In August 2022, I returned to graduate school after a decade away from collegiate study. When I graduated with my Master's degree in 2013, I swore I would never seek another degree. But after several years in the workforce, a pandemic lockdown, and a self-destructing journey as a self-published fantasy author, I knew I needed to find my way back into writing.
I applied to the UNO Creative Writing Workshop MFA program, and I asked to concentrate in poetry rather than in fiction, the genre I considered—at the time—my lifelong passion.
With only twelve hours of coursework (nearly) completed, I count this among the best decisions I've made.
Over the last year, I have read all the material assigned to me—an uncharacteristic feat, for those who knew me well in prior journeys through higher education (or secondary education) (or... primary... education...)—and I have spent hours writing and revising poems, plays, and response papers. I've completed all my work early rather than starting it late. I skipped out on fun times with friends and loved ones, and I spent approximately 180 hours in class rather than with my husband. (And, yes, unrelated, I did get married!) I have made new friends and rediscovered old obsessions.
More importantly, I have admitted to myself that I was always a poet. And though my full-time job means I can only attend classes part-time, though my first year amounted to a first semester for the traditional graduate student, I can sincerely admit that the six hours a week in class are often the best six hours of the week.
I love this. I hope I continue to love this.
And I am proud that I finally feel actively dedicated to what I am learning.
I applied to the UNO Creative Writing Workshop MFA program, and I asked to concentrate in poetry rather than in fiction, the genre I considered—at the time—my lifelong passion.
With only twelve hours of coursework (nearly) completed, I count this among the best decisions I've made.
Over the last year, I have read all the material assigned to me—an uncharacteristic feat, for those who knew me well in prior journeys through higher education (or secondary education) (or... primary... education...)—and I have spent hours writing and revising poems, plays, and response papers. I've completed all my work early rather than starting it late. I skipped out on fun times with friends and loved ones, and I spent approximately 180 hours in class rather than with my husband. (And, yes, unrelated, I did get married!) I have made new friends and rediscovered old obsessions.
More importantly, I have admitted to myself that I was always a poet. And though my full-time job means I can only attend classes part-time, though my first year amounted to a first semester for the traditional graduate student, I can sincerely admit that the six hours a week in class are often the best six hours of the week.
I love this. I hope I continue to love this.
And I am proud that I finally feel actively dedicated to what I am learning.
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