London is only a few days away now, and I am anxious! But some good news arrived in my inbox on Friday that has temporarily set that anxiety on the back burner. I have been selected to participate in the ISEP Voices blogger program! ISEP is the company through which I am studying abroad with, and they have an amazing opportunity that allows students to share their experiences. They selectively pick diverse and underrepresented voices to write about their study abroad journey. They also provide professional mentoring and guidance to help you grow as a writer. I am so honored to be given this opportunity, and I hope I can do them justice.
If you just came to read about the good news feel free to skip to the bottom by the pictures where I go into more detail about the program. But in order to fully understand why I am so excited you need some background. Now, of course, I am excited that I was picked, but this excitement goes deeper. This excitement is an affirmation. Flashback to high school when I was completely on the Nursing degree track. My entire life, I had never considered any other careers outside of the medical field. In 2nd grade, I said I want to be 'anesologist' (anesthesiologist). In high school, I took more science and math classes than humanities, and everything I did was in service to get me to med school. Nearly every Nursing program requires a CNA license, so my senior year I spent every Saturday at my local community college training to getting my license which I got that summer. My last few weeks of senior year, I was juggling my CNA rounds and prom. CNA rounds are tough emotionally and physically. Working 4:00 pm-1:00 am and then going to school the next day was hard and I even broke down in my AP Literature class because the night before I experienced my first death and was frankly exhausted. The fact English was my favorite subject and expressing my doubts about medicine should have tipped me off that maybe this path wasn't right or at least wasn't going to be as simple as I imagined. Kids, this is what we call foreshadowing.
But I was determined not to lose the spark and went into college with a pre-Nursing degree. I picked my college solely based on nursing and thought being with like-minded students would keep me motivated. It turned out I was nothing like my classmates. Getting into the Nursing program is competitive as there are limited spots, and everyone, including myself, sees you as a threat to their chances, so making friends in pre-Nursing is hard. I also found I was into different things then they were which was no one's fault, I just hadn't my people yet. Again, foreshadowing. I worked incredibly hard to get the grades. I ended up getting all A's my first semester of college and felt pretty stable in my life choices. Then came winter break. To keep a new CNA license, you need to work eight hours within six months of obtaining the license and then it is valid for two years. I wasn't going to apply to the nursing program for another year, so it was essential to get those hours. I was not able to work in the summer since I got my license in August, right before school and no one would hire me for just one week, so I had to wait for winter break. I amazingly got a job and began work the very next day.
Context, I was working during the week of Christmas, the nursing/hospice facility was understaffed, and I was 19. I walked in on December 22, ready for my 12-hour shift. Immediately I was thrown into the deep end. CNA rounds, while I was training, was hard, but at least someone was telling me what to do. I was on my own. I had 13 residents, and two passed away on my first day.There is nothing like being new and having to call a Code Blue (cardiac arrest) in the first hour of your first shift. Also, people lash out when they are hurting or lonely, and while I know they aren't actually saying these things to me personally, it still really hurts. I hadn't grown the tough skin of my colleagues, and I wondered if I ever would. So when I got home that night, I cried. CNA school teaches you how to feed and dress a person, but it does not teach you how to deal with death and being yelled at. But I had the next day off, so I had a chance to calm down and regroup. Everyone's first day at a job is tough, and it was simply growing pains. On December 24, I walked back in, and while I was taking out the trash, I had the dawning realization that I was not suited to this job or any job in medicine. The dirty work did not bother me. In my two days, I had gotten every type of bodily fluid on me, and I was completely fine. Helping people was deeply rewarding, but those moments are incredibly rare. The human suffering was too much and outweighed any sense of satisfaction I got from the job. Knowing that you, a virtual stranger, are the last person someone sees before they die and not their family is truly the most tragic realization. Knowing that someone is experiencing unimaginable pain, and there is nothing you can do is crushing. I started panicking and hyperventilating in the small employee bathroom. At that moment, I knew I had to change majors and get away from this career path as fast as I could. I could swallow these feeling and keep going, but I was and am sure I would have had a mid-life crisis in my 30s. I like fixing problems, but ongoing and unsolvable problems are my nemesis, and knowing human suffering will just keep going on with or without me just made my goals seem hopeless. Now I know it gets better as one moves up the ranks, but I couldn't see myself working for 20 years just to get to the point of being okay. I applaud everyone who can do their job in the medical field and have tremendous respect for them. When I got home, I sat down with my mom and told her. I was crying and still panicking. I could never imagine myself without science and medicine in my future. I felt like a piece of me died.
And so I changed majors that spring. I was still was taking pre-nursing classes because I thought maybe at some point, I would fall back in love with nursing. Nope, I just felt miserable. I was acting like I was still in the race, but I felt so fake. When it came to filling out the major form, English was what I ultimately settled on because I couldn't think of anything else. I was good at writing essays and reading books, so I made the snap decision. That semester I was depressed. I had no idea who the hell I was.
My sophomore year, I began taking English classes. I thought I would immediately feel at ease with my decision. Instead, I felt like an impostor, like who was I to be taking English classes? On top of that, I thought I was nothing like my classmates. They yearned to be fiction authors, work in publishing or be teachers. I wanted to be none of those things, but I wasn't sure what I did want to be. I found I liked writing extended thought essays and even considered scientific writing. I genuinely had no idea what I could do with an English degree and feared I would be jobless and be a waitress my whole life. I never thought I could mold my degree into what I wanted it to be.I was also unhelpfully told I did not seem like an English major and asked if I ever considered medicine as a career. I was also told Asians don't major in English, which was also nagging at me. Growing up, I only knew of one Asian author, Amy Tan, and couldn't imagine Asians being successful writers. Perhaps if I had seen more Asian representation, I would have considered a career in the humanities, but I only saw Asians in medicine or engineering, so I figured that's where I was supposed to be. So sophomore year was filled with doubt about this shift. I was still very depressed and considered changing my major to biology just to feel safe again.
Finally, in my junior year, I started to feel like English was right for me. I was taking classes that I could see myself in. Shakespeare and Romantic authors are a thrill to read, but I felt like I was reading someone else's story. My modernism class was the first time I was reading stories from and about immigrants, people on the fringe of society, and people of color. This was also around the time I was floating the idea of studying abroad. I thought if I was ever going to write good fiction or anything compelling like the authors I was reading, I needed to get out there and encounter instances that would make for an exciting read.
Well, I ended up being accepted to study abroad, and I began to consider the idea of working as a travel writer, but I wasn't sure how to go about this goal. During my summers, I have been incredibly fortunate to travel with my mom. I got to see the peaks of the Swiss Alps and the destruction of World War II. I experienced culture shock in Prague and ate marvelous seafood in Croatia. We traveled with Rick Steves tours, and despite always being the youngest person on the trip, I found a way to fit in. Those experiences taught me you can make friends anywhere and to find people with the same love of travel. I love the Rick Steves philosophy, and his books are helping me plan my study abroad excursions. I wanted to write for companies like his and help others travel. This world can be scary and feel like everything is falling apart, but I want to show people and get people out there to prove that there is still incredible beauty despite it all. Those trips left me wanting to
help and inspire other people to travel besides having pictures on
my Instagram.
When the chance to apply to be an ISEP Voices blogger arose, I immediately applied. While it is voluntary and unpaid, the benefits of growing a portfolio and gaining writing experience were too good to pass up. Additionally, I wanted to see if they would even accept me. I wanted to see if travel writing was something I could enjoy doing. I had applied to so many various writing positions and kept receiving rejection emails. I know rejection is par for the course with writing, but as someone who is just now reshaping their identity, it was especially hard. But when I was accepted to write for ISEP, I screamed. I couldn't believe it. For the first time, I felt like I made the right decision to change my major. For the first time, I could actually see myself as a writer. For the first time, I could see a career path. Now if my previous fiasco taught me anything, it is not to count my chickens before they have hatched. This could scare me off of travel writing forever and also this might not be the godsend I think it is, but right now it feels like the universe is sending me in the right direction and I am grateful. I have learned not to place my entire identity into a career, but I am cautiously optimistic about this opportunity.
I do not have a link for my ISEP blog page yet, but when I do, I will post it. My ISEP blog will be more how-to and travel advice. If you or anyone you know is or thinking about studying abroad through ISEP or studying abroad in general, that blog will be more useful and helpful. Even just traveling, that blog might be of some use.
Thank you for sticking around for my long-winded story about why this opportunity is so exciting and important. T-minus two days! Okay, the anxiety has returned. Upwards and onward!