Longing For School

Yesterday, August 25, 2022, was the thirteenth anniversary of when Edward Moore Kennedy, Senator of Massachusetts for forty-seven years, brother of the late President John F. Kennedy (1917-1964), New York Senator Robert F. Kennedy (1925-1968), and Ambassador Jean Kennedy Smith (1928-2020), died at the age of seventy-seven in the year of 2009. I wanted to go pay my respects when he lay in state at the John F. Kennedy Presidential Library and Museum, but I was unable to go. At that time, I was going through a very dark period in my life since I had recently dropped out of school when I was in my early twenties. I had wanted to meet Senator Kennedy when he was alive. After all, he had witnessed memorable events in history, was acquainted with ten presidents since he entered the senate and was the youngest sibling of his family’s generation.    

Yesterday was also Move-In Day at Harvard University, in which the incoming first- year students would move to campus during the last two weeks of August. This also made me feel sad as well because I remembered being a young college student looking forward to the future and now, I feel as though I am wasted potential. I wish I was in their shoes because at least they have promising futures ahead of them whereas mine seems to be behind me. Because of this, I am going to write what is going to be a personal blog entry because I’m going to talk about something that has been bothering me for years. Several years ago, I dropped out of school because of a combination of different factors. To summarize, I didn’t have enough money, I didn’t work hard enough as a student, and the fault is my own. I can’t gloss over my failures. If I had worked harder, I would have gotten a lot more accomplished. As a result, I’m in a stage in which I’m trapped in a situation I don’t know how to get out of.

When I first entered college as a first-year student at the age of twenty, I was scared because I was bullied at high school, and I didn’t know how if I was going to experience that again. I was also very shy and timid. However, to my surprise I became popular on campus over the course of three years. I took up an interest in politics and I was encouraged to pursue that career by both professors and students. I used to listen to the speeches of John F. Kennedy, Martin Luther King, and Bill Clinton to memorize what they said to quote them, learned techniques of how they spoke effectively, and took inspiration from their words. My nickname on campus was “Mr. President” and would often times shake people’s hands in the same way a politician would when they were campaigning for office. I was friendly to everyone, although a few times it was not always reciprocated. Despite this, for the first time in my life, I felt loved and appreciated because among my own relatives I was seen as an outcast because I wanted to engage in a higher level of discussion and was interested in subjects that were intellectually stimulating. On the campus of the university I attended, I felt as though I belonged, appreciated, and that I had a future to look forward to.

I loved school so much that I hated going home for the holidays or summer break because I felt trapped among my small-minded relatives. Each time I had to return to my hometown, I felt isolated and lonely. I couldn't wait to return to campus. I have to say that I also miss the diversity of thought at the university and people’s readiness to express themselves. That's one thing I'm starving for here, an outlet to really chew on ideas and learn in a peer centered setting. I miss sharing ideas and building on them. Learning from my peers helped me to see that there was a world outside of my hometown and of the university waiting to be explored. I had dreamed of graduating from school (which was supposed to take place in 2010), traveling to different places and different countries like Rome, Italy, and meeting with and having a photo op with President Obama in the Oval Office of the White House among other dignitaries. Even the tough days were good days for me because I felt that I still had a future.

The greatest day of my college life took place on December 2, 2008, when I got to meet with Senator John Kerry of Massachusetts. He came to my college that evening to talk about the economy, in a setting much like a Town Hall Meeting. Before he arrived, I asked a friend named Meagan, who happened to have a camera to take a picture of me and the Senator. She said that she would. Senator Kerry then arrived at 6:30pm to the sound of applause. I thought "Oh my goodness, it's really him." After the mayor introduced him, he then stepped forward to speak and spoke for about an hour. Then he took about 5 or 6 questions from the audience. He mentioned that he had to go to Charleston for another event, so he had to leave. In my mind I said, "You're not leaving until I get picture with you, mister." When the meeting ended, I noticed the crowd was going through the front entrance so there wasn't a lot of people around Kerry. As he was stepping through the doorway to leave, I shouted "Senator!" He looked up. Then made my way toward and then I said in a lower voice, "I'm actually down here.” When I finally got his attention, I then said, "Senator, I know that you have to leave right away, but could I please have a picture taken with you." "Oh sure," he said. I then took his hand and motioned for Meagan to take the picture. When she did take the picture, Senator Kerry then said to me, "Good luck in school." "Thank you, Sir." I replied as we shook hands once more. Then he was gone.

I was beaming for the rest of the school year, I couldn't believe I shook hands with the same person who debated George W. Bush, sailed with John F. Kennedy, worked with Ted Kennedy, campaigned with Bill Clinton, and campaigned for Barack Obama and he was right in front of me in person. I was honored and fortunate to have that picture taken him. The next day, I watched jib-jab videos of "This Land," and YouTube videos of his speeches and debates with President Bush and I still couldn't believe it was him. Some people mentioned to me that because of this, I was even more determined to go into politics. They may have been right. I was at the peak of my happiness, and they were the happiest years of my twenties, but it did not last.

I often procrastinated and waited until the last moment to do my homework. I was attentive to the courses I liked and was indifferent to those I didn't care for. I was also focused on my social life at the school because I liked the positive attention I was getting from the students, and I was subconsciously filling a void of feeling unloved from my relatives. These are no excuses. As a result, I was put on academic probation and eventually with no more money for school, I had to drop out. I was devastated and I wanted to die in that moment because I knew of the consequences of the difficulties of finding enjoyable employment and the climb to get back to school would be as insurmountable as attempting to climb Mount Everest. It hurts more because I know I could have done better, and things could have been different. I should have focused more on my studies rather than deluding myself by fantasizing about being a great man remembered and loved at last throughout history. I know now that if I worked harder, I would have gotten a lot more accomplished.

Over the years, I attended forums and lectures on my days off from working at my dead-end job as a dishwasher. During these times, I had the privilege of meeting three governors of my home state, two senators, two mayors, two congressional representatives, two ambassadors, one prime-minister of another country (at Harvard University of all places), four presidential candidates, and had even received a letter from President Obama in early 2017. Attending these lectures and meeting these dignitaries made me feel as though I were back in school, intellectually stimulated, and helped me to briefly cope with the fact that I was a college drop out. Those were rare moments of triumph and happiness. However, I still felt inadequate in comparison to my former college friends who had now moved on with their lives. I felt like a fraud for crafting an image of success on Facebook with my photo ops while friends were assuming that I had a career in politics, which is what I wish I was doing all this time.

Now almost a decade later after reluctantly leaving school, I moved closer to the Boston area of Massachusetts where my college friends invited me to move out here to start over, look for better jobs in the area, and eventually find my way back to school. However, after all this time, I’m still stuck in the same situation with no money to continue and fewer prospects. Each day I seem to think I have no future and often wonder whether I should end my existence. I don’t want to have an aimless life working at dead end jobs for the ungrateful. The fact is I don’t want to live like this anymore. I want to go back to school more than anything.

What’s worse is that I have been subconsciously torturing myself for not finishing school. I live four miles from the campus of Harvard University where many notable people, including eight Presidents of the United States, have graduated from. Sometimes my intentions would be to go there to find peace and be surrounded by history, prestige, and to be intellectually stimulated. Lately, it became a place for me to mourn over my failures and of hoping to die if things don’t improve. It has become a place that I love and hate at the same time because it is everything that I wanted and yet am not allowed to be part of. I remember one weekday afternoon on a day I had off from work, I had just completed a job interview near the campus. I was walking on Harvard Yard, and I saw a group of students sitting a circle of chairs with a professor leading the discussion. I wanted to at least sit near them, take notes, and learn from the lecture, but I knew I would not be welcome as I was not a student there. I then went to another area at the campus and saw students eating together inside the Harvard Kennedy School and saw the comradery that made me wish I was 15 years younger, a lot more intelligent, and being a part of their community. I soon had to walk away because I was hurt from seeing what I could not be a part of. I then went to a private area on the campus where no one would see me and cried bitterly.

On another visit one Friday night in the springtime, I walked a little more than four miles from my apartment to Harvard Yard because I could not sleep. I went to exhaust myself and contemplate over the state of my life. When I got there, there were students hanging out together near the statue of John Harvard even though it was past 2:00 in the morning. I sat on the steps of Harvard Memorial Church, looked across to the Widener Library taking in the night scenery, and brooding bitterly over the state of my life. I noticed a young couple walking hand in hand up the steps of the library across from me. They soon began to laugh and chase each other up and down the stairs. I became more aware of my loneliness since I have never been married (or even had a girlfriend) and I also mourned over the fact that I could never open my heart to someone because of the emotional wounds that I carry within me. After some hours of sitting down and silently weeping, I finally walked back to my apartment emotionally drained, dehydrated, and defeated.

This was a difficult blog entry to write because it took me several times to complete. I believe it is because I had to face myself and my failures honestly for the first time in a public blog entry. I also had some fears that my future employers would see this blog entry and refuse to consider me for a position either in government, classroom, or in a museum and/or university. However, I needed this outlet to try to gain control of my emotions and to try to improve my mental health. In re-reading this, I feel that I have failed to fully articulate my sadness over this issue. I may return to edit this blog entry from time to time to order to better articulate my thoughts.

More than anything, I want to return to school to finish what I began, learn from the mistakes I made, redeem the time that I wasted, and finally graduate and move on with my life. Even if I do return, there will be some difficulties. One particular difficulty will be in connecting with other students since I will be considerably much older, but a positive outcome from it is that I will be able focus more on my studies. I will feel lonely though, but that will be the price I have to pay. I hope that by the time I do return, things will become much easier, and I will know what to do upon the completion of my studies. I am still hoping to be a historian, like one of my heroes David McCullough, write and publish at least nine books or more. I also hope that maybe I’ll get to meet some presidents and world leaders along the way.

And so, with all of this said, I don’t really know how to conclude this blog entry. After some searching, I decided to use some words from a speech that Senator Edward M. Kennedy made at the John F. Kennedy School of Government, located in Harvard University on October 25, 1991, in which he acknowledged his failures and promised to do better in the future. If he could do his best to redeem himself as he endured tragedy and faced his own struggles, maybe I could redeem myself as well. He knew what it was like to be humiliated, to suffer, underestimated, and to be considered the least, even within his own family. His story of redemption is one that I could look to for inspiration to become a better version of myself than I was before. I am grateful that he lived and that he was Senator of my home state.

He said, "Individual faults and frailties are no excuse to give in and no exemption from the common obligation to give of ourselves. I feel a special obligation to those who share my hopes for this state and nation who in the past have given me their help, and often even their hearts. My views on some issues that made some people angry over the years and frankly, I accept that as the price of fighting hard for my beliefs and I am painfully aware that the criticism directed at me in recent months involves far more than honest disagreements with my positions, or the usual criticisms from the far right, it also involves the disappointment of friends and many others who rely on me to fight the good fight. To them I say: I recognize my own shortcomings -- the faults in the conduct of my private life. I realize that I alone am responsible for them, and I am the one who must confront them. Today more than ever before, I believe that each of us as individuals must not only struggle to make a better world, but to make ourselves better, too and in this life, those endeavors are never finished."