The Moment I Got My MFA

I hadn ’t expected to care that much about earning my Master of Fine Arts in creative writing degree. Sure, I felt pride for the two years I dedicated myself to the work. But, I didn’t think the three letters “MFA” on my résumé, the validation that I finished what I had started, or the brief cere mony at which I would wear the goofy “hood” would matter to me.When the thirteen of us went backstage at Freeport High School on the night of Saturday, January 13, to dress in our academic regalia, my heart rate began rising. It wasn ’t even related to the Eagles taking the lead over the Falcons. In fact, for probably the first time in my life, an NFL Playoff game was being played and it didn’t enter my awareness. I looked around the spacious and brightly lit room at my friends to whom I’d become so close. Some were dressi ng while others were already dressed and snapping selfies. All were smiling. That’s the thing about occasions that are bittersweet: the joy is overpowering until the end when the pain takes over.I had been wrong about this ceremony not mattering to me.Jan. 13 at the Freeport Performing Arts Center at Freeport High School. Photo by Nikki Sambitsky.Minutes later, we lined in alphabetical order. I had the honor of squeezing between Irish and Rollerbitch, whose husband was in the crowd on the other side of the curtain we were facing. “He put up with so much over the last two years,” Rollerbitch said.She and I hugged. I would have said his...
Source: cancerslayerblog - Category: Cancer & Oncology Tags: a day in my life life lessons MFA Source Type: blogs