Yesterday was the annual Labor Day retreat for Methodist Club at Lake Austin. The content was similar to last year, but the experience was totally different, because this time around I actually knew the people, and felt like a part of the group. Last year I was the new kid who knew, well, Lauren, kind of, and that’s about it; this year I’m attending the retreat from the perspective of the leadership circle for the group, and with the experience of a year’s worth of activities and a mission trip. It’s strange, and it’s strange to think that one’s perspective on an annual event can change so much in a year, from outsider to insider.
But that’s what I like about universities. Life is dynamic, things are changing. New people arrive, friends go off on adventures around the world, and you’re always learning. As a grad student and researcher I’m now investigating things that nobody else has seriously investigated before, and discovering things that nobody else has seen before. That’s exciting. What’s more, the environment that produces this lifestyle is itself exciting: the people I have met in my five years of university studies are by far the most interesting, most intelligent, most fun people I have met in my life.
If there’s one thing I fear about my future, it’s stagnation. Looking back, if there was one event that convinced me to pursue a doctorate, it was the visit I made last Christmas to WSDOT, where I interned my senior year. I was excited. After all, in the six months since I had last seen these people, many exciting things had happened. I moved to Texas. I started grad school. I’d attended a conference. I’d go up to former co-workers, and run my mouth for a while about all the new and exciting things I had experienced, and then I’d turn around and ask “So what’s new around here?” The universal response? Nothing was new around there. It was the same people, doing the same job. After a minute or two of thinking they’d remember that there were some new cameras installed on SR-18, or a new VMS sign, marginal changes to a job that was essentially the same as when I worked it. Or there were the new interns, new people doing essentially the same job that had been done before by my group of interns, and for years before that by groups of interns before us. Sure, it was a fun job and I don’t regret it one bit. But I was struck by the contrast between how much change and growth I’d experienced at grad school, and how little of the same was experienced in the so-called “real world.”
That depressed me. Right then I decided that I wanted a job that was dynamic, where I wouldn’t be reduced to performing the same tasks over and over again. And the best route to that from where I am is a doctorate. Furthermore, I like it. It’s fun to me. People ask if I really want to be in school for another four years, but you know what? I look at my friends in the real world, and my former co-workers, and then I look at what I’m experiencing here at school, and what my friends at school are experiencing, and it’s night and day. Certainly not everybody in the “real world” is stagnant, and certainly those people aren’t boring. But that’s not what I want, at least not now. Life has such a variety of experiences to offer, and to me, going out and starting a plain ol’ career would be like making PB&J every night when there’s a cornucopia ready for the taking. That’s why I need an interesting career; that’s why I’m getting a doctorate; that’s why I’m in a grad school… and that’s why I’m thoroughly enjoying the whole process. It doesn’t get any better than this.
