Impostor Syndrome and siblings

My first semester at Purdue was pretty good.  I enjoyed most of my classes, I've already reported that I did pretty well.  The hardest part was not getting to march... which, considering that I never marched in high school, probably should not have been a surprise.

My second semester, was about the time Impostor Syndrome began to kick in.  Impostor Syndrome is a feeling like "who am I to do this?" or "I'm not as good as they say I am," or "feeling like a fraud."  It's not uncommon among women in STEM.  So, not only am I at about the right point in telling my story... the previews and spoilers for Glee's "Big Brother" are affecting me.  For me, impostor syndrome was brought on with a little help from my younger brother.

Supporting each other

In the last post, I wrote a little bit about our falling in love.  It's frustrating, that so many of the fairy tales and stories that we read, hear, see on television, etc..., so many stories just stop and handwave "happily ever after."  Because I know that the story continues.  That happiness may continue, but it's not a constant.  Nothing is.  Just because you've found someone, does not mean that everything else will suddenly go right.

Finding Brian was the *start*of something right.  But that didn't mean things were perfect, or that all troubles had ended.  I was only in my first semester of engineering school, at one of the top schools in the country.  I'd like to move on to the second semester for next post... but I don't want to sugar-coat college life.  I struggled with a lot of things, things that I think are not unique to me.

I was living in South Bend when the movie Rudy came out.  Everybody loves a happy ending.  But it is an unfortunate fact of life, that everyone has to choose what is most important to them.  In the things that mattered the most to me, engineering and a career that lived my dream, graduating from college was a triumphant success.

In other things that mattered to me... choosing engineering, and those academic pursuits, had a price.

Giving Arts a Chance: Junior year

So we moved from Nebraska back  to Indiana.  The place that is home, but not mine.  My mother's family has lived in Indiana since at least 1920.   My father's side of the family has been on the Indiana/Ohio border for about 200 years.

Mom grew up visiting her grandmother on Sundays, and playing with her cousins regularly.  I was lucky to see my grandparents once a year, and my cousins less than that.

We moved to a small town in northwestern Indiana.  Starke County, just north of Pulaski County.

I don't recall registering for classes, so I am guessing my parents registered me.  I'm not sure why I didn't take band that year.  Did I consciously choose not to?  Did they simply forget to sign me up?  Or did it have activity fees that they balked at?  It might not have fit the schedule that I had.  Regardless, I didn't take band.

Giving Arts a Chance - Sophomore Year

Continuing my series of thinking about arts in my life.  My Sophomore year of High School, I was actually enrolled in band.  We had two bands: Intermediate and Advanced.  I was in the Intermediate Band.  This was the year I learned that the only other clarinet player in the school was a Senior.  I got to know her a little better that year, as the only other clarinet player.

Then again, she was out in front of everybody a lot that year.  She was selected as Mother McAuley for the senior's Mercy Day play, she got the lead in Godspell, the Fall Musical.  The school did that with an all-girl cast, it was cool.  And she was the lead for Cinderella, the spring play.  I was so in awe of her.  We exchanged pictures towards the end of the year, she wrote a note asking me to take care of Mrs. Jensen the next year.  I wish I could have done that.