Steffany

Spare me the lectures about what I could have been doing or should have done. I know all of those things. Up until this point, I’ve been a decent kid saving up disappointment cards for the day I finally fuck up. And Friday, right before spring break, I found that I had indeed done so. My mom has been having health issues, so I had missed a decent amount of classes due to being in doctor’s offices with her. This was my choice entirely, she feels that I have my own life to live, one that doesn’t include taking care of her. Yet, I feel indebted to my mom. Not in a negative way, but she is the end all be all of my existence. I’m not being dramatic here, she’s taught me all I know. We’re extremely close. “Just Us” by Two Tons of Fun played in the background when we reunited after I’d come home from break.

Anyway, I’d been missing classes, but my professor had assured me I’d be OK. Only to tell me she wants me to withdraw from her class! I was devastated. Earlier in the semester I’d dropped playwriting (a class I was really excited for!) to keep up with the workload in her class. This put me down to eight credits, two classes, and initially, my financial aid in jeopardy. Luckily for me, my nana is a praying woman and I just have to take an online class this summer to recover the credits. I was on one hand relieved, to get a “W” on my transcript is much better than an “F” which is the direction I was heading in. On the other hand, this is my first time being in a predicament this dire.

I am not a great college student. It’s not because I’m not capable, it’s because I’m unenthused. I am looking forward to taking interesting classes in the Fall, but I can barely make it through the spring! My need to look ahead, essentially having something to live for, comes to my own detriment at times. I’m having an uptick in my professional life. My social life is pretty cool, too. I spend a lot of time doing cool things, networking, taking “business meetings,” and my schoolwork has taken a backseat to that. However, when I talk to people at my school who are filling out grad school applications because they decided not to lay down the foundation of their futures at an earlier age, I feel some weird validation that, to some degree, I’m doing the right thing.

As a result, I’ve decided that I’m not going to stop being a hustla, homie. I’m going to buy a planner, the ones soccer moms have in their Longchamp bags. If they can balance PTA meetings with “Connor’s big kickoff,” I can do what I’m supposed to do. People work numerous jobs while putting themselves through school. Having the immense support system I have means the excuses I have are limited. I can have my cake and eat it too, right? I just have to find the boundaries between working for a better future and sabotaging my shot at being the first woman in my immediate family with a degree. That matters not only to me, but to my family, and I owe them that at least. ♦