Never Mind

25-27.

Those were the years I spent in graduate school. 

(I have very few pictures of this time of my life for some reason-sorry)

Prior to my junior year of college I only had a vague idea of what exactly graduate school was. 

I knew there was law school and medical school and I had heard of Masters Degrees and Doctorates but I didn't connect it all in my head. I was just hoping to survive long enough to get my Bachelors. 

But around my junior year it occurred to me that I wasn't really going to be able to do anything with a Sociology degree. (A major that I almost literally fell into)

My senior year came. 

I was working more than full time hours, I was trapped in a little town in Idaho, I wasn't dating or anywhere near married, and I was about to graduate with a degree that was next to worthless.

To say that I did not have a life plan would be an understatement. I had been (and still am to this day) mainly living in what I call 'survial mode'. 

It's typical of children who grow up with some element of chaos in their home. Frequent moves, poverty, addiction, any form of abuse- they don't develop the executive functioning skills needed to create a course and follow it. Most of them also do not have the family support and knowledge to navigate climbing up the socio-economic ladder. 

I learned what I could about graduate school and applied to Temple University in the MSW (Masters in Social Work) program. I did this for two reasons. It was close to home and I didn't have to take the GRE. I didn't have 300 dollars to take a graduate school entrance exam. A lot of fields of study require it. But social work did not. 

I based my entire career path on not having 300 dollars to take a test. 

My family (and anyone who is trapped listening to me for 5 minutes) can tell you that I am not passionate about social work. I am not passionate about being a therapist. (another job I kind of fell into)

To be completely, brutally honest- I don't even believe in half of the mental health disorders. It's not that I don't try my hardest to give my clients the care that they deserve- it's just... I don't know. 

So, anyway- I got accepted into the program (yeah, they were happy to charge me 40 grand) and I spent the next two years running around like a chicken with my head cut off.

The first year I lived at home. Took the train into Philly two days a week. The R-5. I drove up to Norristown (about 40 minutes away) to intern at a place called Hedwig House the other three days. It's a day program for people diagnosed with schizophrenia. (because I was focusing in mental health- not children, youth and families). That was the wildest internship of my life. 

I baked with schizophrenics. Cleaned with them. Broke up fights about Jesus and cigarettes. Read case history after case history. Updated the entire filing system. Lived in a little office in a corner. (with a Ouija board in it!). Fought with my supervisor Eleanor (who was from Poland and I swear spend every afternoon on the phone to Poland)

Year two found me living in the city. On Broad street. About 10 blocks from city hall- with it's iconic statute of William Penn.

I was a resident coordinator (in charge of about 15 RA's who were each in charge of a hallway of first year students)

This was my first "real" college experience. I saw it all. Alcohol poisoning. Crime. Trashy Halloween costumes. Chinese food at 3 am. 

There were moments when I loved it. But I mostly hated it. 

I don't like living in a city. So much noise. It doesn't enliven me. It exhausts me. And being surrounded by drunken college freshmen, a residential director who hated me, and being in possibly the most liberal major in the most liberal college on Earth did not make it easier. 

I wish I had tape recorded some of my classroom lectures. They really are trying to indoctrinate everyone with their ideology. Graduate school is not about free expression and exchange of ideas. It's as harsh and adherent to it's very strict belief structure as the Puritans ever were to theirs. I once said that I thought that if you loved your partner (spouse, whatever) you would tell them if you got an HIV diagnosis. My gosh, the wrath of judgement I got for that. It was insane. 

ANYWAY, 

There are so many stories I could tell. Between dragging Christmas lights down Broad Street at 9 pm at night, to listening to Eye of the Tiger and driving lost freshmen home from the Target, to the night of 6 fire alarms going off, to playing who, what, when, where, why with a group of people who were all stoned. Except me. 

Not to mention the camp reunions, the birth of one Elizabeth Mae Monroe, the BROKEBACK obsession (my gosh, I was insane), the summer of living with Erin in Colorado, getting my first ipod as a TIP, falling a little bit in love with the mountains, the second year internship at a place called POMP (completely pointless office work- I learned NOTHING), to my obsession with fourth meal. 

It was a crazy, crazy two years. 

And on my graduation day, in May of 2007, I promised myself I would never go back to school. And that is a promise I will never break. 

Lori Ann

p.s.- Up next- BARC and moving to the South, y'all.