Last Saturday marked an important milestone in my career path. I attended the screening day for the interpreter preparation program at American River College. It was a day filled with nerves, excitement, focus and self-criticism.
Visiting Gallaudet University, Dec. 2012
A little background for those of you who don’t know my situation: I began taking sign language classes about 2 ½ years ago. After falling in love with ASL (American Sign Language), I quit my job in journalism to pursue a career in sign language interpreting. The last couple of years have been solely focused on getting me into the interpreter preparation program.
It wasn’t until the weekend before the IPP screening day that I began to seriously weigh what was at stake.
I've taken all of the pre-req's that there are to take prior to getting into the program. If I don't get in, what will I do?
Lucky for me, my brain is equipped like a Hemi. I've got at least 8 cylinders firing questions simultaneously.
Will I get my butt back into the workforce and earn a steady paycheck?
Should I continue on as a student and take classes for enjoyment while taking a more aggressive approach to developing my fluency in ASL?
Should I focus on getting pregnant and take measures to have a baby before next year's program?
If I don't get in, what will people think of me?
If I don't get in, how will I feel about myself?
I'll spare you from reading the rest of the self-critical questions that surfaced.
The night before and the morning of the interview day I spent in a quasi-meditative state. I read a book on self compassion (or maybe part of a chapter). I downloaded meditations on my phone to get my mind off of the stress (but only had time to listen to a few minutes of one — and that one didn't seem to be very fitting for the moment). I told myself to release the outcome and to focus on my breathing.
I know better than to try to cram an all-night study session the night before. I told myself that I’ve learned everything I need to know and I just had to remain calm so I could tap into that knowledge. I also was careful not to do anything that would injure my hands (no chopping butternut squash or doing craft projects where paper cuts could handicap my game).
I cleared my mind and I showed up, mentally, emotionally and physically — at least until I entered the room where the day's activities were taking place.
And then the mental olympics began.
Throughout the day, I was acutely aware of the eyes on me as I signed various activities, communicated with my peers and answered questions.
I watched the disconnect between what I knew to be "right" and what my hands decided to do. It was like having a video game controller that was only partially functioning.
Why won't the A button work?!?! I pressed X - Why isn't my avatar using ASL order?
At the end of it, I was exhausted.
I congratulated myself on being there, on getting to this point, and on giving it my best considering all of the factors at play (nervousness, stress, anxiety, competition).
My inner demons came unloose on Sunday. And I’ve been playing an internal game of whack-a-mole ever since.
I am a firm believer that everyone we come into contact with was sent to us for a reason. So obviously, the universe planned it out perfectly for me to see a former sign language teacher and one of the raters from the IPP screening day at the grocery store the next day.
And my memory reel was in fine form as I replayed our grocery store conversation over and over and reprimanded myself for what I did and did not say.
Monday came around and I tried to read the temperament and facial expressions of my boss, who was also at the screening day.
In the afternoon, I ran into another rater from the screening day. We had a pleasant conversation and I couldn't help wondering if she was being nice because she knew I was going to be accepted or if the tone of the conversation had nothing to do with what had transpired the Saturday prior.
I was listening to a podcast or reading a book recently where someone quoted Robert Downey Jr.:
“Worrying is like praying for something you don’t want to happen.”
I keep repeating that mantra to myself. What am I accomplishing by worrying? What good will it do to start planning out my Plan B if my Plan A comes to fruition?
This process has put a spotlight on how uncomfortable it has been to sit with uncertainty and to be fixated on the outcome.
But it has shown me the truth of John Milton's famous words:
“The mind is its own place, and in itself can make a heaven of hell, a hell of heaven.”
I create my mental and emotional state — for better or for worse.
My greatest salvation during the waiting period: my friends and family.
Thank you for pulling me out of my head and pointing out all of the reasons why I am loved regardless of my application status.
I will try to spend more time living like our cat, Pasha, who constantly reminds me that:
