I Was Told That College Wasn't for Me

“Where’ve you been? Haven’t seen you on the morning shift lately,” I said, excited my work buddy was back.

“College! I’m working on my nursing degree. You should go too. Do you really want to work at McDonald’s forever?”

I shrugged. I wasn’t sure being a fast food manager was my permanent career choice, but it was an okay job. I had never really considered leaving, and I told my friend as much.

She was shocked, but Nicole wasn’t the pushy type. Instead, she handed me a pamphlet from her school and told me to think about going. “You’ll probably qualify for full financial aid, so it won’t cost you a thing. They have these things called PELL grants for people like us. I can even drive you there if you need a ride,” Nicole promised.

I shoved the brochure in my purse and said I’d check it out after work. This was a lie, of course. I doubted our local college wanted a high school dropout like me. Besides, I was already working 60 hours a week so my daughter could do fun things like ballet and swimming lessons. I didn’t have time for school.

I forgot about my conversation with Nicole until weeks later, when I needed my favorite lip balm. As I tore through my bag, I found the pamplet shoved at the bottom. It was wrinkled and ripped, but I could still see the school’s website. “May as well take a look,” I mumbled, abandoning my lip balm search.

After powering on my computer, I typed the college’s website into Firefox. Smiling faces popped up on my screen along with paragraphs providing reassurance that despite my doubts, the local community college was for people like me. Shocked, I scrolled through some of the degree programs. They had nursing, computer science, paralegal training, EMT courses, and even programs for hotel management and pastry chefs.

I couldn’t believe there were so many options available. With the click of a button, students could pick from dozens of programs and prepare for their chosen career path. I had never seen anything like it. My parents were both high school dropouts like me, and nobody had ever told me that I could become anything I wanted as an adult.

Excited about my now-bright future, I called my boyfriend’s mom. “I want to go to college!” I yelled happily, explaining that the school by us had hundreds of classes available.

She paused for a moment, then said, “Missy, girls like you don’t go to college. College is not for you. Girls like you go to secretary school and learn skills for jobs.”

My eyes filled with tears, and I angrily told her she was wrong. “Girls like me do go to college,” I yelled. “And I’m going!”

She hung up on me. The next day, my boyfriend’s mom showed up at McDonald’s with a scrap of paper. Handwritten phone numbers and addresses were scrawled across the page in sloppy cursive. “Secretary training,” she said. “Girls like you, this is what they’re meant to do.”

I chucked the paper in the recycle bin and never shared my goals with her again. For a long time, I didn’t share them with anyone. Dejected, I picked up some extra shifts at McDonald’s and pushed college out of my mind.

My goals returned when Nicole put in her two weeks at work. “I got a hospital job,” she whispered excitedly. “I’m almost done with school, so they’re training me on the phones and other front desk stuff until I get my nursing degree.”

Smiling, I told Nicole I was proud of her. If anyone deserved to get out of here, it was her. “They’re still hiring. You could apply too, you know,” Nicole replied.

“Eh, I don’t know if college is for me. Jay’s mom thinks I’m just meant to be a secretary or that I should stick with fast food.”

Nicole laughed, then said, “Not to be rude, but isn’t Jay’s mom unemployed? Why are you taking career advice from her? Plus she’s from the generation that believes women shouldn’t chase their dreams. We’re both off at 11 a.m. today. Do you want a ride to the college?”

I considered her offer for a moment. Usually we both worked from 4 a.m. until 2 p.m., but today we were overstaffed. We were usually shorthanded, so a day like this was unlikely to happen again soon. I needed to take advantage of my free afternoon before work got crazy again.

“Sure, but can we pick up my daughter first?” I asked. Less than 30 minutes later, we were headed toward the college with our kids in the backseat.

When we arrived, I gasped in awe at the buildings scattered across campus. College was so big! Before dropping out, I attended a high school with around 100 students total. I wasn’t prepared for a multibuilding college.

Sensing my apprehension, Nicole said, “Don’t worry, your classes won’t be in all these buildings. Mine are just in the first two. The other ones are mostly for music, art, and sports.”

We walked inside, and Nicole headed toward the financial aid office. “Trust me, you’ll want to do this first,” she said. After completing several stacks of paperwork, including info about my income for the FAFSA, we headed toward admissions.

“Don’t let the name scare you. They admit pretty much everyone,” Nicole whispered as we walked into the admissions office. She was right. The college just wanted a copy of my GED and taxes, then I could start my classes. I couldn’t believe registration was so easy. Before Nicole’s help, college enrollment had always seemed intimidating and complex.

As we exited the building, Nicole said, “See, I told you college was awesome!” I agreed and spent the ride home thinking about my first college class: Intro to Psychology. The school had a late-start Psychology course that began in a couple weeks, and there was only one spot left. I grabbed it before I could reconsider my decision to attend college.

Class met one night a week. I was terrified the first night and almost bailed, but then I thought about my daughter. I used her extracurriculars as an excuse for staying at McDonald’s, but I could pay for them no matter where I worked. I wanted to show her that women could attend college and pursue their goals, even when the odds were stacked against them. I wanted to be a good role model.

So I kept going to my Psychology class, then enrolled in Algebra and Medical Terminology the next semester. “Mommy is going to work for a doctor one day,” I told her as I read pages from my medical dictionary aloud. My daughter laughed and clapped her hands.

Years later, I landed an interview at a nearby doctor’s office. My boyfriend told his mom, and she called to warn me that I’d never get the job. “You have no experience,” she said. “You’ve only done fast food and the grocery store. They’re not going to hire you.”

Annoyed, I ignored her and went to the interview anyway. During the interview, the doctor praised my well-written cover letter and said it was one of the best he’s ever seen. “That’s not why I called you, though,” he said. “I called you because I like that you’ve been at McDonald’s for so long. I figure if you can handle all those years as a fast food manager, you can handle anything.”

I got the job.