What I Gained From Wilkes

I have no intention of this blog becoming fully about the Peace Corps. Who's to say I'll even get in and this will all work out? I've seen what it's like to keep putting all of my eggs into one basket, then later discovering the hole I neglected to notice when the egg-piling began. But I feel that this one is worth mentioning, so mention I will.

When I started telling people about my decision to apply, I had some reactions that I was expecting. My mother, for instance, was confused and against the idea. She didn't want her "little boy" to be in a strange country for two years, and suggested for the one billionth time that I move home. That way, she rationalized, I could live there for free and dedicate my time to a volunteer service in the United States, like Habitat for Humanity or Landscaping for Love (which is a fake charity consisting of me mowing my mom's lawn every week). Another reaction I expected was from my best friend, who said that expanding horizons and helping others were some of the most worthwhile things you could do for yourself and others. So I knew some people would be on-board, and others would be on the deck waving for me to get off of the boat.

But some reactions, as positive as you expect them to be, can exceed expectations. This is what happened when I visited the Wilkes University campus. I had gone to play the catch-up game with one of my favorite professors, a game that I feel as though I'm playing every day since graduation. Sitting down with Dr. B., I felt a small pang in my heart. Not necessarily one of longing, although that was a part of it. But also one of unfamiliarity. Since May, the majority of the business department has moved into a new building and, as such, now inhabit new offices. It was such a surreal feeling to be talking with a woman I had talked to many times over the years in a completely new surrounding. It felt as though everything I had done in the past four years had been boxed up and put away, and every once in a while it was brought out to be remembered, but nothing was the same. Like a bus driver who drove the same route for years, but the school district changed and he had to pick up new kids on different streets. He was taking students to the same place, but doing it in totally new ways and seeing totally different scenery along the way. I was gone, but not forgotten - people just needed a small reminder that I still existed.

I sometimes liken my life to a sitcom. During the first few seasons, the cast consisted of the family unit, with reoccurring characters like the wacky neighbors or the aunt and uncle or the old family friends that come to town stopping in from time to time. As I got older, the show's setting shifted from home to school, with the cast changing to an equal amount of friends and family. As the show entered the "College Years," where most shows flounder and eventually die, mine just started to pick up. The storylines got better. The cast comprised of more consistent characters, and people who were main characters become reduced to mere cameos. As I enter the new season, the post-college-graduate season, the vast majority of these characters never make an appearance, aside from a few reunion specials, where the same gags are done but some of the magic is lost. There is a brand-new character filling the "Best Friend" role, and the family unit is popping up in more episodes. But the most surprising episode so far this season must be the one where main character (a.k.a. me) stumbles onto his old Alma Matter and finds himself lost and confused.

But as much as the locations may have changed, the people remain the same caring, genuine souls they always were. I went from office to office that day, telling old teachers and advisers about my recent decision to dedicate myself to others. And the first words out of all of their mouths were "That's great," and "I think the Peace Corps is the right place for you." But this was always - and I mean ALWAYS - followed by "Do you need a recommendation?" That's what really got me. That these college professors, with all they had to do with their careers and hectic lives, would stop and take the time to help me out. I never asked a single one of them. They all willingly offered their services. That is why I cherish my time at Wilkes. My friend is in the nursing program at LCCC, and we have a joke that even though I went to a "real" college, she'll have a pretty-much guaranteed position when she gets her two-year degree and I had such a difficult time finding work when I graduated with a Bachelor's. But the relationships I had, and still have, with my educators is worth a million-dollar career to me. And I wouldn't give that up for anything.