Open-ended

Note: this post is part fiction, part non-fiction; interpret as you please.

Q—

A— I’m doing well, thanks. Yourself?

Q—

A— That’s good. Well, first year of medical school, I’m excited, yes. It starts August fourth.

Q—

A— I’m not sure. I guess in high school the interests started to form, but I’d rather not rattle of my personal statement. I do remember, though, being placed on the medicine or science track by my high school teachers and advisors.

Q—

A— I don’t want to use the word with a negative connotation. The idea behind track is complicated, and I’m currently struggling with it. In any case, I’m fortunate to have received that type of attention in high school. I was privileged, and I was-slash-still-am naïve.

Q—

A— I was particularly naïve coming out of high school because I had a lot of expectations of college. You know how it goes. It’s been clichéd in a gazillion trashy teen movies and novels. Not that I’ve been exposed to any of this.

Q—

A— An example? Well it’s simple. I though college was about the individual. I thought college was about me, about what I would gain. I thought I would be a sponge, only a sponge. People would feed me, and I would grow without a saturation point. My carrying capacity was supposedly infinitely large, a natural wonder.

Q—

A— Are you making fun of me?

Q—

A—It wasn’t completely my fault. High-school counselors, teachers, peers, literature enabled the creation of a place, College, where the Emersons, the Individuals, created things bigger than themselves.

Q—

A— Entering college I expected of expectations. I was confused, had no idea about what the next four year entailed, so I made things up. The expectations were formed by ill-informed conceptions, filtered and collected by someone who didn’t have an accurate description of reality. Because I didn’t really know what to expect, I formed new expectations, and from these expectations I expected new things, new ideas. I was day dreaming, falling into a recursive trap.

Q—

A— I know I’m being vague and abstract.

Q—

A— So what happened in college? What really happened is I-did-not-suffocate-the-universe-with-my-immensity-because-I learned-that-college-was-not-about-the-College-or-the-Individual. I went to college for a liberal arts education, and I took courses that interested me, and then, thanks to friends, advisors, professors, and mentors, I was given incredible opportunities that started me on the MD-PhD track.

Q—

A—The Emerson-ian-half of Anthony did not like tracks. Tracks specialized my education, thus preventing the formation of a black hole. The realistic-half of Anthony understood that track were a good fit and provided a lot of opportunity, a crap-load, some might say. But it is important to note that the Anthony-of-the-past created a dichotomy between the tracked and un-tracked self.

Q—

A— The answer to that question is way above me. Ask someone else.

Q—

A— The bottom line is that this self is very privileged. Throughout my life, my parents, my friends, my acquaintances have fulfilled themselves by fulfilling me, and now it’s my time to fulfill others. I’m not totally ready yet, but I’m getting there.

Q—

A— Yes. I think medical school will be a nice step forward. I know I will have people to trust and people can trust in me. The support will be there, not just for me, for everyone. I’ve already volunteered myself. Outside of what I just said, I don’t know. I don’t know what the next eight years of my life will entail. I don’t know what to expect, and I don’t want to expect, for reasons you’ve weaseled out of me.

Q—

A— So, long story short, I’m ready to start medical school. I’m excited to start medical school. Along with all this excitement, though, follows some anxiety. Anxiety that stems from the excitement of so many opportunities and resources placed in front of me. An anxiety that is a bedfellow with expectations, because in part the anxiety is an expectation, and I don’t want to believe it is true.

Q—

A— I’d rather not talk about it now. I guess it’s something I’m going to have to find out sooner or later.