With graduation right around the corner, there’s one thing everyone you come into contact with is dying to know: “What are your post-undergrad plans?”
And I tend to tailor my response to whoever is asking.
It’s not that I don’t have a plan — but I don’t exactly have a plan, either. But I’m not panicking.
I can just feel the judgment coming my way after that confession, but judge away, friends.
I may not have exact post-graduation plans, but that doesn’t mean my growth as a functioning member of society is stunted. And you shouldn’t feel bad if you don’t have exact plans yet, either.
Let me give you the rundown on how I ended up at UF. In retrospect, it all seems kind of funny.
During my senior year of high school, I applied to one college: The U.S. Merchant Marine Academy. When I decided it wasn’t for me, my only other options were to take time off or go to community college.
I chose the latter because even though I wasn’t sure what career I wanted to pursue, I knew I wanted to be in school.
I enrolled in Miami-Dade College, and I took classes every semester from August 2009 to July 2011. I dabbled in everything from geology to film photography, creative writing, acting and trigonometry (who did I think I was?) all while working. When I’d earned my associates degree, it was time to apply for colleges again.
I started the process the way I do most things: by making a list. This particular list was of colleges with journalism programs I was interested in. Originally, UF was not on it.
I’d sworn off state schools long ago, a high-hat move for a Hispanic girl who grew up in a single-parent home with four siblings, but Florida was my least favorite place. I hated the thought of having to stay here if I could help it.
I decided to apply to UF because it was my then-boyfriend’s top choice, and I wanted to give our two-year relationship a chance (I don’t believe in long distance).
I don’t remember how much time passed between when I submitted my application and when I heard back, but I’d forgotten I even applied.
My ex had accepted an offer from Rutgers, and I was planning on moving to New York to be close enough to Newark to be with this guy while establishing residency to qualify for in-state tuition at an art school in the city.
In my 19-year-old head, it made so much sense. My relationship was important to me, and since I’d moved away from New York during my elementary school years, it’d been my dream to move back.
Then one Saturday afternoon, I checked an email account I’d gone a little too long without checking (a habit I’ve since corrected because journalism) and saw an email from UF. I’d been admitted.
That very Saturday, I was in a fight with the significant other I’d been planning to move away with, and I took UF’s acceptance letter as a sign.
I didn’t share it with anyone at the time because I didn’t realize it right away, but my mind was made up.
At the end of summer, I moved from Miami to Gainesville into an apartment with three strangers, and two days after that, I started at UF.
I was an hour early for my first class, international relations in Anderson Hall, and I remember tweeting at 7:30 a.m., “This place is straight out of ‘Dead Poets Society.’”
Fast forward three years, and I’m preparing to graduate.
During my time at UF, I’ve learned so much. Despite any frustrations I may voice now and then, I know I’ve received some of the best journalism training in the country.
From having taken reporting three times to having paid about $700 for a financial accounting class I mistakenly ended up enrolled in, I wouldn’t take any of it back. OK, maybe that $700.
Regardless, to say I’ve had a blast is an understatement. If there’s one thing about journalism I’ll always love it’s the constant change, so to have a lack of set plans post-graduation isn’t an affliction: It’s an adventure.
After all, plans don’t always work out the way you imagine.
[Marjorie Nunez is a UF journalism senior. Her column appears on Fridays. A version of this column ran on page 7 on 4/18/2014 under the headline "No post-graduation plans for this senior yet, but it’s OK"]
