MUSE MAGAZINE
THE 36-YEAR FINISH LINE WHAT IT MEANS TO FINISH YOUR DEGREE AT THE SAME TIME AS YOUR DAUGHTER
by Dorothy Engelman I am a mature Queenâs student. When I say âmatureâ though, I donât mean this stopped me from staying out too late one Friday night at Ale, drinking tequila shots with my fourth-year daughter and her amazing housemates. What I really mean is, âmatureâ in chronological age. I recently handed in my final assignment for ARTH250. This would complete the last credit I needed to graduateâŚ36 years after I first left Queenâs. In 1982, a credit short, and a year earlier than planned, I headed to the big city, and to what I hoped would be a big job. Before every interview, Iâd have this sick feeling. I was terrified Iâd be found out, branded a loser, a dropout. When I was starting out, my resume read: 1982, Queenâs University, Film Studies. I didnât lie, but I also didnât clarify if people assumed I had graduated. Luckily, I landed one of those important jobs in an industry where most employers really only care about work experience. And there I was: with a dash of luck, the benefit of good timing, and a lot of hard work, I went on to become a success in my field.
Throughout my career I was frequently asked to speak with students interested in getting into the industry. Inevitably, the first question was usually, âWhere did you go to school?â With a lot of false bravado, Iâd say, âI didnât graduate. Itâs not a big deal. Tons of successful people like Steve Jobs and Bill Gates were dropouts.â The degree didnât really count, or did it? If Iâm honest, this sense of âincompleteâ dangled over my head. The nail in the coffin came when my daughter and I were touring Queenâs. I pointed out a few landmarks, and someone asked how I knew the campus so well. My daughter jumped in with, âShe went to QueenâsâŚâ *big dramatic pause* ââŚbut she didnât graduate.â I was gutted. Destroyed. The one person I wanted to be the perfect mom for had touched on my insecurity. I was supposed to be her role model, her entrepreneur, her feminist figure, but it felt like all she saw was my failure to finish. It was the tough love I needed. It took me a few years to sort out how exactly I would finish, but throughout the whole process, my biggest cheerleader was my daughter. We all need support, for so many things. Know that people are there for you. Everyone wants you to succeed, and finish what you set out to complete. Donât forget to ask for help when you hit the inevitable roadblocks you will face. While I donât believe regret is a particularly healthy emotion, thereâs a part of me thatâs always regretted not completing that final credit, or that final year. Not because a B.A. is the most important thing, but because finishing what you start isâŚeven if it takes a lifetime. P.S. A month after I finished my B.A., I submitted my application for an MFA at Kingâs College. The lesson? You never know where finishing will land you!
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