As the first semester of my freshman year of college came to a close, I started to ask myself what I wanted to do with my life. Ever since we're little, we're constantly asked about what we want to do "when we grow up." I had spent months taking classes in a variety of subjects and had come to the startling conclusion that I was no closer to figuring out what I actually wanted to do after college. I knew for sure that I wanted to do something in the art field, but that was about it.

This somewhat worrying discovery led me to start searching for internships for the upcoming summer months. I stumbled upon the website for my local art museum, and saw that they were offering internships in a variety of fields, including communications, library assistance, and education. Education is something that I have always been at least somewhat interested in. When I was little, I used to play teacher with my mom, and I would make her sit in the play room with me for hours while I went through my "lessons" with her. As I looked more into the full description of the education department internship, I saw that I would be helping out with art camps during the summer. I figured that it would be good experience, and a lot of fun, so I applied. I made it to the interview process, and then wound up getting chosen for the internship.

As summer rolled around and I began to prepare myself for this experience, I expected to learn a lot of professional skills. I expected to be able to network with other interns, as well as professionals from other departments and art teachers from the community. I expected to help with things like finger painting, hot glueing, and sketching imaginary friends. My internship is now about halfway over, and although I did get to experience all of these things, I also have gained so much more.

I entered into this experience thinking that I would be helping to mold young minds as they learn about themselves and their creativity through art. I gotta say, though, that the biggest learning experience has been my own. Being around young kids for the past six weeks has taught me so much about myself and the world around me.

They've taught me to approach the world with curiosity, and never be afraid to take time to explore the small details. They've taught me that sometimes life gets messy, and it's more than OK to embrace this fact. I've learned that genuine kindness never goes out of style, and we never grow out of being a good friend. When you're young, everyone around you is a potential lifelong companion. They constantly tried to engage with me, make me feel welcome, and ask me about my life outside of art camp.

The kids I've been around are so genuinely, unabashedly enamored with the world around them. They're passionate about their favorite colors, the shows they love to watch on TV, their favorite seasons. They can talk for hours about how they love to run around in tall grass while they play a game of tag with their young companions. To kids, every day is a new opportunity. Nothing is taken for granted. Even something as small as a cup of shiny blue paint, or a brush with extra soft bristles, makes their entire day. Nothing is too small to be appreciated.

I guess what I'm trying to say is that as we get older, we forget that every single detail matters. Spending time with small humans that are so enthralled in the experience of just living, and all that comes with life, reminds us to jump headfirst into being alive. We're only given one chance to live, so it's important to live every day with the passion, curiosity, and fervor we once exhibited in our youth. To be young is to be fully enthralled in life, and we can all afford a little bit more of that.

Oh, and if you're wondering, I think I have figured out what I want to do when I "grow up." I would love nothing more than to continue the incredible experience I've had this summer, becoming an art teacher and learning from my students how to truly be alive.