The Beginning of the Rest of It All

This has truly been the summer of my discontent. After many months of soul wrenching internal and external debate, I have decided to (barring a deferral) suspend my graduate school career. No decision has ever been more difficult. Some of my hand was forced by severe mental instability. But that instability came as a result of trying to justify another half decade or more of grinding poverty, accumulating student loan debt, and a continually nonexistent job market. Why, I wonder, when professors of mine explained to me the extreme peril of pursuing a PhD in history did I not heed their advice when it was at its most useful? As it is, I just spent 3 years earning a MA degree that I am proud of indeed, but those years could have been much better served earning a graduate degree in a field with job prospects. This will be old hat to those who have considered grad school in the humanities, or have been around the block with someone who has. At the end of the day, it just seemed that, at 32 years old, there is simply no more time to waste. I could no longer bear the prospect of being in my late 30s and looking for my first job. Whether in academia or not. I am banking on one thing: those who are smart enough to get into a PhD program ought to be smart enough to find something else to do with their lives. In my case, I'm going to try to carve out a job in education at some level. Though this freedom that comes from leaving grad school is easily the most terrifying position I have ever been in.