2021, week 12: How I Came to be an English Major (storytime)

**This piece is titled "Because It Scared Me"**

“Now, Tabi, what is 7+3?” I asked.

“Well, it might be 11. Wait, I think it’s 10!” Tabi replied.

One of my favorite pastimes as a child was playing school. My older sister and I would take turns being the teacher. Our younger siblings would stay for a few minutes then leave to play with their toys.

 

In kindergarten, children are usually asked what they want to be when they grow up. I think my answer surprised my teacher: own an orphanage. Orphanages are not as common now, but I think deep down, I always knew that I wanted to help and educate others. The most obvious way to do that would be to become a teacher. But first, I needed to decide what age range I wanted to teach.

 

I worked a few menial jobs right out of high school, then I accepted a teaching assistant’s position at a childcare center. For a few months I was the building sub, bouncing between classrooms and getting to know all the children. Then, I accepted a schedule where I worked mornings with the one-year-olds and afternoons with the preschoolers. That’s when I began to thrive.

 

At the beginning of my preschool shift, I had the opportunity to teach the older children, while the younger ones napped. It excited me to create and execute lesson plans. I began taking classes at the local university and considered majoring in early childhood education, but as I researched the program, I realized that what was taught and how it was taught did not line up with my personal teaching philosophy. My brother had just graduated from Brigham Young University-Idaho and planned to move to Cedar City, Utah, for an internship. My mother suggested getting my college education in southern Utah, that way, I could be near my brother.

 

I looked at Southern Utah University’s website and decided that it was too big of a university for me. Then, I looked at Dixie State University’s website. I didn’t do too much research, I just saw that there was an early childhood education program and tuition prices were decent. I sent in my application and moved to St. George.

 

My first semester at Dixie I took general education classes and an introduction to early childhood education class. Then I changed my major to elementary education. One of my favorite courses discussed how to teach children with disabilities. As a requirement for that class I visited a local elementary school and spent the day in the special education classroom. The next semester I visited a language arts classroom in an intermediate school. I started thinking that secondary education was more my jam. I job shadowed and visited more language arts/English classrooms. As I looked at lesson plans and completed assignments I began to feel joy. This felt like home, where I was meant to be.

 

It was around this time that I accepted a work study position at Dixie State’s library. I had previously worked in an elementary school library. I remember enjoying learning about the Dewey Decimal system and learning the library’s computer system. As I began working at Dixie’s library and continued my degree in secondary education I noticed a divide. My studies no longer gave me joy. I was more excited to go to work and learn about the library.

 

Was it time to change my major yet again? I spoke with family and friends, took career tests, and Googled jobs that would help me earn a decent salary. Then, someone mentioned a name: “You should talk to Chandler Whitlock.” I honestly don’t know how or when that comment came up, but I’m glad it did. Although I wanted to teach, I realized that I did not want to do so in a traditional classroom, especially being constrained by Common Core, district policies, and many other things. What if I was meant to teach adults?

 

During my early 20’s I took a break from school and served a mission, then had a career in banking. As I worked through my social anxiety and established a healthy relationship with my mental health I gained confidence. Yes, public speaking can be scary, but what if I speak on something I’m passionate about? Some people may laugh if I stutter, but what if what I’m saying may speak to them? It may be just what they need to hear.

 

I began to understand the power of the word, the power of my word. And it was terrifying. I began to understand that my writing and my speech can impact others. Everything came together in that moment: I had learned valuable lessons while studying education, during my mental health journey, and throughout my life. Was I at the climax of my education?

 

 

Learning is meant to be an expansive and lifelong process. What if one’s imagination expanded to a certain point and just stopped? Learning is not just recognizing what others know. Learning is so much more than that!

 

Many scientists are said to be so great at what they do, because they ask questions. They do not believe that everything is explainable and can be understood. They recognize that there is much more out there. They're not afraid to ask the hard questions. Scientists see the resources around them and use them. Scientists may not receive the anticipated answers, but they work to find out what they can.

 

Learning is discovery: you can discover yourself and the world. Through learning and exploration, test the impossible and the improbable. Find out why things work the way that they do. Ask annoying questions; nitpick things apart; don’t take no for an answer. Keep on searching for more than what you have and know. Explanations may have been presented, but you want to understand better why something worked the way it does: trust and respect people and their opinions, and their studies, if they work in that field, but you want to comprehend and understand it, as well. If each person strives to continue to learn and not just fall into complacency this world could progress and expand at an exponential rate.

 

That is when I knew, I could not pursue a degree in education, there just had to be something else. So, I heeded people’s advice, and I talked to Chandler Whitlock, the academic advisor for the English department.

 

Our first meeting went something like this: “So, I hear you’re the academic advisor for the English department. What degrees are there?” I’d already read the academic requirements for Professional Technical Writing and Creative Writing; I had no interest in Literary Studies. I’d all but decided to change my emphasis to Professional Technical Writing: the safe route.

 

Looking back, I don’t know what led me to choose creative writing as my area of emphasis. I had no desire to be published. I couldn’t write fiction. I wasn’t entirely sure what people meant when they said nonfiction nonetheless creative nonfiction. It wasn’t safe, and I was raised to always choose the safe route, whatever would ensure financial stability and job security. Maybe it was my way of rebelling against what I was taught, but, deep down, I think I chose it because it’s what scared me the most.

 

During my first semester in the creative writing emphasis Dr. Armstrong had us write fiction, anything we wanted. I had just finished the TV series ‘Quantico’ and my job duties in the library included packaging interlibrary loan items. So, I wrote a story about a criminology book that was shipped from Dixie State University’s library to Quantico, where the book went on an interesting journey and may or may not have been involved in a crime. Upon return to Dixie’s library the book bore a pungent smell and scarlet stains.

 

I thought it wasn’t a very good story. Although the writing could certainly be improved, the hook, line, and sinker were present. That story taught me that I could write.

 

My blog that I had been maintaining for the past five years (the one where you’re currently reading this) proved that, but I thought it didn’t count. The only people who read it were close family and friends, so they just had to tell me I was good. Right?

 

I never intended to let anyone read my true thoughts and feelings about my mental health experiences. Even the temptation of a book deal or income could not drag me to unleash those thoughts.

 

Well, I was wrong. There was something, or rather someone, that could encourage me to let my guard down and share. Now, to some this may seem silly (yes, some people have guffawed when I told them), but the reason I wrote my book Out of Her Mind is because God told me to. I fought Him about it, hard and often. It was a few months before I finally said, “Fine! You win! I’ll write something. But I promise that it’s going to be bad.”

 

Many months and too many late nights later I had a manuscript. As I wrote I cried, I punched pillows, I screamed at God, “I don’t want to do this!”. Experiences from my past and from others’ pasts came to the forefront of my mind. I realized that I needed to write this book, for me and for others.

 

I never planned to have my name on a book, but as I wrote this book became a dream, no, a goal, of mine. I wanted to see it in print. And one day I did. My beloved pen name adorned the cover of Out of Her Mind: A Collection of Short Works to Raise Mental Health Awareness.

 

As I wrote, workshopped, re-wrote, formatted my book, queried publishers, and went through the process of making one of my dreams become a reality I learned one very important thing: there is no perfect way to write.

 

The secret to creating? Start. If you never fall you’ll never know what it’s like to get up. Failure is easy. Succeeding, or trying to succeed after multiple failures, is where the growing happens, because you never know unless you try. Make your reality look in the mirror and see the reflection of the beginning of your dreams.

 

The experience of letting my blood, sweat, and tears go into a project was difficult, but invigorating. I wanted to do it again. I realized that although I may not write to be published it is a coping mechanism for me. More than that I want to help find the good things, the stories that will influence others, and make sure that they are shared. I want to be on the other side of stories, whether that be inside the publishing house or across the circulation desk. I want to teach others what lifelong learning is and why it is at the core of our existence.

 

There is such beauty in losing oneself to another’s words. Adopting it and letting it be what you see. I may not have a set plan of what’s next, but I have ideas of projects that I want to create and share: things that will get me out of my comfort zone, that will help me grow, and can encourage others in their confidence and life journey as well.

 

Social media has helped me to share my thoughts and experiences and I’ll keep doing so. What I’d really love is, one day, to consult with writers who aren’t sure if they can do it, who aren’t sure if their story is something others will read. I want to be their cheerleader, show them that they can do it, and provide them with the tools and instruments to enhance their stories.