I am a writer, photographer, designer, editor, musician, and amateur videographer who loves the process of creating. I recently graduated with a Bachelor of Arts in Communications and will be attending University of Missouri for my master's in Convergence Journalism in the fall. I love to capture the world around me and add to the creative movement. Because I have been loved, I try to use every moment to give love. I don't always succeed, but each day I'm taking steps, moving and growing into whom I was made to be. Visit my professional site at www.alexandrajacobi.com.
I met my adviser at Mizzou today.
And he intimidates me, and I don’t like it. I miss my old adviser, Ms. Tomi. She was practically another mother to me. In fact, when I told my mom my stresses about school on the phone today, she told me to call Ms. Tomi. “She knows more about journalism than I do. Call her; I’m sure she’d love to talk to you about it.” When your mom suggests you call another lady for life advice, then you know that lady’s got to be awesome. I mean, I cried so much in Ms. Tomi’s office that she gave me a box of tissues to take with me to Mizzou.
But I feel like this man is a lot different. And I don’t think I was expecting another Ms. Tomi (because let’s be honest, no one will ever match her), but I was expecting someone that was at least a little more compassionate. I mean, he’s not a mean guy. He’s just analytical and technical, which can sometimes come off as cold. He mostly freaked me out today, because he said I needed more of a life plan than I have, a “focus.” I am too well-rounded, and I don’t have a specific goal. I just want to work somewhere cool. I’ll basically do anything (in the field of journalism). Just pay me. And let me have a desk.
So, now I’m worried. Because he says I need a plan. And I’ve got none. I don’t have a specific beat I’m looking to cover. I don’t even know if I want magazine or newspaper work. I have no remote clue where I want to live, and no significant other in my life to at least give me hope for a future family or to help guide my life in some semblance of a direction.
When summer semester isn’t even over yet
raise your hand if you’re a lil bit of an asshole
Amy Poehler’s East Coast Rap.
SAY MY NAME, DON PARDO!
I remember watching this sketch. What a good memory of Pardo.
It’s really easy for me to be pessimistic, to automatically assume failure is coming or that I am not capable, and that I must avoid this failure at all costs. I must be the best at everything.
But recently I’ve learned that mistakes or ignorances don’t equate failure. It just means you’re human, and you somehow still find a stable place to stand at the end of the day.
It’s like a diving board. When I was a kid, I was afraid of jumping off the board because somewhere in the process of falling, I thought maybe I wouldn’t hit the surface or I’d die. I think it was my ignorance that made me scared. I had never jumped off a diving board, so who’s to say what would happen, and how would it feel? It was a fear of the unknown.
Fast forward a decade and a half later, and I sometimes still can’t jump off the diving boards in my life. I look off the edge and think, “Well, I can’t see the ground below, so maybe it’s not there and maybe I’m about to crash and burn.”
Here’s the truth I’ve seen in recent days: the bigger you aim, the more risks you take, the bigger the pond you swim in, the more likely you are to find a ground that was much more stable than the makeshift one you had before.
Want to gain some confidence about your ability as a friend? Move away to a place where you know no one and stick your hand out there and find several hands meet you back. Want to see where you really stand in your career field? Go to the best places you can go, the best schools, the best workplaces. You might find you’re much more average than you’d like to be, but at least you’re growing. Want to see how stable your faith is? Find a church that’s way different than your normal one and find that God stands past your comfort zones.
Stability stands at rock bottom, when your earthly comforts are far away and all you can do is look up.
I am a such a small fish in this big pond of Columbia, Missouri, but at least I am not deluded into thinking that I was somehow big to begin with. Life starts when we leave the pond and jump into the ocean.
I might occasionally choke up water, but I’m alive.