Learning Statement

Ever since I was a kid dictating stories to my mom, I knew that being a creative writer was my dream. The more I learned about the economy, though, the more embarrassed about this I became. My freshman year at UW, sitting in an English adviser’s office for the first time, I only sheepishly confessed it after suggesting a dozen more prudent career paths that I knew I “should” pursue. When the adviser just responded, matter-of-factly, “Well, I think you should follow your dreams!” it nearly made me cry. Never had I ever had such wholehearted support from an adult in authority -- it was the inspiration I needed to pilot me through the turbulent next four years.

If I could redo anything about my college experience, it would be to spend more time with that advice fixed firmly in my mind. I should’ve put it on a sticky note above my desk or something. Instead, I allowed this spark to get buried by the pileup of deadlines, jobs, and day-to-day errands that expanded to fill the space of my brand-new adult life. When I feel most connected to my own purpose and to life as a whole, it’s when I’m moving in the direction of this dream; when I feel disconnected and out of step, it’s when I’m distracted. Still, though, I met an incredible community of fellow writers throughout my coursework and my work at The Daily, who inspired me with their own bright-burning lights. And I’m in the process of forgiving myself for not putting the pen to paper as often as I probably should have. I was in the middle of a lot of things.

College is a time of transition -- in my case, this was true in many ways. I’m tempted to say that throughout college, I transitioned from adolescent to (young) adult, but the deeper truth I’ve learned is that such transitions are never truly final. I haven’t arrived anywhere. Even gender transition, which is often framed in binary, finite terms (“male to female,” “female to male”), is much more of an extended, interesting journey than a point-A to point-B destination. Throughout my journey through college and the UW Honors program, I’ve gotten comfy in liminal spaces. 

In my first quarter here, my passion for writing was exploded and complicated by English 202, a class that dove deep into theories of semiotics -- concepts that felt far too advanced for my seventeen-year-old brain. It turned out that everything in the world was much more complicated than I’d supposed. This was true of reading and writing, which I could suddenly no longer engage in at face value, and it also (of course) turned out to be true of gender. This latter realization spurred me on a personal journey that involved changing my name and my body, and, happily, declaring a new minor along the way (Gender, Women, and Sexuality Studies). As a college senior reflecting on my time here, I realize that I’ve dove into many different pursuits without realizing quite how complicated or transformative they would be. While I’ve certainly developed more adult life skills along the way, I’ve enjoyed learning how to make a mess of things even more than learning to clean up well.

As a senior, my two biggest projects are leading a student newsroom and carving out a life for myself (trying to keep those things in balance!). These projects, as well as all my coursework and experiential learning thus far, have only underscored the importance of complex thought: blurring boundaries and binaries, embracing compassion over corporatism as a leader, and figuring out how to make sure my true passions aren’t a dropped thread in this messy tapestry I’m creating. It’s my hope that I can continue to embrace complexity and expand my worldview and empathy throughout the rest of my life, and I credit this priority to my experiences in college.