Going to college feels like defeat. Like somehow I missed out on pop stardom. I should have started my own business at 15 and retired at 16. I should have made some grand contribution to the world by now. Pursuing a career, outside my childhood dreams, stings with betrayal. Have I let 5-year-old me down?
These thoughts bounce around my head as I sit through 240 minutes of science classes on Tuesdays and Thursdays. I have, for the past year and a half, been a Speech Language Pathology major at Texas Christian University. And I’ve liked it… but I haven’t loved it.
I want to create. Write poetry, short stories, and books. I want to make music. I want to capture life in the ways that have engraved my life with meaning.
I can wax poetic on this topic for days – drawing out attacks on the current state of academia, questioning the status quo, and rebuking all of society’s structures. And it does me no good. I haven’t created anything! It is a weak attempt at feigning off time and expectations.
Finally, my criticisms have nothing to do with the truth. Anyone, in any job, life stage, or situation, can create art.
I’ll take an example often pointed to in the world of poetry. Wallace Stevens, a lawyer and insurance executive, won the Pulitzer Prize for poetry in 1955. Writing was never his “full-time gig.” Or consider Indie musicians. Even with a significant fan following, many work jobs waiting tables to fill the paycheck gaps between tours.
Creating doesn’t belong to a job title. I would argue an unemployed artist is just as much an artist as the unemployed artist. Don’t get caught up in the details.
Instead, create! Write the song, share the short story, and finish the painting. Create art because it is meaningful.