On Change

The past few years have been a product of educational, emotional and lifestyle change. Even so, sometimes I still feel exactly the same.

In August of 2007 I embarked on a journey to England, spending 3 and a half months there to study at a foreign university. I would know no one in a completely new place. This decision was probably the most therapeutic and life-changing choice I have ever made. Studying in England allowed me not only to explore myself in a completely fresh way, but also test my social skills, my study skills and examine who I was completely out of context of my previous life. In England I acquired some very close relationships with friends I still hold today. I developed study and focus skills I never knew possible.

In England certain habits arose. My closest friend, Brandy, and I developed a taste for chai tea and would meet in the hall kitchen several times a day to drink it. Staying up until 3am to talk with my friends and family back home became commonplace. Even when I had class the next morning. My sleeping habits were, to say the least, haphazard. I would fall asleep around 4 or 5 in the morning, wake up at 8 to attend an hour lecture, walk back to my dorm, sleep for 10 minutes, and off to lecture again. For fun I attended performances at our campus theater. Most of these were guest performers brought in by the university. At home I worked at a stagehand and usher for UCR’s performing arts department, but the productions I attended in England were very experimental and fresh. I have not since seen productions like these in the US.

Much of what I got out of England was a completely different look at who I was. I had countless night of self-exploration having conversations with Brandy, the only EAP member in my college (note: college=dorm in England). Having just come out of a relationship, which stifled every being of my body and soul, I needed to really vent.

That stifling relationship not only took me into my exploration in England but also brought me one of my deepest friendships. Virtually a couple weeks after the disastrous break up, I began hanging out with a distant friend at an event, funnily enough to get away from my ex. (We had traveled together to this event, a juggling festival in North Carolina, because we had planned it before the break up, awkward situation much?) This friend, Nathan, had been introduced to me a year or so before by my younger sister as “Vova’s awesome best friend”. She had hung out with the two boys two year before in Vegas. As a 13 year old at the time of her initial introduction, juggling and playing DDR simultaneously with a famous young juggler and his hip pal was all the rave. I remember hearing about it weeks after she cam home. Wanting to separate myself from my ex in North Carolina, I gravitated towards Nathan, one of the only familiar faces in the gym on the fist day of the festival. He was standing amongst a circle of friends, laptop on the ground at his feet. I walked over and greeted him, finding out that he was in the middle of an editing project; I immediately latched on to dove tailing interests. It turns out that Nathan finding it odd that I wanted to talk to him, facebooked me, finding I was no longer in my previous relationship, felt it safe to hang out. I spent the rest of the week hanging out with Nathan and his crew and departed at the end of the week. To my surprise, not long after my departure I received a text from Nathan, assuring me a good flight and that he would have one as well. This correspondence kind of took off for the rest of the summer.

Every night at 10 in California (midnight in Texas), I would call Nathan. Since these were still the days when reception was sketchy in my mountain home, I would hole myself up in the laundry room to talk to my new friend. Since Nathan lived in Austin, TX, he would not receive my call until midnight, but regardless, we talked every night for the rest of summer. This was a necessary and painful healing time for me. Having just ended the first romantic relationship of my life (one that lasted a year and a half), I was in no shape to bounce back. The past year and a half had been very bruising; I had not stood up for my interests, my beliefs, my values or myself to my ex and coincidentally had gotten knocked down a lot. He was narcissistic and strong willed and I was meek and conforming. It was a terrible match. Night after night Nathan listened and reflected on my thoughts and feelings. He was an extremely supportive friend and enlightening mentor.

When this summer of healing and budding friendship ended, I flew off to England.

After England, I came back to UCR to finish out my Junior Year. Having finally switched majors for the last time, I was taking upper division psychology classes and falling in love with the discipline. It is a minor regret of mine that I did not declare my major earlier as what I learned in my psych classes was not only very interesting to me, but extremely applicable in every day life, something that my previous major in film never really was. Near the cap of my units required to graduate, I very much needed to think about how I would spend my senior year and what venues I wanted to explore for my future. I eventually decided to stay in Riverside for the summer, work and attend summer school, allowing me to graduate in Winter instead of Spring.

Before the break-up with my ex, we had been attending meetings at the school’s swing dancing club. Decoding to declare it my own when I got back from England, I continued attending the meetings and found myself a new hobby. Swing dancing was hard! Always being clumsy with coordination, learning the basic steps to West-Coast swing dance was a challenge in itself, but once I mastered that I was able to unlock an entire new way to enjoy myself. I loved dancing so much I would drive the 45 minutes every Monday night to Riverside from my home in Lake Arrowhead during the summer to dance at Coffee Depot, only to return completely exhilarated.

Though I had a new group of friends from swing dancing, a new hobby and a new culture, I did have to begin thinking about more serious things. After talking with my father, I decided to explore Occupational Therapy as a possibility for grad school. I always knew that not attending grad school was not an option for me. Both my parents had post-secondary education, my father both a Master’s and PhD (in two different fields) and the recession had just begun, what better time that to be in school? The pre requisites for grad school included Anatomy and Human Physiology, both with labs. Needless to say, as a psychology major, I had not taken either. So Winter quarter of my senior year at UCR, I dropped to part-time status, taking 8 units instead of 12. I simultaneously enrolled myself in a local junior college, pulling string to take Anatomy and Physiology simultaneously. There is a reason why they are supposed to be taken separately, I realized later. The classes were designed for nursing students, the nursing program at SBVC (my junior college) one of the best in the country. The classes met roughly 6 hours a week including lab. I studied probably 12 hours a week per class just to keep up. From December to March, not only was I struggling to keep on top in A&P, I also had my 8 units at UCR to worry about.

Once my final quarter at UCR ended, it was time for me to start getting together my applications for grad school. By this point in time, I had decided that I wanted to pursue a Master’s degree in Occupational Therapy. Applications were due starting in October. I needed not only to complete A&P, but also up to 100 hours of volunteer work (the hours varied according to program). I began volunteering 3 to 4 days a week at Loma Linda University Medical Center and FROST developmental center in addition to my two classes at Valley. This was perhaps the time in my life I was forced to work the hardest. My professors at Valley required us to know material beyond what my father had learned at USC for his Masters back in the late 80s. Fortunately, during this time I refined my study skills and found good study partners and made pretty much all As in physio and mastered a B+ in Anatomy (I hated and was terrible at memorization).

Every single day from about November to April I checked my mailbox. After 3 letters of rejection, around April I received a letter of acceptance. This letter came from University of Washington in St. Louis, the number one school for OT (tied with USC) according to World News, but also a private school. In St. Louis. I was extremely not ready to know what to do. The school I wanted most, San Jose State, had not gotten back to me at all. I had been corresponding with the OT people at SJSU since the very beginning and was pressed between the decision of waiting for their decision and accepting the one of U of W. The biggest problem was that the St. Louis program would cost me over $60,000 a year and it was far away, while SJSU was in my state and tuition was (then) only $4K a year. After speaking with my knowledgeable father, I decided to contact SJSU about my other acceptance, hoping to glean an answer from them. In time I received an email stating that, unfortunately, my application for the OT program at SJSU had come too late. They had filled the class on rolling admission before my application was even considered. I was heart broken. Should I move to St. Louis, just to be in debt up my wazoo? Should I wait another year for SJSU? I didn’t know where to turn.

About a week later I received a phone call from Rochelle McLaughlin, the Master’s program coordinator at SJSU. She had met with the board and they had decided to admit me into the program that coming fall. WHAT DID SHE JUST SAY??????? Yes. I was in. And not only that, I was in as some sort of miraculous exception. I was completely elated. I jumped and screamed around my apartment for half an hour, Until I had called every important person and broken the news breathlessly and made myself hoarse. That was the most distinctly happy 30 minutes I have ever had in my life.

In February, amongst the throws of grad school applications, volunteer hours and A&P classes, my best friend, Nathan Peterson, had asked me to be his girlfriend. I couldn’t have been more ready. On Valentines Day 2009 I had a boyfriend! who I very much was in love with and who knew me in and out.

The summer before grad school, my dear friend Nate Culpepper (coincidentally one of Nathan Peterson’s best friends from Austin) flew to my assistance to drive me from Lake Arrowhead, CA to Austin, TX. Seriously, what a dedicated friend. Swiftly after attending my little sister’s high school graduation ceremony (and listening to her speech as VALEDICTORIAN (I’m so proud of her!!!!), Nate and I drove 21 hours straight through the night to Austin. When we arrived we were filthy and exhausted, but happy to be home.

Spending the entire summer with my boyfriend was necessary. Being long distance we had not really spent more than 2 weeks together (Side story: Nathan had flown across the world to spend my last week in England with me, one of the best times in my life) and the day-to-day routines of our relationship had yet to be steadily established. Summer in Austin was fantastic. After I finished my brutal, expensive and stressful summer online class in Neuroanatomy, we flew to North Carolina (yes, the same place and event where we had first shared our heart to hearts) to attend the International Juggling Association’s yearly festival. A couple weeks later, we flew to MN to visit Nathan’s family for 4^th of July. Summer was amazing.

In August, Nate Culpepper AGAIN drove with me back to Lake Arrowhead. We spent a single night at my childhood home, hopped in the car and drove another 8 hours the next morning to my new home in San Jose.

I didn’t really have much of a plan for where I wanted to live for grad school. I merely had a vague idea that I needed to have a place set up before I arrived with all my belongings. So about a month before I needed to be at school, I began searching for a single room to rent in my price range. I came across a few ads and responded, trying to promote myself as ideal roommate while disclosing enough to make it possible to be able to be myself and bring my friends and family over. On July 20^th, this happened:

Hi Jessica!

You sound like a lot of fun and I think we'd get along the best out of the other potential applicants! Unfortunately, we really need someone for a yearlong lease. Would that be possible?

Emily

On Jul 20, 2009, at 10:53 AM, sjsnetworkinginfo@gmail.com wrote:

Someone has replied to your post on SJSNetworking.com:

http://www.sjsnetworking.com/main/show/2461

Hi!

My name is Jessica. I am 22 years old and will be attending SJSU in the fall as a Masters in Occupational Therapy student. I love to cook, unicycle, juggle, read and paint. I am a very cooperative roommate and would love to live somewhere where I can get to know those I live with. I do not smoke, drink seldom and have no pets. I am fairly clean and organized and expect to help with shared space cleaning as well. My first priority is my schoolwork so I would like to live somewhere somewhat quiet and close to school and/ or Light rail. I would like to have guests over somewhat often, as I like to hold study groups and cooking nights. I am looking for a place to stay from mid August (15th) to mid May (when school ends). Please contact me with more information if you are interested in sharing with/ renting to me.

Thanks so much and I hope to hear from you soon! ☺

Jessica

Well, I thought to myself, I am the best of all the other applicants! I can most certainly work with that. After some more correspondence with my new friend, Emily, she provided me with a link for the house put up by the real estate agent previously trying to sell it. IT WAS STUNNING. Not only was this the house of my dreams, the rent was affordable, I would have my own room, and it was BLOCKS away from campus. Well, I just had to have it.

On August 14, my dad and uncle’s birthday, I drove up to Beauty Palace. Emily’s head poked out the window, and she came running downstairs to greet me. It has been fate ever since. My roommates are the most loving, fun, interesting, respectful, sweet, smart and creative people I have ever met. We get along seamlessly and they roll around on the ground with me. I could not have lucked out more. I finally have the relationship with my roommates that I always dreamed of, and I met them on craigslist! I suppose miracles DO happen.

At the end of August, I began my entry-level graduate program in Occupational Therapy. I met my 29 classmates and came to a realization. Certain kinds of people flock to certain kinds of professions. Occupational therapy is for creative and loving people who want to help people and do something about it. They want to love what they do and have fun with their jobs. They are flexible and kind of messy, open and kind. These are my kind of people!

Grad school has been for me an adventure. In undergrad, a handful of people always sat at the front, participated and loved what they did. Here, everyone is determined. They work hard and want to understand and apply what they learn. It is a flourishing learning environment. I learn things I will apply one day to my own practice. The classes are small and take place all in one building. My class of 30 has gotten to know each other well over the past 4 months; we have become good friends and spend time outside of class as well as in. I have developed a network of peers and friends.

I am so excited for the next two years. I am excited to learn as much as I can about my profession. I am eager to explore myself in my field, to take advantage of my resources. I am ecstatic to build a home with my roommates, and a life with my boyfriend. My relationships with my friends and family have changed and it will be an adventure to continue that growth as I mature and as time passes. My relationships are very important to me and I know they will change me for the better. I like change, always have, and very much look forward to what my future has to offer.