Today is the deadline for my grad school application. I just called the history department and they said as long as my contact info for my letters of reference is up to speed, I don’t have to do anything and they’ll do the follow-up if one of my letters isn’t received. I’m naturally going to go back and double check the contact info but that is literally the only thing left to do.
Now the long wait. I hear they take a while to process these and they won’t start until after the deadline. Then if I can get in, funding will be another matter to worry about but it’s an issue I can work around.
I could soon become the first in my immediate family and the second in my extended family to get a postgrad education; everyone else either got in on a good job back when it was easier to become a professional with only a high school diploma or 2-year degree, went into the military where it wasn’t vitally important to have an advanced degree, or married someone with a good job so they didn’t have to bother finishing high school. Now I face a job market glutted with BAs and with military service and OTR trucking not really options, I’m going forward not so much with my head held high as feeling a bit between a rock and a hard place.
This is also the first lifetime I’m aware of that I’ve gotten this far as an academic. It’s thrilling, but also terrifying. I can’t tell most of my classmates, peers, and professors the truth, that I owe my direction to past life memories of the 12th century. What would they say? Maybe I’ll admit it once I’ve got something to show for my skills as a researcher. Maybe once my qualifications speak for themselves and I’m set for life (if that ever happens) and someone asks me how I got into this, I can admit it was a mystical experience; until then, I’ve got everything to prove.