I would be hard-pressed to think of a scarier time in my adult life than when I decided to quit my job and go back to school. Maybe the first time I watched The Babadook, or one of the many movies about exorcisms: I love horror, but I startle very easily. Still, certainly the scariest non-supernatural moment I’ve experienced was abruptly halting my life to finally – after eight years away from academia – complete my Bachelor of Arts in English.

Perhaps the most difficult aspect of going back to school was acknowledging how much of my life I would be blowing up and walking away from. In my six years working for a distributor sales company, I had built a fairly comfortable life for myself: I had a decent apartment, I could travel on occasion, and I had chipped away a good chunk of my monstrous student loans from my first catastrophic attempt at higher education. The job wasn’t fulfilling, and in fact, I often came home burnt-out from the pressure of meeting monthly sales goals. But, after dropping out of Dowling College with no initial job prospects, I still felt lucky to even have a job.

My collegiate history was also cause for consternation. I was generally directionless during my time at Hofstra, Suffolk Community, and Dowling, and my grades showed it. Not to mention that I changed my major many times: film, music business, history, foreign language, and finally, elementary education. It took me far too long to conclude that I should pursue a life-long love of mine, literature.

When I was an undergraduate the first time around, there was also always something to do that wasn’t school work, whether it be playing in bands, performing in the theater department, ::cough:: training as a professional wrestler ::cough::! Truly, there were just so many typical early-20’s social obligations. Could I really trust myself to not fall into that trap again?

It didn’t matter, really. I was stuck at a job that I hated, and without a bachelor’s degree, the prospect of finding a new career was almost non-existent. I was inspired enough to actively improve my life, no matter how difficult. So in August of 2016, at 29 years of age, I enrolled as a full-time student at Suffolk County Community College, and I began my journey as a non-traditional student.

SCCC offered me a chance to acclimate myself to being a full-time student again: I re-learned time-management skills and how to write an English paper. It’s perhaps a little bizarre to hear that a person like myself, who’s now one semester away from completing an English degree, had an incredible amount of difficulty writing papers. Yet, I struggled mightily in my first go-’round in school, and I struggled at first upon my return as well. I had developed some bad habits. It’s the people-pleaser in me, and something that actually benefited me during my sales career: I do my best to see both sides of an argument, so when it comes time to write an argumentative essay, I struggle with taking a stance. However, SCCC’s English faculty, in particular Professor Mark Bourdeau, spent a great deal of time helping me develop this skill. The time I spent picking Professor Bourdeau’s brain during office hours was invaluable to my academic success, and I no longer freeze-up when it’s time to write a five-to-seven-page paper. I know students hear it all the time, but seriously: take advantage of office hours! The professors want to help you. I wouldn’t have gotten into Stony Brook without going to them!

Clearly I was very excited to finally be a Seawolf.

After an invaluable year at Suffolk, both for the experience and to boost my GPA, it was finally time to join a four-year program at our very own Stony Brook University. This may not feel like a huge accomplishment for traditional students, which is completely understandable, but for me this felt tremendous. I had vanquished the “Ghosts of Semesters Past,” and made good on the promise I made to myself to be a model student this time around.

But there was still plenty of schooling left. Stony Brook has had its own set of challenges, too. Writing ten-to-twelve-page papers was not something I was accustomed to, but again, the faculty was there to help, and they were more than happy to walk me through the process of building an argument using academic journals.

Many people have asked me what the most difficult thing about returning to school is, and my answer really doesn’t have much to do with school. What I struggle the most with is trying to maintain a social life while spending most of my time in a space designed for people significantly younger than me. Weddings, dinner dates, and things of that nature are not only expensive, but often occur on nights and weekends, times when I’m usually working or studying. Luckily, the time-management tools I picked up during my first semester have helped me map out what school work I should be doing when, and I’ve managed to stay in-touch with my friends and family members who have typical nine-to-fives.

One thing I did not expect to happen during my time at Stony Brook was connecting with any of my fellow students in a meaningful way. It’s not that I was opposed to it, but when there’s a certain age gap, it’s sometimes difficult to establish common ground. I grew up with the first generation of Pokemon, and they’re up to seven! I had “Stone Cold” Steve Austin and the Undertaker, and they have Roman Reigns and a bag of mushy flesh that somewhat resembles the Undertaker.

Stony Brook Ultimate’s B-Team at St. John’s University, May 2018.

So, it was to my surprise that joining the Ultimate Frisbee team, just one thing for me to do with the little free time I had, has allowed me to develop friendships with a ton of great people. We connect because of our mutual love for a niche sport, and no one thinks twice when they find out how old I am. Perhaps it’s because I don’t look 31 (thanks for the genes, Mom), but I like to think that Ultimate draws a certain type of warm, welcoming person. Building these relationships over the past year has been an incredibly pleasant surprise, and an added benefit of returning to school.

A very small part of me wants to say that the past two years as a returning, non-traditional student has been a real struggle for me. It makes it seem like a bigger accomplishment, I suppose, and obstructs the fact that I should  have completed my degree nearly a decade ago. But that’s not really what happened. The initial decision to return was scary, yes, and I’ve hit a few bumps along the way, but I’m so glad I made this decision, and it’s been such a wonderful, rewarding experience, that I’ve barely noticed the times in which I have struggled. Being a non-traditional student isn’t glamorous, but I’m proud of everything I’ve done over the past two years.