Tuesday, September 5, 2017

Thoughts on being a Guster: End.



"It was my luck to have a few good teachers in my youth, men and women who came into my dark head and lit a match." – Yann Martel

There were supposed to be posts in between to explain further my experience as a GUST student. They never made it up here simply because I was overwhelmed with what it actually felt like to be a bachelor student and all the obligations, the responsibilities that are tied with it. I was also a tad bit lazy. I am not going to deny that.
Many things happened. I met new people; let go of some and became close to others. However, I suppose the biggest change that happened in regards of my academic journey would be the change of my major. I stepped in that university certain that English Linguistics is what I wanted to study. Then I took English literature classes, which are obligatory to every English student. Something in me sparked with delight. A delicious joy I couldn't comprehend at the time. I was being heard and my opinion actually mattered in class. My professors would listen to what I say. Some mockingly and others admiringly, but both listened and they listened profoundly. They tolerated my crazy ideas, my uncalled-for analysis of characters, things and history I was not able to understand at the time. Yet, they listened. I was eager to learn about what I was raised to avoid. I don't think I ever was in my life this hungry for knowledge. I was intrigued but afraid. Changing my major would naturally mean the change of my future. I would be jumping from the bridge of certainty to a pond of magnificent mystery. The idea of the leap into the unknown was thrilling, but I was not able to do it. Not until my best friend Max nudged me by saying Literature has always been my passion and that I should pursue it. At the same time, I took an introduction to linguistics class, just to at least give my major a fair shot. I loathed it to the very core of my being. I hated everything about it, and above all, I hated the silence. No discussions allowed, no arguments, no opinions. I was fed information. No, I was shoved with information down my throat. Information that I did not even care about. That is when I decided, I had much more in me, much more to give. I changed my major and it is one of the best decisions of my life.
I had to read countless number of literary texts that filled me with life. The Fifth Child, Lord of the Flies, Voyage in the Dark, Wuthering Heights, The Yellow Wallpaper, etc. Introduced to many legends behind those texts. Walt Whitman, Henry James, Henry David Thoreau, Doris Lessing, F.Scott Fitzgerald, Jean Rhys. These are only few names of the people I read for and stayed up the night memorizing and being mesmerized by their words. Not to mention the ancient texts such as Beowulf, Epic of Gilgamesh, The Odyssey, Plato's Cave. I'm honestly surprised that I still remember this much. This proves to me that my soul carried a piece of each and every text I read and fused it together. I can proudly say that I am what I read and I am what I will continue to read. Even if it is not a classic, or a best seller or praised by others.
The hardest part of ending my journey as a student there was saying goodbye to my instructors. I was absolutely in awe with their passion for literature, for enlightening our minds. The passion flickering in their eyes as they taught me stories they probably taught a thousand times. I am honored and thankful to see a glimpse of their courageous and beautiful minds. I wish I was able to the perfect student enough. I wish I could say that I did not give them a hard time, but I did and most understood my frustration. I was simply tired. Tired of not being allowed to longer speak my mind the way I could before. The walls thickening, the rules branching around my wild mind, tying me down. All the "عيب" and "حرام"  I heard and complaints against stories we read that are supposed to make us think. Just that. Think. As my journey progressed, I realized that not many students majoring in literature actually wanted to think. They were in it because they thought it was easy. That alone suffocated the ones who truly wanted to reach beyond the border of our minds. I grew exhausted of not having a safe place to express all my thoughts and that is when I realized... it was time for me to move on. I pushed myself to graduate and I did. On the 27th of August, I was free.

Dr. Keith Jardim
Dr. Piers Smith
Dr. Martin Rosenstock (my German professor who always listened to everything me and my friends said, whether complaints, news or stories.)
Dr. Yulia Naughton
Dr. Gerald Naughton
Dr. Kenneth Pak (my philosophy professor who asked me all the right questions.)
Dr. Shahad Al-Shammari

I do not have enough words to express my respect, love and gratitude to the instructors mentioned above, but I will try. Thank you for being patient with me. Thank you for nurturing my thoughts. Thank you for challenging me. Thank you for listening. And thank you for lighting a match in my dark mind. Thank you.

A long journey of mind ended, but I am already on the look for the next one. I know for a fact that all I have to do is keep reading and asking questions because being a student is not tied with a degree, but with simply being alive. 

LEAVE A COMMENT