fear is a teacher
Today is the day I have to make a decision about where I’ll go to grad school. I have two offers of admission - one from Stony Brook University and one from Columbia University. I thought by now, after a month of mulling it over, that a day like today wouldn’t exist, that I would have been happily settled into my decision, already letting my mind run wild with the possibilities of the program I knew was right for me. Instead I woke up with a tightness in my chest, a desperation for any kind of sign, an extreme sense of loneliness, a precarious burdensome weight pressing in on me. Fear. Fear, my closest friend this past year. It is only natural that fear has been my constant companion today.
In December 2017, I attended the wedding of my husband’s close friend. At the rehearsal dinner I took notice of the mother of the groom, Lenore, a woman who exuded grace and power just standing still. Later, exchanging pleasantries and small talk, I told her what I did for work and she said it sounded very interesting. Trusting a sense of candor between us, I told her that actually no, I was miserable at my job, and even more miserable at the thought of another job as a creative in New York City, but I had achieved a good salary and health care, and as a newlywed in her 30s beginning to think of starting a family, it was too late for me to start over entirely. (Fear presenting in the form of complacency.) At this, Lenore let out a laugh and a playful arm punch and assured me that it was never too late to start over, especially if I was unhappy. She herself had not gone to law school until she was 35, and had her first child a few years after that. A few weeks later, sleeplessly spinning through my thoughts, the weight of her words sunk in. In the middle of the night I hovered over my phone and typed in “the study of the relationship between plants and animals” and the word “Ecology” appeared. That’s it, I thought. That’s what I want to do.
me in the middle, age 7, assisting the entomologist Milton Sanderson with his discovery of the New Mexican “hot bug”
Fear presents itself in many ways. One of the ways it showed itself to me continuously this last year was through doubt. Fear made me doubt myself, my abilities, my support, my intelligence. I’m good at dreaming and scheming, and for months I researched and organized graduate school possibilities, talking Danny’s ear off about this or that program. But fear in the form of doubt kept me from reaching out to those program directors because I was certain I’d be laughed at or shot down, what with my zero background in science and a mediocre undergraduate transcript. It took six months after meeting Lenore to finally hit send on an email I’d been sitting on for two months addressed to the program director at Stony Brook. I was sure he would tell me to get real, to go get a second bachelors. But within a day I had an enthusiastic and encouraging reply, and at that moment I knew I was going to change my life in a drastic way. I immediately made a plan to quit my job and signed up for a GRE class.
This blog could be paragraph after paragraph of all of my encounters with fear this year. But what I mainly want to share is this - the biggest lesson I’ve learned this last transformative year is that fear is a teacher. Fear challenges you to ignore it, to push through it, to hold it close to you and step forward anyway. Fear shows you the life you have and tries to make it more attractive than the unknowable. But fear’s great secret is that it’s an illusion, a veil between you and the reward that lies beyond. If I had not pushed through dozens of big and small fears this year, I would not be sitting here with a very good problem to have - the choice between two fantastic environmental conservation programs. I would not have been accepted into the Ivy League.
This last year I outdid myself mainly by swatting away doubt like an annoying gnat. Doubt told me “you’re not a math person” when what was waiting for me was the highest grade in my algebra and trigonometry class. I even enjoyed it. Doubt wondered why I was even bothering applying to Columbia and told me to keep my expectations low. But here I am, a non-scientist, B-level student invited to join a prestigious science masters program.
the grade on my algebra/trig final
I was afraid It would come to this, that I would arrive at this moment without clarity, with the fear of making the wrong decision. But as I’ve spent the day methodically going over my pros and cons lists for the hundredth time, I’m reminded of fear’s intent - to challenge me, to make me push through it, to trust the unknowable, to trust myself. Fear in the form of regret would have me believe there is a right and wrong answer here, but just knowing its intent tells me the truth - either decision will come with its reward, and that reward is simply what I make of it.
In the fall I’ll join Stony Brook’s Masters of Marine Conservation and Policy program. It’s taken a hell of a lot of pride-swallowing to turn down Columbia, and I suspect my ego may be bruised for a while by the fact that I don’t get to go around patting myself on the back for being a student there. But that’s just fear doing its thing again, making me doubt my own worth for choosing what I know is best for me and my future.
Yesterday I went to Robert Moses beach. It was cold and windy, and the beach was empty except for a few bundled up beachcombers. I sat on the edge of the tidal line, staring out at the water, and reflected on what’s brought me to this point. It’s been the audacity to listen to the small voice inside me that tells me I’m going to live an adventurous and interesting life. I’ve been almost too embarrassed for too long to articulate that simple knowledge. But now here I sit, proud and true to myself, embarking on a journey that is entirely mine.
Sometimes it’s helpful to make a list.
Scary things I did this year:
Told a doctor about my anxiety/insomnia
Ran a half marathon
Wrote an email to the director of the Marine Conservation and Policy program at Stony Brook
Signed up for a GRE math class
Went to the second GRE math class after overcoming the tremendous self-doubt I felt after the first class
Took the GRE
Took the GRE again after the tremendous self-doubt I felt after the first test
Tracked down the head of the math department at my community college to beg for placement into Algebra & Trigonometry
Gave my notice to my job of 6 years
Gave my notice to my job again and actually quit this time
Emailed a therapist
Started therapy
Told a family member a painful secret
Asked another family member to go to counseling with me
Reevaluated my relationship with alcohol
Asked my biology professor out for coffee
Wrote to the director of the environmental science department at my college
Applied to an unpaid internship
Wrote to the chairman of the science department at my college
Wrote to the director of the Ecology, Evolution and Conservation Biology Program at Columbia
Wrote to an esteemed ecologist
Wrote to an esteemed conservationist