Two years ago, I started the Master of Arts in English at Georgia State University. Two months later, I dropped out and didn’t looked back until I saw a well-dressed woman at Kroger back in May wearing a sticker that said, “Proud GA State grad!” I had just finished a long day of work at the clinic and I was wearing workout clothes, buying vegan gummy bears and non-vegan yogurt. In another life, I would have been wearing a similar dressy outfit and a sticker of my own. I really thought that I would be 26 years old with an “M.A.” after my name. This summer, I would be preparing to enter a Ph.D. program, and voila–I would be a doctor at age 30! I dropped out because I didn’t care about English anymore. I cared about activism and choice and personal time, and I still do, and I hope that at age 30, I still will.

I lived with three amazing women in college. We lived together every year we could and we were inseparable. We had different backgrounds and priorities and we were fiercely loyal to each other and to social justice and to education. Thanks to the magic of Facebook, we are now planning a 2010 reunion since we haven’t been all together since the first two of the crew graduated in 2004. The Facebook group we established is already serving as a mini-reunion, though, a repository for alumni magazine-style blurbs. It turns out, two of us are married, two of us have masters degrees, one of us is about to start a masters degree, one of us lives in Memphis, one in Chicago, one in Norfolk, and one in Atlanta, we have new cars, new partners, and new plans. And by “us,” I mean that I am not married, I don’t have plans to continue my education, I only live 35 miles from where I grew up, I have the same car that I got at age 18, and the same job since January 2007 with no plans to change that. I think I’m the odd one out, and I’m actually OK with that. In the group, I also mentioned that my brother, my little brother, my 5-years-younger brother will graduate from college in the spring, and he will continue on to grad school. A few years ago, I know I said that I would delay my studies as long as my younger brother didn’t make it to grad school before I did. And yet, here we are, and here I am: Grateful that I don’t have to write papers or sit in a classroom, dedicated to the work I do and to my unorthodox yoga education plans, and snakry/honest enough to say that it’s about time for my brother to be a trail blazer without having an older sister to lead the way.

As we all know, I’m not going to my high school reunion, but it’s not because I don’t feel accomplished. I finally DO feel accomplished, and I know that because I’m genuinely happy for my amazing former roommates, and I’m eager to share my unique experiences with them. Even more, I’m looking forward for them, with their social justice and medical expertise, to share with me. That’s the kind of education i favor, and it’s the kind of reunion I can look forward to.