The grad year

Claire Doll
MSMU Class of 2024

(1/2024) In 2023, I worked a full-time job and wasn’t paid a dime.

Every day, I clocked in before 7 a.m., and I left promptly at 2:45 p.m., commuting back to campus. I then attended evening classes, wrote college essays, edited the Mount’s literary magazine, and of course, edited this lovely News-Journal. I managed to exercise most days, hang out with friends over the weekends, and end with a pretty great GPA.

During the day, I was Ms. Doll. I taught some wonderful middle and high schoolers, wrote language arts lesson plans, read novels like The Great Gatsby and The Outsiders to teach my students. It was exhausting to work so much and balance being a college student.

But I loved it. Of course, I didn’t love working a full-time job while my college friends slept in and dressed in sweats and went out to lunch. Or driving home after the most difficult week ever and not getting a single penny for my work. Or the late nights, missed workouts, the tears, or the loneliness of such a busy life. I loved my students: classes of eccentric and positive middle schoolers. I loved my mentor: a wise, wonderful, impactful teacher who guided me through the highs and lows of education. I loved the staff at Thurmont Middle, and I loved this glimpse of the real world, and of what it’s like to be a teacher.

In 2023, I got a part-time job as a barista. I learned to make my absolute favorite thing in the entire world: espresso drinks. I went to so many beaches, saw Taylor Swift (highlight of the year, I’d say), and I grew so many friendships. And of course, I completed two teaching internships in the spring and fall. It was a beautiful year, one where I found myself, but also struggled immensely. Did I really want to be a teacher, when everyone seems to have a negative opinion on education? Did it matter if I missed two workouts in a row? (In the moment, it mattered so much.) Would life after college be all that I had hoped?

I’ll be honest: I’m scared for 2024. I graduate in May, and after that, I start working. I’m scared of being a teacher, a real teacher with a classroom and everything. Where will I teach? Where will I live? Will my students like me? Will I even make it?

Not only that, but I won’t live with my best friends ever again. Not like this. Now, after every Tuesday evening class, I go to my friend Jordana’s apartment to debrief the weekend. I learn to make pottery with my roommate Emma, and I have comforting talks with my other roommate, Kayla, at the end of her bed. I bake cookies with my boyfriend, Gavin. I have wine nights with my friends, and I enjoy trips to Gettysburg for a midday coffee. College is a beautiful thing, something I am so grateful for. I wouldn’t change it for anything, and I have learned so much.

However, if 2024 will bring anything, it will be change.

Next semester is the first semester since freshman year that I will have less than 16 credits of classes—meaning I have a super light course load. I have off Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. I’m taking the general courses I need for graduation, but also classes such as personal finance and ceramics. I want to better prepare myself for my financial future, and I also want to dedicate time to leisure and new hobbies. I’ll still edit Lighted Corners and the News-Journal, and I’ll work on my honors project, and I’ll of course be interviewing for teaching positions. But I want to use the space in my schedule to slow down.

I’ll never get this time again. The time to be with friends, pursue creative arts, and to do homework at a coffeeshop on a Tuesday at noon. To sleep in and watch the sunrise from my bedroom window, rather than the window at school, or from my car’s dashboard. To travel on long weekends and spend hours writing, making pottery, or editing a literary journal. Or being intentional and mindful during my workouts.

My goals for 2024 are abundant. I don’t think that one should have a singular resolution, but rather many that complement different aspects of his or her life. For example, one of my resolutions for 2024 is to be more mindful with my time. Rather than cramming assignments, workouts, and shifts into one morning, I will instead give myself space to wake up early, work out, make breakfast, and start my day slowly. With intention. I will limit social media time, maybe even delete some of the apps. I will slow my mind down, journal more, and focus on mental habits that will sustain me while teaching.

Teaching. I have the goal to give myself immense grace when it comes to being a first-year teacher in 2024. I do not expect myself to be the best, or to do everything right. I want to instead build healthy mental practices—like developing a steady and flexible routine—that will reduce stress in the long run. I will not have college classes, homework, studying, or extracurriculars. I will focus on my own time, on my own hobbies, on teaching and the people around me.

My 2024 resolutions look different than previous years. Instead of aiming for a certain GPA, reading a certain number of books, or getting my creative writing published, I am striving for simplicity. Space. Self-forgiveness. Friendship. I have never been this way before—if you know me, I’m an anxious, indecisive perfectionist—but I truly do think that this year of student teaching has changed me. I have grown past college, and I strive for a life where I can lead my own classroom. I find value in my students and my experiences rather than my coursework, and I have found a passion in teaching.

As for my concrete plans beyond college? Stay tuned for that!

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