first generation foul up

i am a first generation college student.
i am a first generation college graduate.
i am a first generation graduate student.
i am a first generation master’s degree.
i am a first generation PhD.
i am a first generation nobody.
i am a first generation of future second generations.

And as such,
i am a first step, a milestone of beginnings.
i have no experience to merit my ventures.
i have not been raised in a home of higher learning.
i was raised in a tenement of hard work.
i have not had the luxury of being a gifted student.
i tried thrice, as far back as i can remember,
and i failed thrice, three failures i can’t forget.
i have been told to stop whining.
i have been told to keep my head out of the clouds.
i have been told to put down my pencil.
i have been told to go to sleep.
i have been told to wake up.
i have been told to go to school.
i have been told to get a job.
i have been told to get a girlfriend.
i have been told to go to college.
i have been told, ‘don’t waste our time and money.’
After the things I’ve been told started to sink in, a metamorphosis occurred.

This was my first chrysalization.
i decided i liked the clouds.
i like thinking inside the box.
i like to write, even if not a soul ever reads it.
i like sleep, though seldom enjoy it.
i loathe waking up, for this reason i seldom sleep.
i like learning, and sometimes that is what i find at school.
i like my job, but it is wasteful and costly to my life.
i like the idea of a girlfriend.
i like college, so i decided to stay here and teach.
i like when my dad says,’i'm proud of you.’
i like the hard times.
i like the frantic state my mind gets in right before a deadline.
i like the learned atmosphere.
i like returning to an unlearned atmosphere, even though i find myself slipping.
i like deciding what i like.

And this is all new, all fresh, all one of a kind,
my family won’t understand, and my friends can’t understand.

i ache as others discuss common topics.
i ache as i read the books labeled as common topics.
i ache as common topics are never discussed again.
i ache as the person playing sudoku says they have audio-graphic memory.
i ache as listen to the lecture for the third time.
i ache as by the fourth recitation, i still don’t understand.
i ache as i receive a 72, and the number tucked under the newspaper is 95.
i ache as i read books to develop my listening skills.
i ache as i try to listen, but can’t recall.
i ache as i spend hours trying to remember things like 754A.D.
i ache as i write on the test 574A.D.
i ache as the person beside me mentions last night’s reading was easy.
i ache as i return home to reread ‘Mr. Persecution’ for a 14th time.
i nearly cry as despotism takes all i have.
i ache when i try and fail.
i ache when i try and fail again.
i ache when i try again.
i ache when again the person beside me says,’this is easy.’
i ache when i ask to get the literary joke.
i ache when i’m my own worst enemy.
i ache when i’m my only choice.
i ache when i’m my only solution.
i ache when no one knows i ache.
i ache when i see my limits.
i ache when no one knows i broke my limits.
i ache when ignorance cannot be helped.
i ache when ignorance is my greatest weakness.
i ache when the graduate school application deadline was ten days ago.
i ache when the actual deadline is forty-three days ago.
i ache when i didn’t know i needed to know.
i ache when my friends ignore me.
i ache when nobody listens, even more so when they listen out of pity.
i ache when i’m the fifth wheel.
i ache when i’m the third wheel.
i ache when people don’t see kindness.
i ache when i try hard.

Although i ache today, i will ache tomorrow though tomorrow may worse, i will ache the next. if aching is what it takes to be a first generation, i’ll ache everyday with a smile for the second, and hide it every second from my friends and family, because i have been told to stop whining.

*Note: I found out today that my graduate school applications are past their deadlines and I won’t be attending graduate school till Fall 2009. I’ve never let myself down this much before, and worse I don’t know that there was anyone who could’ve told me that i needed to apply 11 months in advance. i didn’t even know where i wanted to go much less have all my requirements by then. Even by the time I spoke to my adviser in October, the application process began ten days before then.
I’m torn right now. I could use a pick me up. Only seven more days till hex day arrives again, and i need to whip out the rabbits’ feet, and good luck trinkets. Then, i’m rid of it for another 366 days. Praise be to that.

~ by remothe2nd on February 11, 2008.