Even Greater Than Hamlet

How Giving Up on My Childhood Dreams Have Made My Adult Dreams Come True 

I think a lot of people have this idea that the moment you give up on your dreams corresponds with a period of fatigue chasing after them. It's been a few years since I gave up on my first dreams, but it's taken this long to see that fatigue had nothing to do with my choice, even if the depression following it suggested otherwise. I never grew tired of grueling hours in the library writing 30-40 hour essays while working and volunteering with children on the side because I believed it would result in my becoming a teacher, whom were always my heroes growing up. I never grew tired of chasing my dreams because I believed that I deserved them to come true. This, of course, was my first mistake- the belief that one deserves something just because they have worked hard and passionately to earn it only leads to toxic expectations, as any good Buddhist would understand. Duh. Life is suffering.

No- I gave up on my dreams because somewhere inside my naive and broken heart I knew that I didn't deserve this inevitable failure. I didn't know it then, but I had to believe that there were ways for my dedication, motivation, passion and consistent hard work to to go towards something that I could not only excel and be happy with, but something that I really felt gave back to the community. If I couldn't teach children perhaps I could teach adults. If I couldn't teach English, perhaps I could teach life skills. If I couldn't teach anyone in the traditional setting I'd imagined myself working in since being in grade school, then perhaps I could support people and teach them how to respect themselves. Perhaps I could do greater things than teach high school kids to appreciate Hamlet, but I never took to looking at things that way until just recently. 

Even less than a year ago you could find me drunk and hashing out this tragic heartbreak without any of the self awareness about what I'm doing now, even without the education I've finally secured for this fall, which means more to me than being a teacher ever would have. Becoming a teacher would have been a perfect wish fulfillment of my childhood dreams, and I will never deny that. However, giving people support and a voice and helping sustain environments for communities of people in need to thrive, be it through education, social work, health care, or rehabilitation is something which my adult self is far more passionate about. When I make connections with people which help them feel like they deserve the help and respect they receive from me I light up inside just like I did as a tutor in high school, only this time I can see a future in it. 

When I was working at the YMCA I knew that I was absolutely very good at what I was doing and I could feel it in my heart and in my consistent happiness to be working that this was something I was meant to do. I believed that I was meant to do this because it was a first step towards becoming a teacher, and when I first volunteered with Big Brothers Big Sisters I believed the same thing. I was so happy and successful working and volunteering with children and I was doing very well in my classes in school -it truly looked like my road to success as a teacher was paved in gold and destiny and I lived for the way this made me feel complete. There were years where my social life and love life did not exist and where I hardly had the time to take care of myself but lord I was happy just working towards a goal I felt in my heart of hearts that I was going to achieve and that I deserved to succeed at. When it became evident that neither my work experience, volunteer experience, nor several encouraging testimonies from professors emphasizing my work ethic, passion, and dedication would get me in to the faculty of education when my GPA needed to be 0.2 points higher, I threw myself in to denial. For 2 more semesters I applied again and again because I believed it was my fucking destiny to get in there and walk in to Turcoutte Hall like I'd researched back in 2011. It was absolutely devastating to realize none of it would make a difference even if I did get in to the faculty by some grace of God because the practicum which followed demanded a fully open schedule and paid work and volunteering could not get in the way. Furthermore, when I began to learn about how they grade children, never mind the practicum students, I knew that I wasn't meant to be a part of this after all. I couldn't be a part of a system that rewarded birth right instead of hard work. I couldn't be a part of a practicum which graded me on my student's grades, not considering learning difficulties nor disabilities in order to keep the system streamlined. It wouldn't matter how hard a child would work to understand math nor if they came in for tutoring in their spare time. Only their GPA...pardon me, their report card, would matter. Practicum students would (understandably) fight to get classrooms with the least kids marked as dyslexic or "behind" in their learning because they were not going to be graded on their abilities and efforts with students who needed teaching expertise, but rather on their abilities to be efficient. 

I gave up because I knew that I couldn't succeed. It wasn't that I got tired of the fight, but that I saw that there was no victory for me. This wasn't what I'd always imagined as a child. I always saw teaching as a profession which valued effort and individualism in students like my teachers always did. I never stopped to consider that there was a reason that it was only teachers in their tenure that really gave a shit and all of those shady side comments my old teachers used to throw about the faculty of education went right over my head back then. 

It was terrible. I don't need to sugar coat it- I am not a good liar. I looked like someone who's dreams had been broken for a long enough time that I grew depressed and I took a year off of education altogether. It wasn't until I began working at Quest that I started looking in to social work and educating myself in the field.

I am so happy working with Quest and I still volunteer with the YMCA and Big Brothers Big Sisters which continue to bring play and purpose to my life. It is an amazing feeling to see myself succeed and feel so fulfilled after I'd believed for too long that the system had fucked me over. It's cliche, but in this case when one very large very esteemed door closed, several more opened. Now I have many dreams for my career and those include (though are not limited to) working in youth shelters, half-way houses, rehab centers, outreach centers, working as a special-education consultant, doing family therapy and outreach, and working with adults and children with disabilities in any capacity. Whether I am facilitating a space for autistic adults to learn life skills or providing respite for an overworked single mom, I am absolutely living out my dreams now and I can't imagine ever feeling this way teaching Hamlet, even in "Freedom Writers" style. 

Giving up on my dreams made me understand my alcoholic genes and created a cynic of me for a moment, but I also got through it and I learned how to apply my cynicism in effective ways through spirituality. Life is suffering, but there is a way through it. Desire will only ever lead to disappointment, but after I stopped believing I deserved anything and started just doing what I realized I was good at, I didn't need everything to work out in my favor- my hard work was rewarded in the most surprisingly cliched of ways. Instead of teaching Hamlet, I help my clients realize that they are worth more than others will let them believe and that nobody can tell them that their efforts will get them nowhere.
If I had gotten in to the University of Lethbridge's faculty of education on schedule I would be graduating next year. I would not have even gotten as far as I am now- making a decent wage doing what I love with plenty of time to study, volunteer, and travel on the side. Funny how life is. Had I followed my dreams as a child, I'd still be well in a never-ending chase of desire, but now I am at peace.