Hello, hello! This is Vika. It has been a while. Three or four months, I believe. That is a bit lame and vaguely unsettling. Just last year, I was certain that my motive for updating this site and blog in no way concerned the requirements and curriculum of a class I was once apart of. This hiatus may indicate that this was, in fact, my motive, and because I find that thought entirely disagreeable, I have returned to restore my integrity a bit, however superficially. There is new content under the photography tab, I’ve added to the artwork page, and have created a temporary work in progress (WIP) page that will soon be updated.
Today was my final day working as an improv instructor at Herricks summer recreation. Despite my initial apprehension, teaching at camp turned out to be an exciting and rewarding experience. I truly love working with kids, particularly the older students whose attention spans were a bit more developed. I thoroughly enjoyed the students’ energy and enthusiasm and found myself looking forward to each lesson. I have tutored. I have been an “arts and crafts specialist.” I babysit. I was pleasantly surprised by how much I liked this job, even though I have had jobs that involve children for quite some time now.
Now, we all know where this is inevitably headed.
As a soon-to-be college student (and as a Vika) I, of course, recognized my delight and immediately questioned whether education should be my chosen career path. I did not even entertain this thought for a full minute before grimacing and focusing my attention back to my book.
While this is something I have experienced numerous times upon contemplating the possibility of pursuing a certain career, my reasons for rejecting this profession were totally unfamiliar to me. This was very odd! I have considered so many mundane, humdrum jobs and while I did end up deciding against all of them as well, it was not because I recognized these careers as such. I found other ways to rationalize why they would not do.
Now that I am no longer in high school and this future that has seemed so far away is beginning to merge with the present, I can so easily recognize that something simply is not enough, if that makes any sense. In the past, I spent so much time attempting to predict what future Vika may or may not find fulfilling. I am now choosing to allow myself to walk in the shoes I set aside for her when I was in high school, and I can tell you confidently, as I strut my way to college with them on, that I do not want to spend periods of 45 minutes in the same classroom each day, struggling to grasp the attention of children who would rather be anywhere else.
I, of course, wish I had realized that I did not have to wait to finally wear these shoes (I would have applied to a conservatory program). They fit as perfectly now as they ever did. I’ve always had the same foot, and I won’t end up needing a new pair until I walk a bit in these. Until then, the shoes will not change either, so you might as well put them on.
My classes start in less than three weeks. I will be working in the scene and costume shop for Fordham’s productions and I’ve enrolled in fine arts courses at the League down the street from my school. Oh, and I think I’ll be taking ballet again and I may even transfer next semester. It’s all good. I’ve got my shoes on and I look forward to wearing out their soles.