Growing up, I had an affinity for books, one that I’d never thought I’d outgrow.
I used to pore over mysteries, stories about witty Nancy Drew and a couple adaptions of Sherlock Holmes. Next came fantasy, so much magic I lost track of the pages I read–very interesting thing about fantasy, it’s inches thick: notorious example, Harry Potter!:)
Then I settled into historical, lyrical, and/or realistic fiction. That’s today. When I was in high school, I assumed that all the books my English teachers would suggest for “when you get to college” would prepare me for the books I would read when I got there. Now it’s been 2 years and one 1 semester to come of a pitiful list of books to read. And when I say pitiful, I mean, mostly textbooks than I often can and am encouraged to skim over.
This coming semester, all I’ve got to look forward to is the works of Shakespeare for my English elective. I know a college diploma doesn’t come easy, but I am eager for the days when the classes I take all relate to my area of speciality.
Courses in education and teaching, literature and composition, creative expression… Mostly, the wonder of poetry, drawing, and perhaps a little ballet. Yet, I’ve learned that my education is in general self-taught. All I ask for is some guidance.
And so, as my time at NOVA runs out, I hope whatever transfer school I land provides fulfillment. Intellectual satisfaction, I’m waiting. Immigration reform, you are overdue.