I moved onto campus a few weeks before classes started at Purdue so I would have time to find a job. I very distinctly remember walking across campus to a job interview. There is a big arch that reads “Purdue University”. I walked under that sign, like Mike Wazouski stepping into MU, basking in my own brilliance as a new student of such a prestigious place of study. Then I looked down, and realized I was walking in the bike lane.
Freshman year, I started out in the College of Education as a Special Education major. Countless times people inquired about my major, as is the standard get-to-know-you question on a college campus. But I got pretty much the same answer every time. “Why did you choose that major?” and “Oh, that is so wonderful, we really need good teachers, especially in special ed.” After a while, I got a bit tired of hearing the first question. No one was asking the engineering students why they chose their major. Additionally, I couldn’t exactly tell people that I was studying special education because I was inspired by my autistic cousin. I am the autistic cousin.
Shortly after I began my studies, I also got a part time job at a daycare. In the beginning, what I was learning from lectures and working in a classroom of sticky one-year-olds seemed to line up quite nicely.
About halfway through my second semester, I started to get discouraged. I was fighting various mental health struggles and I felt like I was hitting a wall. Burnout can be common for educators, but I felt like I was experiencing burnout before I had even started.
However, I wanted to push through. For everyone who had told me, “we need more good teachers,” I felt guilty. I did not want to fail them.
Spring break was probably the biggest tipping point for me. I did not see it at the time, but God was lining everything up.
I experienced a sudden job change right before spring break, which left me grieving and financially overwhelmed. I scheduled a meeting with a career advisor to figure out what might be a good path of study. Through all of this, I felt as though a cloud of guilt was hanging over my head. I saw myself as someone who was giving up. I felt I had slammed too many doors on myself. As I floundered in a metaphorical hallway of closed doors, God waltzed in and opened another.
I stumbled upon a particularly powerful quote (thanks Pinterest!):
“Don’t ask what the world needs. Ask what makes you come alive and go do it. Because what the world needs is people who have come alive” -Howard Thurman
The cloud of guilt parted and sunlight broke through.
I spoke with a local piano teacher about working part time. Even though I had not taken lessons in a couple years, I was able to cite my experience teaching piano in high school. Next I met with the career advisor. This wise advisor listened to me talk for about 5 minutes, and then said, “you sound like an artist. Go check out the liberal arts majors.”
