot while one car is leaving, having your blinker on to indicate that you would like that spot, is not a good enough indicator to the jackass on the other side of the row who got there after you. A stare down and mouthing the word “no” is not good enough either. Pulling up closer so he knows your serious? Not enough. No none of these things are good enough for him who will just take your spot regardless leaving you honking and cursing and using fingers that you rarely use. Thanks so much for being such a gentleman, you’re lucky that I didn’t key your car or have my boyfriend kick your ass. 

2. My brain is not meant to try and understand philosophy. I don’t like it. 

3. All philosophy teachers are old, white males who think that they have all the wisdom in the world. 

4. Speaking of wisdom, I learned that I only have 3 wisdom teeth but unfortunately I must have them all removed within a year. 

5. You will still waste time talking about things you already know in class. Even a 300 level English class.  The teacher will impart their wonderful ideas of how you should read and retain the information. Of course you must have at least 3 hours to work on their class alone and come to class happy and smiling because it is such a joy to learn about the history of rhetoric. I mean, it is isn’t it? 

6. Writing a sarcastic article about how to read for an upper division English class does actually help to relieve some stress about the class. 

7. Both the communication classes that I am taking are my favorite classes thus far. 

The Big Two-Oh

Today is my twentieth birthday.  I am no longer a teenager.  Thank goodness?!  I think about all my birthdays over the years and I remember some good ones and some bad ones.  But I’m thankful that I have had so many!

Two years ago today, I got the words “I’m learning to be brave in my beautiful mistakes” tattooed across my upper back.  These are song lyrics from P!nk’s song, “Crystal Ball.”  Those words, this tattoo, means more to me than I can ever attempt to explain to people.  That song was my anthem during my years of depression.  Those lines in particular stuck out to me and I would play them over and over again. The idea of being brave appealed to me.  Not only being brave enough to make mistakes, but being brave enough to admit to them, to facing the consequences of them, to being willing to make more mistakes later and learn from them all.  The song was released in 2008. That also happened to be the year in which I made, what I believed at the time to be my biggest mistake. I was 16 years old and I felt like I was already failing at life.  When I heard those words it was as though I was forgiven. I was able to forgive myself so therefore I believed that other people would be able to forgive me as well.  The next two years leading up to me getting my tattoo I made more mistakes.  I failed my math class in my sophomore year, which dropped my GPA significantly.  To this day I still feel like that is the reason why I didn’t get accepted to NYU.  A year later, I disappointed my dad for the first time in my life (at least on a major scale), which is something that I never wanted to do.   I changed the way people saw me in a not so pleasant way and to be brutally honest, I disappointed myself too.  And I wrote about it and posted it to facebook for the world to see and I titled it, “I’m learning to be brave in my beautiful mistakes.” And that is when I realized that I needed those words to stay with me forever somehow.  I wanted them to be a part of me in a way that everyone could see them and try and get a better understanding of the person I was becoming.  So mistake after mistake, I learned. And I grew. And I became the person that I am today.

So on November 16, 2010, my 18^th birthday was upon me and I was stoked! I knew I would finally be able to have those words become a part of me permanently, so that even when I am old and gray and forget lyrics to songs from my youth, I will still have them with me.  So I asked my older, already tattooed sister to take me to the tattoo parlor. And suddenly, there was a blizzard outside.  No really, out of the blue it started snowing very hard and the wind was ridiculous, so naturally we took that as a sign.  The universe knew I was considered an adult now and was trying to warn everyone! But we went to the tattoo place and she held my hand through the whole thing.

The location of my tattoo is important because when I’m feeling stressed or upset, I can feel the tension in my shoulders and back.  When it feels as though “the weight of the world is on my shoulders” I just feel where the tattoo is on my back and I know that I will get through it.  Some people wonder why I don’t put it in a place where I can easily see it.  And that’s because I don’t need to see it all the time to know that it’s there.  It’s in my heart.  I can also cover it up or show it off when I need to which is indicative of my personality.  When I want to open up, or show you something about myself, I will.  But if I don’t want to, you won’t see it. Simple as that.

Many people ask me about the significance of my tattoo and the short answer is, “It just has a lot of meaning to me.” But for those who take the time to really get to know me and understand why I am the way that I am and delve into my past, they understand it. Maybe not to the full extent but enough not to question it.

So thank you to those who get it, or those who have tried to understand it.  Thank you to those who appreciate regardless of whether or not you understand it.

Thank you to P!nk, for helping me in my darkest times and writing such beautiful words and inspiring such wonderful ideas in the world.

And thank you to everyone who has been a part of my life during the past twenty years! Good or bad, you’ve helped to shape who I am.  Here’s to another twenty more!  

Thank you to Havana Tattoo