What Am I Doing

From a very young age, I knew what I wanted to be when I grew up: everything. Chef. Pilot. Janitor. Singer. Politician. Filmmaker. Journalist. Dance Teacher. I wanted to be so many things. And I still want to be those so many things, but you can't get good at something if you spread yourself too thin. One person can't be everything. There's a limit to the energy in your body and the hours in a day, and adrenaline can only take you so far.

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I was never particularly good at one single thing, so my little misguided mind convinced itself that if I just worked hard enough, I could do anything. But that's not how the world works. That's not how people work.

It's a horrible feeling, actually- not knowing where you fit in. And obviously it's not unique to me, but a necessary evil of the stupidly human experience.

There are some things that I do know about who I want to be, though.

I want to help people.

I want to be a part of something bigger than myself.

I want to make art.

*the audience gasps*

Wow, you want to be an artist, Amulya? Hate to break it to you, but that's not really news to anyone. You've been tooting that horn since you were young enough to toot a horn.

The problem is, since I was young enough to remember, I've been told that being an artist is not a viable career option. It's too risky, too underpaid, too volatile, too... whatever.

And however much this hesitation is ingrained in me, I somehow always find my way back to wanting to drop out of Minerva and enroll in an art school.

If music and dance and art is my crutch, then doesn't it mean that that is what is always going to be there for me? Isn't that what I should really rely on instead of all of these other fleeting passions and people and expectations?

It feels like an itch I can never reach. Like my entire body demands I take this path in order to relieve myself of some sort of... un-scratchable itch. It's irritating. Annoying. Unnecessary, even. But no matter how long I go ignoring it, I always end up reaching for it again. and again. and again. Just a matter of time.

I thought of dropping out of Minerva several times. Whether it be because of the academics being so draining, or the community so isolating, but right now I want to drop out because Minerva refuses to fulfill my art cravings. And a community that cares about art? Doesn't exist here.

It's different in other schools where there are established clubs and resources and people who care about the same things I care about. There's about 4 people in my grade who are genuinely committed to pursuing art in some form post grad. F O U R. And none of them fall under the same umbrella of interests I do.

So make your own club. I did. We did. But what's a club of four people with different interests? What kind of club is that?

Take art classes. I have. But Minerva is far from legitimate fine art or performing arts classes. There isn't even a design track for arts kids. Just tangential "humanities" or related studies.

So find your people. WHERE ARE THE PEOPLE. I can't find likeminded people if we're all scattered across the world in four month chunks. The only constant is the 150 people in my grade, and of those people, I don't have much choice than to pick the four people who even remotely care about art seriously.

I feel like I'm wasting time. Wasting my youth. If I want to pursue art genuinely, why am I so afraid of committing to it? What if I had gone to an art school instead of Minerva? What if I had started the Youtube channel or the huge art projects that I've been putting off because I don't know how to do them on my own? Why am I so afraid of throwing money at an interest in fear that it won't actually bloom in the end and my time, money, energy, love, passion, necessity would have been for nothing?

What if I'm not good enough?

I think I know deep down that this is my path. I keep coming back to it. I keep thinking about it. I keep wondering. What if... what if...

I'm just having trouble swallowing that fear because there's nobody standing in the same boat as me right now. I feel like I'm stuck on an island full of people who don't speak my language. I feel stuck. Before I've even started.

Strangely enough, I know I am capable. I know that if I truly put the time and effort into this path, I could get somewhere even if it's not the top. I could make it work. I could do it.

But I don't know anyone who did. I've never heard of anyone who did. And I don't know anyone else who will. Anyone that looks, talks, and lives like me, that is.

Sometimes I envy my really artsy friend. They're the lone wolf artist. The one everyone just accepts as The Artist. The one who's not ashamed or shy to present his work to anyone who will listen. The one who isn't afraid of the what if, because they will be a professional artist because they are... an artist.

I struggle with the guilt of wanting to pursue this for myself. Because my whole world taught me it would be selfish to pursue the arts. To drag those around you under with you because of the finances, the risk, the uncertainty. I crave art and questions and that uncertainty. I want to be that person. But it feels like my whole world is telling me I can't. The universe is telling me I can't. And my gut is telling me that even though I want to, I shouldn't.

I don't know what has to click in my brain to get me out of this road block, and I don't know if it's already too late to fight for this path. But I do know this. That itch is still there. Always has been. Probably always will be. What am I going to do about it? When? What if I did?