I sit here and I see the envelope from my alma mater. Within that envelope is my Associate's Degree, Aviation Maintenance Technology. I know I should feel special, accomplished, educated, proud... but what I really feel is discontent.
All of my life I have learned of the value of that piece of paper before me. I do not disagree with the arguments. Yes, as a graduate of a degree I will earn more money, but I still have to pay for it.
This was a costly degree, and so is the Bachelor's Degree I am currently seeking. The Associate's degree put me into debt. The Bachelor's is putting me further into debt.
I have spent the few 'low-income' scholarships I did qualify for, for simply being broke. I have applied for many others... most of which, I have learned, competitors' were written by Master's degree holders on the behalf of the entry-level college students (an act that is eligible for disbarment). My applications, and the required research papers, were written by me, from my own experience, research, and [lack of] education. I was not educated in the art of cheating.
It hurts me greatly to know that many of the kind-hearted individuals I know, and call my alumni, and friends, will have greater financial success because they don't have huge college loans like I do.
I guess this is a lesson to me: it really doesn't matter who you know, or even who you blow, the lesson is exactly what we learn from politics....
"The one who dies with the most money wins."
I gave up on money a long time ago. I had money once, and all I did was snort it up my nose. I had a job I hated, in an industry I didn't like; but they paid me a lot of money to be miserable. How often do you hear of a 24-year-old making $70 grand a year and can't make his $350 per month mortgage payment? Yeah, I was that guy. My paycheck went up my nose, or down my neck - for a few years before life happened.
...
When I arrived at the front door of Spartan College of Aeronautics and Technology, I only had what I came with: me, my Dusty-dog, and what I could fit for the both of us in my little Isuzu Rodeo... we drove nearly 1300 miles on the hopes of what that Spartan recruiter had promised. I was just more than 90-days clean of coke.
Before I left North Carolina, I was promised a place to live, and a job that paid a minimum of $8.50 per hour.
Spartan did, in fact, find me a place to live. I could have never made the application fees, let alone the deposits required! But Spartan didn't pay them. The fees and deposits were thanks to the parents of my never-before-seen roommate. We met that day, in the clubhouse. They footed my bill. To this day, I will never understand why they took that leap of faith on me - the mess I was.
Zach and I were not only phenomenal roommates, we were best friends. We are still close to this very day. My financial debt to his parents has been squared, but I am still in debt... and probably always will be.
Spartan promised me a place to live and a job that paid a dollar above minimum wage. Somehow I am lauded with blessings from the Breyne family. Perhaps, on that hot day, my Dusty waiting in the running truck had something to do with that decision to pay my leasing fees; perhaps the bit of life experience I had to offer had something to do with nothing. I am not asking their reasons, nor do I wish to know them. I am proud to have been accepted in the situation.
I picked up all that I could carry, the nearest and dearest things to my heart, my Dusty first. We left a lot of friends. A lot of family. The distance separates us now, but that distance is easier to surpass than a simple apology.
Dusty isn't here any more. I lost him over two years ago. But my alumni are. My friends are. My family are. And just like me and my Dusty, we are forever intertwined... and we will be forever.
But here we are, tens of thousands of dollars in debt. Countless jobs I lost out on because the other guy had a piece of paper. I have a piece of paper too, now. But I am going to have to live the next ten years in near poverty to pay for that piece of paper. I will be over forty years old before I can start planning for retirement. A typical retirement plan needs 25-40 years to mature.... then I will be in my late 60's.
So, I can go on to a job I hate for a company I don't like. Pay my loans and be miserable til I'm in my 40's... just so I can start 'putting away' for my retirement? Screw that. I'd rather be happy than broke any day.
I'm right back where I started. Fuckit... just transfer it all to my Mastercard and leave it there... you can collect when I'm dead.... I don't intend to pay while I'm living... I'm here to pay you for the privilege of life...
I've always wanted to try skydiving, hang gliding, landing a 757 without training, scuba diving, underwater welding, taking a motorcycle across the Blue Ridge Parkway, drink a Guinness beer in Dublin, stomp grapes in Romania...
I may never know my what my purpose is in life... but I know what it isn't.
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