I'm closing off the first semester of my second year at Sheridan's music theatre program, that which is commonly referred to as "hell semester": a dance critique, an acting critique, plus a full class load equals lots of blood, sweat, and tears. This isn't the first time I've heard the phrase "hell semester" however. Similarly, in my second semester of my second year we had a hell semester: classes, labs, tutorials, plus a design project. This time, however, I feel more bare, more exposed. A bad mark in school now may mean less in academic terms, but when it's an evaluation of your performance, it seems way too hard to separate the work from the worker.This weird deja vu has got me into that "where am I going?" thinking again. Sometimes I catch myself thinking that I could have a Master's degree by now. But then again, that's a lie: I never had any intention of going to grad school, and if I did, I probably wouldn't be done it by now. The idea of alternate lives is really interesting, but I doubt things would be much different than they are. I mean, 1. Now that I'm here, there doesn't really seem to be any other place I could be, right now, except for Sheridan; and 2. Coming here wasn't a split decision. Even if it ever seemed like it, that split decision is the result of all the experiences preceding it. Maybe I could be in teacher's college, but I'd probably be doing the same existential angst thing I'm so good at.
If I went to teacher's college, I'd be a teacher right now. Weird. Maybe things could be way different.
1 comment:
well, you COULD be a teacher. so could i! but instead i work for a church in new york city :)
that's better, in my books.
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