I made it. I was accepted. Now what?

After I was accepted into graduate school of course I celebrated. Eventually all the cheering died down and I asked myself what now?

I started to think about what kind of student I wanted to be. I remember my undergraduate career. I recalled not being where I initially wanted to be academically. I wanted to be a shining star but stretched myself to thin. I was not the high achieving scholar I was in high school. I was determined to be dedicated and committed to my academic career. Grad school would rule my days and my nights and that was it. 4.0 or bust. Go big or go home. I also knew that I didn’t want bad grades. In fact I had heard you don’t get below a B in graduate school. That just doesn’t happen. The last thing I wanted was bad grades.

Fast forward to the day of my first midterm. I submitted my responses to the midterm and my professor handed back my first paper back with a smile. I was like sweet. She smiled and told me good job-this has to be great. I truly regretted flipping over my paper. I should’ve waited. Why didn’t I wait until I got home. I felt my face get hot and tears stream down my face. I did not want anyone to see me. I rushed to a quiet corner where I sat and cried. It was a C+. That was not what I wanted or expected. The thoughts started racing. I have to do better. I have to. I can’t get kicked out. I can’t. I can’t show this to anyone. My mind was going a million miles per minute.

I took my time getting to the next class. I came in quietly. Everyone chattering about the questions on the midterm and the paper. I soon found out I was not alone in feeling disappointed in my paper or how that midterm was. In fact no one was judging me or comparing me. It was in fact just me. Everyone was trying as hard as me. We were all trying in our own way. We were all struggling in our own way.

I had to get a grip of myself and just try again. I felt even worse after my midterm grade. These feelings did not go away. I tried my best but my best was not enough sometimes. In between working full time and trying to stay up late at night and on weekends I was doing my best. Again, I was not alone in this struggle. I found solace in my peers who also shared the struggle of trying to keep up. Work-school-life balance. It was a constant see-saw of catching up and not being caught up. If you thought you were caught up you were wrong.

A ray of hope emerged in the form of a new job. This job would allow me to work less hours and focus on school. However, it was an even bigger transition in the midst of still adjusting to being a student again.

One day while sitting at my kitchen table typing away before a shift my new job. I could feel the same feelings of doubt and fear. The tears starting to well up in my eyes. I knew I could not do this on my own anymore. I asked my professor if we could meet and she agreed.

Half way through my rattling off of thoughts and emotion, my professor looked up and smiled. She said, “these grades, these feelings, your experience is typical of someone who has been out of school for a while. You are doing well! I see your growth and progress.” I finally breathed a sigh of relief. I had been holding all of this in for almost 2 months. I realized I had been trying to do this alone for the past few months. I really, truly needed to put my pride aside and let someone help me.

As a Xicana, daughter of a single mother, independent and very stubborn I am not one who easily seeks help. It is something I have been working on for the past few years. It is difficult. I have seen my mother do everything on her own. Why couldn’t I?

This conversation was critical in my perseverance with this program. I finally allowed myself to be vulnerable and ask my study group for help. It was one of the most difficult things I had to do. I also realized that graduate school means more than letter grades. While grades are important so are the opportunities for development. I am more than a grade.