When I think of graduate school, I always think of my life
map. I must confess that I often laugh at my life map- mainly because I don’t
think it is a typical one. If you gave a
three-year-old a map and box of crayons and let him go to town- that’s what my
life map would look like. A few crazy turns, lots of loops, plenty of
crossover, and loads of overlap. Nonetheless, I am proud of my life map. It’s covered with a variety of
lines, all different shades and shapes. I’ve never been afraid to take a sharp right,
follow the hairpin turn, or go down the road less traveled (which, by the way,
is the road I’ve paved myself). And when I look at my life map, I always see
friends drawn in the various pathways and intersections.
These lines remind me of what I’ve been told throughout my
life- if you can count the number of true friends one more than one hand,
you’re either really lucky or really stupid. I’m really lucky.
I’ve gained knowledge through lectures, articles,
discussions, videos, and conferences throughout grad school and I can tell you,
the most solidified realization has been that your cohort becomes a family you
didn’t choose but, rather, is linked forever to your life through fate.
Few people will understand the difficult T.A., the late
night study session coupled with an early morning class, the unmanageable
amount of work, and the disappointment in what sometimes just is.
Fewer people will understand the excitement of securing an
internship, the inspiration of a thoughtful lecture, the triumph of a final
presentation, or the hours in a coffee shop broken by the smiles and chatter of
friends.
These people? They will go to Hell and back with you and
will do it with smiles, laughs, and the windows down the entire time. These are
your graduate school friends. The ones who- when you are so tightly wrapped in
the possibility of a perceived personal failure- can unwind you. The ones who understand that your lows are
temporary and your highs are solidly representative of whom you truly are. The
ones who will always tell you it will work out and who are always right.
I think that we often associate a thick black line with
something negative, something finished, something forever removed. But thick
black lines aren’t always ugly. On my life map, they are the ones that connect
us; the ones that can’t be erased, covered up, or broken; the roads that bind
us to each other for life. So, as I navigate graduate school, the
three-year-old in charge of my life map has a thick black crayon and is
scribbling away…and never has that thick black line looked so good.
