In packing to leave school for the summer, I put together another 3 inch binder full of my English papers from the school year (I filled the first one up with high school papers my Senior year). To have them collected and available just makes my life a sunnier place somehow. I went to take a picture of it so I could write this, and realized it, too, is sitting in a closet at my grandparents' house. See you in the fall, beautiful thing.
But I decided to write anyway. Just before school ended, I decided to switch my major from English Education to plain English. I know the current esteem of English majors is something along the lines of this:
But, say what you will haters. My lit teacher told us a story that I really liked. A professor he once knew had a young student come to her and ask her, "I don't know what to think. Everyone is telling me something different. Should I make English my major?" She knew all the ups and downs and advantages and disadvantages involved, but knew exactly what to ask him: "Are you in love?" Those who know the major know that only those in love with English ever succeed.
This was a great comfort to me, and I don't think it's coincidence I've called English my "first love" before. I don't know why I'm supposed to do it, but I have a feeling I'm going to be very happy.
Oh, Young Love
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1 comment:
sounds like fun, I love English too! and good for you for going for what you love! I had a stupid boyfriend at BYU who always made fun of me for being an anthropology major, said it was so impractical. stupid boy.
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