In Medias Res

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I started my undergraduate studies in the admitted Fall of 2013. I remember, with photographic clarity, the day I moved in to the decades-old dorms just off of Old Main on the (remarkably/unfathomably) beautiful campus of Sam Houston State University campus. I was excited. Bright-eyed, bushy-tailed, terrified and indescribably excited by the notion of staying outside of some sort of notion of “home” past a certain recognized time of day/night (AKA midnight). I was completely unaware of the inevitable demise of one’s frame of mind in score for a person completely out of their depth and completely lacking of any sense of a community.

The year…literally the year I applied to and was enrolled in the program within the communications major track within SHSU, the entire academic community within the school of communications on campus that specifically pertained to the major track I was and have been interested in and passionate about since before transferring to University of Houston) was disbanded and no longer viable as a community applicable to the students on campus. I had put all of my unplanned, ineffable creative eggs in the basket of a school that favored criminal justice majors over any liberal arts majors at any time of the droning, depressing day in Huntsville, TX.

I found myself staring down the options of going to class which, at that point in my career (which was horribly early and in need of a very simple change), was not a wasted choice or…of following the unforgettably serene backroads of Huntsville instead. The choice is pretty obvious. It is why it has taken me so long to get to my senior year. I was supposed to walk on May 8th. Seven years have passed since I chose to give up a gap year in favor of joining a film program that managed to send its students to Cannes Film Festival once and once only. Plans of returning to Cannes or anywhere else were canceled the year I was enrolled at SHSU.

Irony is a good thing for the soul. It keeps you honest, and it is great content. Irony might have been the biggest factor in molding myself into the person I am today. Without the rather tragic irony of my “failed attempt” at higher education the first time around, I would not have found the community I was able to call home until early March of this year.

Happy graduation to all of the seniors who have worked their asses off, in various yet equally compelling ways, to get to this moment. We may not be walking across the stage, but our biggest steps remain ahead of us. Only this time within reach.

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