28

Twenty-eight days and counting.  That's right: four weeks from today, at 6:30 in the evening, I will graduate from my little community college with my Associates Degree in science.

Back when I was in high school, I kind of assumed I'd go to college.  So did my teachers, my parents, and everyone else in my life.  When I made the decision to "take a year off," I was criticized from what seemed like every possible direction. 

Who in their right mind turns down not one, but three full rides to art school?

If you don't go now, you never will.

No one will give you a job without a degree.

Do you really want to work for minimum wage for the rest of your life?

(and the list goes on and on...and on)

Over the course of my "year" off, which actually turned into a decade, I found quite a bit of time to ponder these criticisms.  One by one, they eventually became less mocking and less applicable in my mind.

That decade off gave me time to grow up, something most people don't get to do before going to college.  Let's break down these criticisms one by one, shall we? 

Who in their right mind turns down not one, but three full rides to art school?
Me, that's who.  Yes, I have always been good at art.  Yes, I loved it in high school, and I was considered one of the most promising in my class.  But my teenaged brain held pizza, long jump, fast cars and cute boys all in the same high regard.  The fact of the matter is that I didn't have any worldly idea what I wanted to be when I grew up.  Art school seemed really cool at the time, but it felt like I'd have been playing, and that somehow didn't sit right with me.  If I wasn't one hundred percent on board from the get-go, there's no way it was going to work out.  I'm pretty proud of the fact that I could see that then.

If you don't go now, you never will.
Bull.  Sure, it's hard to get back into the swing of things as a "returning adult student," which is the charming name they give to folks like me - you know, those of us who embark upon the furthering of our educations at or after the ripe-old age of twenty-five - but I can say with full confidence that I was far better equipped to deal with the responsibility of my college education ten years after graduating high school than I would have been way back when.  I am fully convinced that I am taking far more knowledge with me out of this endeavor than I possibly could have as a kid.  'Cause that's what I was at 20.  A kid.

No one will give you a job without a degree.
Really?  That's funny, 'cause over the last ten years I've only had one real dry spell, and that was during this bitch of a recession that has effectively knocked the whole country on its ass.  There's a lot to be said for skills, people.  And just off the top of my head, I can name at least ten people who went to college, graduated with a degree and a boatload of debt thanks to their student loans, who have not been able to procure jobs in their chosen professions.  These are the people who are now working two or three low-paying jobs to pay off their loans while bitching day in and day out about what a waste it was to go to college.  Oh, and by the time my high school classmates were out of college, I already had at least four years on them in the job field.  You know, the real world?  Where experience counts?  Yeah.  That one.

Do you really want to work for minimum wage for the rest of your life?
Um, no.  Do you?  Again, not really the best argument.  While the people I mentioned in the last point were still in school, I was making money.  Not minimum wage, not millions, but money.  I was doing very well for my age.  By the time many of my friends graduated, I had bought my very own house.  I was running neck-and-neck with my friends' parents in the salary department.  Of course, that particular bubble eventually burst and now I'm back to making a more modest wage, but the fact is that it is possible.

I've never been a big fan of unsolicited advice.  Just like when we're talking about our kids, there are so-called experts all over the place just chomping at the bit to tell us what we should and should not do, waiting around every corner to judge, judge, judge.  But when it comes to me, my family, my life, and my education, I am the only expert, thankyouverymuch.

I may not have had all the answers at eighteen, and I'm glad I had the wherewithal to recognize that fact at such a young age.  Instead of prolonging my childhood by moving into some dorm with constant parties, I grew up.  I bought my little yellow house, married my sweetheart, adopted our two bulldogs, and had The Princess.  How could I have known at eighteen that this is where I would be down the line?  I couldn't, and that, my friends, is why I didn't make the decision about what I wanted to do for the rest of my life before it even began.