When I was little, I always wanted to be a teacher. I used to line up my various stuffed animals all in front of me like a classroom and I would spout my nonsense out to them for hours on end. I used to dress up like on a teacher on Career Day back in elementary and middle school. My whole life, I thought I was destined to be a teacher.
But things change. Life throws you curves balls you never expected. Yet, even when you think your life has been completely destroyed, you can truly find yourself after all is said and done.
Curves balls were thrown at me all the time throughout college. When I first started out as a freshman, I was bitter because I had none of my “close friends” with me at RIC. And I was far too shy to talk to people then. I was alone for my freshman year and then, after a huge falling out with those so-called “friends,” I had nobody outside of my family to talk to.
During my freshman and sophomore year, I was only doing Gen Eds. Needless to say, I was bored out my skull those first two years. I wanted to get into a classroom and start teaching! I was under the impression for a long time as I grew older that college would just throw me into the profession. But there was so much I had to go through to even get to the point when I could actually apply to the Education program.
Needless to say, I wasn’t very happy during my first two years. I asked my parents multiple times to let me drop out. I kept arguing that I hated college and I just wanted some time off to do whatever. I wasn’t working then so my parents refused to let me stop going to school. Which I am insanely grateful for today.
Then, at some point during my sophomore year, I had the desire to switch majors. It was almost as if something clicked inside me. It wasn’t that I hate college: it was that I hated what I was doing in college. I was falling out of love with being a teacher. I was beginning to realize teaching really wasn’t for me. If I was going to be stuck doing something for essentially the rest of my life, I wanted to do something I loved.
And what I loved was English.
The only reason I wanted to be an English teacher was because I thought it was all I could do that involved English. It might’ve been a teacher or a guidance counselor I had been switched to, but I was beginning to realize all the different things I could do with an English degree. I could be a writer, an editor, a journalist, or a publisher. I could work in advertising or public relations or, hell, even law. There were so many possibilities and a teacher was just one of the many options.
So, I decided to ask my parents if they would support me changing my major from teaching to English. Initially, they said no. They were worried there wasn’t a single stable job out there for someone with an English degree. They told me to just stick with teaching to see where it went from there.
Yes, they had good intentions, but they were unknowingly blocking me from my new dream.
After that, I continued pursuing a teaching degree and very unenthusiastically, I might add. I was just going through the motions at that point. I wasn’t enjoying a single one of my education classes and I couldn’t wait to get to even just my generic English course. I savored them and dreaded having to attend any of my other ones that had nothing to do with English.
During the summer of my junior year, I realized I had to hurry to get into the Education program. My advisor told me I had to work on taking the Praxis exams. For those of who don’t know, the Praxis is essentially an overrated SAT. I was nervous about taking it because I suck at standardized testing. It’s just not my forte and it was a little scary to think I had to pass this exam to even be considered a teacher.
That summer, I tested for reading, writing, and math. Of course, I over-scored on the reading and writing portions but the math was far more difficult. I’ve never been good at math and the Praxis math was terrible. I only had an hour and thirty minutes to complete fifty-two questions. It was nerve-wracking and I ended up failing twice over the summer.
The first semester of my junior year, I fell into a depression. Mostly it was from medication, but another part of it was because I still felt like I pursuing a dream I had grown out of. I wasn’t happy in my major and I couldn’t even imagine being a teacher anymore. I no longer felt the happiness about being a teacher as I did when I was a child. I was only left feeling sad and lonely, staring into a dark, lifeless future I no longer wanted.
Once the semester ended, I was told my last chance to get into the Education program would be before the spring semester started. I had one more chance to pass the Praxis. Fortunately, I was given an extended time for my anxiety—a lifelong problem—and the depression I was in. The extension added on an extra hour, so I now had two and a half hours to finish that godforsaken exam.
Even after all that, though, I still didn’t pass. I failed the Praxis again for the third time and I was already in my spring semester classes at that point. I talked to various people about what to do, but since I wasn’t accepted into the Education program, I couldn’t continue in my courses. I was pulled out of three of my five classes and was left as only a part-time student. I couldn’t enroll in any other courses because it was far past the enrollment dates and I left feeling even more empty and defeated than last semester.
Then, I met with my guidance counselor. He told me to pursue a degree in just English and to get my Masters in it so I could teach in certain states across the country. Not every state requires a certificate in teaching and I was so relieved to hear that. Then, he started telling me about what just being an English major would be like. He gave me all kinds of information and helped me overcome the giant obstacle that had gotten in my way. He was the one person I needed the most during that time.
After mulling everything over and talking to my parents, I began realizing the future I really wanted was now within my reach. Perhaps not being able to pass the Praxis was a sign from God that being a teacher wasn’t meant for me and I was really supposed to follow my dream as a writer. I was finally feeling hopeful again.
Once I finished out my junior year and began applying to my next semester’s classes, I couldn’t have been more excited. My major was officially changed to English with a Concentration in Creative Writing and while I looked at all my classes for the following semester, I couldn’t wait for school to start back up again. I was finally living my new dream and pursuing something I actually wanted.
Throughout that semester, I grew closer to the people who I now called my best friends and I started coming into my own as a writer. I was meeting incredible teachers who encouraged my writing and helped me along. I was meeting brand new people who I couldn’t help but appreciate and I was finally in a good place again. English truly saved my life.
As I sit here writing this, I can’t help but smile. Looking back at all the crap I had to go through to get where I am today, I’m oddly grateful for it all. If it weren’t for failing that stupid, overrated Praxis exam, I would still be in school going after a teaching degree I didn’t want. I would probably still be sad and miserable and I can’t imagine a kind of future like that now. I have made incredible friends who I know will be there for me and who will stand the test of time and I have met so many other wonderful people and professors. And I’m finally in an environment that not only encourages writing but expects it. I honestly can tell you, I couldn’t be happier.
However, this article wasn’t just written to talk about me and my future. I wanted to write this in the hopes that it sparks something in someone. That same something that was sparked inside of me during my sophomore year when I suddenly realized I was on the wrong path. And I’m going to tell you something no one ever told me.
It’s okay to outgrow a dream.
When we’re little, we change our minds all the time. Some days we want to be a vet or a nurse and the next we want to be astronauts or the future president. Dreams change all the time. So it’s natural to grow out of that childish dream to realize you want something entirely different. Not everyone will stick to the career they wanted as a child. And if you do, that’s still great! You’ve always known what you wanted to do and here you are, pursuing that. But, as I said, not everyone’s dream remains the same.
Even when you do realize you’re on the wrong path, getting back on track won’t be easy. There will be just as many obstacles to get what you really want as there were before. But if it’s what you truly want, if you’re ready to give up on something you wanted as a child for this new dream, you’ll find the strength inside you to push through those obstacles. You just have to be brave enough to make that connection and discover that realization.
Just remember this: It’s okay to outgrow a dream.
