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Sarah Muir
MSM Class of 2018

(9/2018) Crayons, pencils, animal print folders, highlighters and pens in more hues than would be considered helpful, all lend to the smell and experience of office supply stores. For me, such places are full of potential productivity: a mirage of organization. I always liked "back-to-school" vibes. It meant a new start. Every year, about this time, my mom and I would excitedly look through my book list to see what there was to look forward to in my classes and get all excited for those courses I was going to take and activities I was going to participate in.

Not this year.

I have no book lists, I have no course schedules; no need for superfluous highlighters, frilly notebooks, extra post-it notes, or five-category binders that will end up being half the size it started out by the end of the semester. It’s a very odd and different feeling: a bit hollow and a bit off-kilter to see back-to-school commercials and know that this September, which usually came with the change I am used to and subconsciously expecting, will not come to reality.

However, there will be a big change. It will be an introduction into a series of events that I always knew waited for me but had no idea what it would feel like until I finally got there. It is like one half of me knows that everything is different now that I have graduated, yet the other half of me was barely paying attention and is gearing up for the fresh start of non-existent classes. Last week, for instance, I get one of these automatic mass emails from the Mount Bookstore with the subject line, "See what books your professor picked for your semester!" I instantly caught myself trying to remember the courses I had signed up for last semester and if I needed to do anything to prepare for them before school started. Then I remembered that there are no classes, or summer homework, or reading lists (outside of personal ones). I have no term papers or tests or quizzes awaiting my return.

Currently, I have just finished my engagement as a Production Editor Assistant at Wolters Kluwer in Baltimore as a part of their Summer Hire program and have been applying in the last several weeks with reckless abandon to most any job that pertains to whatever skills I have accumulated over the years. I have entered into uncertain waters and am filled with equal parts excitement and apprehension. Excitement, because anything can happen and whatever lies ahead will either change me or add to me in some way; apprehension for the same reasons.

Last month, I gave rising seniors--as well as anyone who would take it--life advice. It was a plethora of fortune-cookie, easier-said-than-done pieces- the intent of which was to make life easier. There is something I didn’t mention, and in hindsight I should have. That is life after. So this is a bit more advice about life after college.

You may have everything worked out, a position, a future and a ten-year plan (which I can tell you right now, won’t go exactly how you have planned it to go). Or you may feel like Dorothy in a whirling tornado ride of applications and resumes and interviews, unsure of when it will stop, or where you will land when it does. This is a time when you may feel as though your peers are on granite while you are shifting on sand and shale. One, you are not alone. Everybody goes through this. It is not uncommon or unconquerable. Two, apply for any position you are qualified for, even if you think there is someone out there who is much more qualified; you’re probably right, but if you don’t apply, the answer will always be no and no matter how good someone else’s resume looks, that doesn’t always mean they are competent. Three, always ask questions during interviews--good standbys are "What does a career at [insert organization name] look like?" and "Why did you choose [insert organization name]?" Do not rely only on your resume (seems obvious, but worth saying) and have an example ready for all your skills and experiences because you don’t want to seem as though you just added them because it sounded good (even if you did).

Finally, there will always be times where you will wish yourself ahead. When you’re a little kid you look up to adults, you can’t wait to be them. They are these all-seeing giants that seem to know everything: the meaning of a word, perhaps, or how plants grow, and how volcanos erupt. I’m sure most everyone can attest that there is a period of life where you are so ready to be an adult, because when you’re a grown up you can do whatever you want, whenever it suits, and nobody can tell you otherwise because you’re a grown up. In the eyes of a child, there is no higher power. When you do grow older you realize that you know more things, perhaps the meaning of a word or about flowers and volcanoes, but you don’t know everything, and you’re not prepared for everything either. It is alright to think of the better times ahead; after this loan, this move, this change, this year; but don’t wish the time you have now away. No matter its difficulties and anxieties, there is still joy to be found--a sweetness to cultivate, even if it’s only in the small things. Nothing else in the world can take the place of happiness.

My present and future, for the moment, are uncertain and the only aspect that I can control is how I spend the time I have. I may not be going back to school, but I am still learning and being taught. After this article is written and sent, I am going back to that pool of uncertain depths that is filled with applications and resumes and job searches, feeling both nervous and entirely hopeful of what is to come.

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