Nutrition. As an incoming freshman, so very new to the world, I chose Nutritional Studies to be my focus of study at The University of New Hampshire. I was fully prepared to have a schedule filled with chemistry, test tubes and facts about lipids for my four years of undergraduate studies that lay ahead of me. I am now a senior English Literature major, and I am currently laughing at my naïve 18-year-old self in Shakespeare and ten-page analytical essays.
Nutrition checked the boxes for what I thought I wanted out of my college academic experience. Science=good career is what washed over my thoughts. I completely and wholeheartedly respect STEM majors and those who are truly passionate about pursuing a career in the Health and Human Services field, however, I quickly learned that wasn’t for me and it was not my destiny. And that is, and has always been okay.
And, no. I do not want to “be a writer.” Well, not exactly. I love writing and I definitely think it’s one of my better talents. You only get so many choices as to what your narrow decision of college major will be, and it just so happened that I have always had a deep love of writing and reading and can pretty easily convey my thoughts into decently-worded pieces.
And also, yes. I do know that being an English major is not where the money is. I know that you probably think it’s useless because it’s not Business related or Pre-Medical Sciences that comes with an all-inclusive shiny lab coat. I had the male cashier at Trader Joes last semester remind me that over small talk about the flowers and the type of eggs I was buying. Trust me when I say he was not the first person to fill me in on their concerns and opinions regarding my english major confession.
The truth is that I absolutely love being an English major. As funny as it may sound, I actually love reading tales like A Midsummer Night’s Dream, long romantic poems from thousands of years ago, and going to the library from early mornings to chilly nights typing away at a wordy assignment due weeks in advance.
My major has taught me so many things, and just because those lessons don’t include some important mathematical equation, (hey, I aced college statistics) or a complex scientific experiment, doesn’t mean it holds any less value to real life. The English classes I have taken, whether it being News Writing or an in-depth British Literature course, have given me confidence and tools to express myself in many artistic ways I never really knew how-and that’s priceless in my eyes. There was not one right answer or message that lead me to study English. There were thousands. Being completely honest, if I had gone with any other choice of major, I would have probably only have had a handful of reasons to do so, half encouraged by the pressure of society to fit into a certain box. That is not who I am, and I learned that very early on in my life.
My third-grade teacher, Mrs. Schmelder. She embodies one of my thousand reasons for me running with the idea of being an English major. I remember we were given prompts multiple times a year, testing our basic grammar and essay structure. I did not think much of it at the time, being 8-years-old, however my eyes were wide by the opportunity to express myself to an adult I loved with a #2 pencil and faintly blue-lined paper.
We were called into a section of her warm classroom, covered in Magic Tree House books and posters with words of encouragement like “You can, You will,” everywhere. Called one by one, I was ready for her to call me “sweetie,” tell me to double check to “dot my I’s,” and to not use “And” like it’s one of the only ten words I know. She threw my expectation out of the window and knelt down beside my pigtailed head in her cream colored cardigan and read my paper softly aloud.
“How did you write this”? she kindly demanded. “How, How did you start this paragraph talking about the rich smell of chocolate brownies on the stove of your house to the clean smell of bar soap and your mom’s golden blonde hair”? I will never forget this encounter. I can remember feeling so quiet, in shock that she saw my writing for more than just an answer to a prompt about our “favorite things about home.” Her response to my pre-mature scribble on paper was genuine and kind, but also innately understanding. She gave me a push to never stop writing, not just writing to finish an assignment for a gold star, but to write in a way that makes people feel something when they glance upon it.
I have become teary-eyed recounting that memory multiple times in my 20s, and I’m sure I will tell my own children about it when the time comes. And, back to the beginning of this article when I slipped in there that I “don’t want to be a writer.” That is not-so simply because I want to be an elementary school teacher. Specifically, a Reading Specialist. I guess that’s another thing to thank Mrs. Schmelder for.
My love for writing and reading followed me my whole life after that encounter. I basically lived in the middle school library, working on my write-ups, and free reading until it was time for lunch or even before school hours started. My middle school librarian even made a neat stack of books for me every month with a crisp yellow sticky-note with my name printed on it, having picked out books she kindly considered I would appreciate. Reading and writing are what make me happiest, and what has truly connected me with people in ways I am greatly thankful for.
I’ve learned so much about myself, what makes me passionate and that is due to my major that has given me the flexibility to explore millions of different routes. I could go to Law School if I really wanted, my writing skills have prepared me for the LSAT (okay, probably a long shot but you get the point.) I could go into business: every team needs someone who can articulate what tasks need to be done. I guess another thing that is important to add is that I absolutely love children, so a profession that revolves around little ones will certainly be in my future.
If I was a STEM major, I would be in a tone-deaf lab and would be spending all my free time trying to nail down how the muscle twitches-or something like that? I am terrible at science. Awful, really. Maybe it would secure a six-figure job for me one day if I got through it, but I simply can’t do it. I am so proud of those in my life who can and whose brain works in the way that learning about science gives them serotonin, but that is just not Hannah Baxer. Without the labs and the excessive note taking (please don’t forget my major can be hard, too) I had the time to pick up a nannying job three times a week. And that brings me to my next point.
I hold the position of “pro-piggy backer,” of elite apple-cutter and champion of UNO. I am thee nanny of a set of identical twin boys, who are five-years-old and who have changed my life without a doubt. It’s not just a job for me, like boring lifeguarding was when I was in high school, wishing my time would go by faster. Looking after these boys is something I look forward to, and something I undoubtedly love. I am their captain of the playground pirate ship, but also the first person they debriefed to after their long tiring days of pre-school. I look at them through my rear-view mirror, seeing wrinkly eyes from their smiles hiding behind their green and blue masks. They always make sure to fill me in on all the puzzles they had successfully completed and all the super cool new animal species they had just memorized that day.
Reading. I adored reading to the boys. Harold And The Purple Crayon, The Little Old Lady Who Wasn’t Afraid of Anything and National Geographic. All of it. I adore having the chance to share that part of myself with their little selves: my love of books and the stories they tell. My major is who I am, I am truly passionate about words on beige slips of paper that connect you, in a way, to ancient Greek gods, to Dr. Seuss and to the two little boys who I share most of my afternoons. I beam when I see their elated faces after reading aloud what part of the story they knew was, “going to surprise me.” I live for being cozy with them on the couch, both dressed in space ship pajamas, waiting for me to tell them what happens to Max at the end of Where the Wild Things Are. For the rest of my life, I want to see that light in a child’s eyes when I can help them learn to read and write, and when I can share with them the power a story book truly holds.
I am so very proud to be an English Major. It has reminded me who I am, a girl who loves a story and who wants to be able to help others see the beauty of the world through a page. I truly think that’s the beauty and purpose of college. We go into it thinking of others. “I will be an English teacher to help students learn,” “I will be a nurse to save lives,” “I will be a chemist to cure cancer.” But in the end, amongst all the exams and essays and successes, we find ourselves and our studies make us see the beauty in what we are passionate about. For ourselves. We all have our thing that truly lights us up, whether it be science, art or even math. I’m thankful every day that I know mine and that in every corner of my nearest future I will be inspired to share that.