What's the Point?

In two months’ time, I will hopefully be walking out onto Angels Stadium in Anaheim, CA to receive my Bachelor’s Degree in Creative Writing. I spent a few days ago now working with family to determine where they’d like to sit and reserved seats for the big day while contemplating who else would be interested in the event. There’s a lot of planning on my part, and it’s going to be an exhausting run to the finish line. While I don’t think the ceremony will include walking, I am curious about the other trivial formalities. What speeches will be given? How will this moment feel special? I think on some level we all want to be at that graduation where David Foster Wallace gave that “This is Water” speech. I want to believe I will witness something special that day as I sit out on the field at 9 AM, recognizing that a near three decades of education has come to its ultimate conclusion.

And to that as I sit here, two months out, I am stuck with the same proverbial question that has rattled me for weeks, possibly longer: what’s the point?

To talk to my family is to know how difficult it was to answer the question: “Should I walk?” Having already been through an Associate’s Degree ceremony in 2019, I was more than aware of what to expect. Even my sister graduating in 2022 left me with confirmation of what it was like from the other side. As distinctive as the honor is, the ceremony is 70% a snoozefest. Get past the feel-good motivational hubbub and you get a moment that’s special to everyone, but only for five minutes. You walk up and get the diploma as your name is spoken over the intercom. I’m not someone who likes yelling and am frankly baffled by this ritual at graduation ceremonies. Maybe it's the sense of crowd competition to see who is prouder of something they didn’t do. Maybe it’s just that it feels so juvenile and non-collegiate. 

I wondered what’s the point a lot as the date has gotten closer. There were days when I was sure that I was going to sit this one out, maybe even just watch from the crowd so I had someone to talk to during the ceremony. 

I think for me, a large issue with this ceremony is that the B.A. was never about larger recognition. While I firmly hold that getting my A.A. was to prove to others that I was capable, the B.A. was always about what I would get out of it. There was no desire for some higher honor or competition among my family. The most I had was a dream to attend Cal State Long Beach and know what it was like to be a student there. For most of my life, I’ve driven past Walter Pyramid as a Long Beach resident and have only appreciated it from the outside. There was something about the school that connected with me. Maybe something subliminally wanted to see if I was university material or to know how difficult it was. Whatever it was, I went to the school less to sit at a holiday dinner and have people brag about my B average. What I wanted was more to prove to myself that I was capable of focusing enough on my passion and interests to achieve a degree. The fact that I’m now deeply passionate about watching Big West basketball and volleyball games while getting free parking at The Carpenter Center is a bonus.

Which is the thing. For me, attending CSULB was never about a greater glorification. It’s always been a personal goal that only I can judge as successful or not. As foolish as this may sound, it reduced a lot of anxiety over the semesters, where I was not pressuring myself to get straight A’s or necessarily have perfect attendance. 

What I wanted was the experience. I would take whatever hits came with my decisions and each semester would end with the culmination. On some level, it meant that my view was limited. I didn’t push myself into social environments too much that might’ve made a longer lasting friendship with students or staff. I constantly felt self-conscious about being in my 30s when I imagined the oldest student walking by me was 25. I was a generation apart on both sides, and the effort to be myself proved difficult because of that. With that said, I at no point felt bullied by anyone on that campus and the few casual conversations I would have were always pleasant. If nothing else, it made me optimistic about the future of education. There were a lot of younger, smarter people in those classes with even more open minds than me. I’m happy to see if any of them go on to greater success.

I understand, for them, if graduation is a big deal. While academia has been central to a lot of my life, I don’t know that the ceremonies have been my favorite part. I think of my high school graduation now 15 years ago where they almost didn’t let me walk for wearing shorts. It was a mediocre ceremony saved by a few final goodbyes from people, but it’s largely an attempt to not get lost in the crowd or walk across the stage and look out at the bleachers with any sense of scope. One of the few saving graces of my A.A. ceremony was that it was the final public ceremony for several years. The diploma’s nice, sure. I hope to hang my B.A. on the wall. But still, these events feel like the DMV in the end where you wait and wait for that recognition. The only difference is that once you get it, you’re usually waiting even longer and the symbolism in your hands has been picked far too much to death to keep you enthused. Still, for those students who have put in far more effort to get here, I get why this day is special. The validation more than shines when their stories are shared. Mine isn’t special. I’m just here because I wanted a challenge.

At the same time, it is the end of the line for me. Even in a hypothetical where my resources would allow further journeys, I just can’t. There was a point in Spring 2022 where I was having the hardest semester of my CSULB experience. I’d show up for four hours every other day and read 100 pages on the other ones. I was expected to understand Pre-18th century literature that never resonated with me on one end and make sense of “Ulysses” on the other. Let’s just say to the former that I gladly accepted that C. With that said, it was the point where I realized the futility of a Creative Writing major going into Master's. I’m sure there would be some greater access to worlds I wouldn’t consider. But it’s not like science or business where you’re dealing with more complicated formulas. All that Creative Writing has been even in the higher division classes is a determination of how cleverly you can deconstruct a sentence or write these invigorating short stories. In their own way, they’re a nice challenge. In another, you’re left doing the same thing for two years and all you have to show for those workshops is maybe a better sense of public speaking. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t hate any of those classes and they all have taught me small things, but I don’t know what a Master’s can actually improve upon in this case (that, and analyzing books in this manner so frequently is tiresome).

I’ve been exposed to a lot of meaningful works not only at CSULB but in my prior places of study. I am grateful to add my name to the Creative Writing major and be marked in some echelon. To do so in a year where noteworthy alumni Steven Spielberg also released a film that ends with the protagonist dropping out of CSULB only makes the accomplishment more sweet. Given that he was a drop-out who returned well into adulthood and following his own personal achievements, there is something inspiring about putting my story alongside his, if just to show that you could go back to school at any point. To me, the classroom is always a place of excitement and I do have a lot of great memories of being in them. Like I said earlier, I just love recognizing these diverse opinions being discussed with such welcomeness, where you get a few dozen people nerding out over James Joyce or even “Fefu and Her Friends.” More than anything, I would be looking to replicate this part of education going forward, hopefully finding stimulating intellectual conversations that aren’t always readily available to me.

 

With all of this said, I started CSULB in Spring 2021 and the times were much different. I think on some level, I got in because of low attendance following quarantine. Everyone was online and that would make dispersing the classes a lot easier. By some irony, even as we were welcomed back onto campus by Fall 2021, albeit in fragments, I still would have online classes in some capacity up until the very end. To say the least, adjusting to Zoom was very difficult and made worse by the previous year. I had spent most of it trying to keep from going insane and in the process began forming a detachment from the world around me. To have your only human contact then be through a computer only sought to emphasize the idea that nobody was real and nothing was important. By early 2021, I miraculously was able to get through the first semester with straight A’s while largely dissociating and experiencing my biggest struggles with attention span to date (I read Shelley’s “Frankenstein” through an audiobook just because I couldn’t process information otherwise).

There would be tons of stories to share about being a student between 2021 and 2023. I think it’s one of the most fascinating times in modern education one can have. Not only was it an issue from the health concerns, but those online classes promoted people to actively ditch. I remain concerned about the younger generation and how their future educational outlook will be. As it stands, it’s disconcerting how quickly COVID-19 protocols have been dropped across the board and how few masks are worn on campus or anywhere. To say the least, it was a big deal in Spring 2022, but by Fall 2022 it was a non-entity. The amount of boxes of cleaning wipes dropped so, so quickly.

As I’ve tried to share publicly, this has also been a time of personal issues on several fronts. I personally have had some of the worst mental health struggles of my life while at CSULB. I don’t feel I was able to connect socially with others in public until late 2022 after long periods of accommodating. I struggled to not feel numb, to break free of depression and harmful behaviors while doing my best to produce quality school work. There have been deaths that impacted me personally. Even as I write this, I’m fighting some dour feelings brought on by graduation. I think it’s as much the uncertainty of what lies ahead as it is trying to put 30 years of education into context, where the traumatic youth clashes with regrets from my 20s and even contemporary matters. It’s feeling like for as much is going right, seeing states outlaw LGBTQIA+ rights makes me feel lesser. It’s also noticing that my writing career isn’t always where I want it to be. So much of my own personal life is a great big “What’s the point?” right now. Now that I’m on my fourth month of congestion and respiratory issues (maybe COVID-19 related, maybe just weather), there is a misery that overwhelms me there as well. So much exists in contrast to my schoolwork here.

And yet, for as many nights as I do feel a little sad, there is something to how school has kept me motivated. It’s allowed me to get up out of bed some days and find an immediate purpose. It’s allowed me to see my life in contrast to others. While I search for that significant other who will make my life a little easier to manage, I do appreciate what education has done at providing a sense of worth. I’ve been able to grow and learn but also notice that cognitive dissonance is so real. I’ve been happy and sad almost in tandem some days, and it’s a strange feeling to have.

I think I feel it strongly now because I remember when I graduated for my A.A. and spent the night crying. I had a bad case of imposter syndrome and had to nurse myself back to sanity by saying “You deserved it.” I admit it could be shock of a decade-long challenge being achieved. Maybe it was that disappointment that the people I wanted there most had died months prior to the ceremony. So much left that night feeling empty. On some level, I think it’s my greatest fear right now. A B.A. is an even greater deal and having it achieved in tandem with mental health struggles like depression might make me feel worse, like I didn’t really try as hard as I can. I can only hope that by making it about my own personal goals that it will feel less that way, but only time will tell. Maybe the next chapter will be even better.

So again I ask “What’s the point?” I think it’s especially strong right now given that it’s two months to the finish line and I’m panicking over making sure nothing is out of place. The idea of perfectionism is clashing with so much else in my life, of looking at others and wanting their beautiful lives but also realizing the value of following my own path. I have more than enough to have a respectable G.P.A. on graduation day, but I still want to make sure I’m not just spending summer burning off another science class. It’s difficult stuff, and I think it’s all a challenging thing to take in. 

What’s the point? I don’t know that walking is necessarily the point for me. I think at the end of the day, it’s less about walking across the stage and more just recognizing that this is the end. I’ve done so much more than learn in the past two years. I’ve become a better person who is happier in who they are. I’ve been able to write more personably about myself and just see the world with a greater, more optimistic lens even as the immediate future seems bleak. If nothing else, there’s a new Lana Del Rey record on the way and that’ll give me a great soundtrack to end things on. 

So yes, I may not have fully bought into the ceremony as meaningful for me. I still am unsure what it will all amount to. However, I do want to see where things will go from here. Given that I already have planned to grab some In N Out after things, there’s hope that it will be a good time. I’ve been through a lot, so it only makes sense to take one last moment of boringly waiting for things to get moving to remember just how much that should mean to me.