The cycle of decluttering continues, and this year I’ve made it down to some very deep sedimentary layers. Including the folder of academic miscellany that I scanned in today - everything from my unsuccessful application to a graduate management program here in L.A. (the Anderson School didn’t think I was MBA material, and you know what? They were probably right. I already bailed out of one MBA program (at Georgia Institute of Technology)), to my high-school transcripts. My handwritten high-school transcripts. Yep, that’s how old I am.
I barely glanced at most of these papers as I went through them, because oddly (maybe? considering I’m a serial degree- and certificate-getter, it’s somewhat odd) my identity really doesn’t derive from my education. One day I’ll probably skim through them to remind myself what I was interested in then, to the point of signing up for a class on it.
Here is a picture of me presenting a prize-winning undergraduate paper titled ‘The Enlightenment and the Rise of Socialist Egalitarianism.’ (Always loved a good polysyllabic word.) I’ve cropped the image to spare the memory of the nice old academic dozing off to my left.
