When I think about the most important events that have happened in my life, the one that always comes to mind first is getting kicked out of school. As a high school graduated I was very excited to cross the great state of Michigan to attend University and for the first time live away from home. I was declaring my independence, breaking away from what had created me and starting my own life. After my first couple of weeks of freedom I had sealed my fate.
My roommate, a childhood friend, and I were quick to make friends. Having set up our dorm to have a living room gave us a great benefits package to offer those who would call us friends. With a tower videogame systems, a pretty nice stereo and a very chummy relationship with our resident advisor we played host to countless dorm parties. Having such an important role of playing host in my list of responsibilities I would often stay up too late to attend the 9am classes that my naive freshman mind thought were a good idea. That semester I started with a full load of 12 credits but by the end I had only 8, of those I managed to pass one of them with a D giving me a GPA of .175.
That December I was back in my small town visiting with family trying to prove how much of a independent man I was, talking about all of my new life experiences and the things that I had learned in my classes that year. Shortly after Christmas I received a letter from the University saying that they would let me continue to go to school at WMU but would have 2 semesters to bring my cumulative GPA up to over a 2.5.
I didn’t let this news discourage me, I attacked that next semester with all I had. I made sure to schedule classes only after 11am, to give myself time to recover from the night before and started shrugging my social life off every so often. In the last of these semesters I was walking across campus with a friend and saw an advertisement for Alternative Spring Break, a student group that spend their school break taking part in community service instead of the traditional tropical climate party, we decided to apply. All that I had been doing seemed to work for the most part but for those very important semesters, I was attending class, doing my homework and getting involved on campus, but I let my pride get the better of me. There were two classes that I found it hard to attend, not because the subject matter was difficult but because I felt patronized by the professors. These two classes prevented me from hitting my required grade point average by two tenths of a point. So again in December I received a letter from WMU informing me that I had failed to exit my academic probation and I would not be allowed to attend the up coming semester. To add insult to injury I was requited to pick up my belongings from my dorm room on the day that all of my friends would be moving back.
In early January my parents and myself made the two and a half hour drive so that we could spend an hour boxing up my things and dismantling my lofted bed. Watching all of my friends prepare for that next semester of classes, parties and adventures was one of the most heart breaking experiences of my life. Having driven separately from my parents I delayed my departure as long as possible. Around 9pm I started my long drive back, which would be made even longer due to the exploding of the front driver-side tire of my car. After swapping out the blown tire for my spare while kneeling in 2 inches of slush in pitch black night while cars traveling around 80 miles per hour were passing me I was forced to drive the rest of the way at 50, angrily getting passed by my fellow drivers.
When I got home from that terrible journey I vowed to be back in Kalamazoo that fall. I spent spring and summer working as much as I could to save enough money to head back and attend community college. The next two years I devoted myself to becoming a better student, of striving to become an individual who was prepared to attend a major university and walk away with a degree. I found myself a roommate who had experienced a similar dismissal from school the year before me and was just as motivated as myself. Out of each failure of that time in my life I was looking for a solution to insure it wouldn’t happen again.
At the end of my time in Community college I was forced to make a decision, what university would I attend. My choices were Western Michigan University where I would have to fight against all of my former failures or Eastern Michigan University where I would be given a clean slate. EMU was also closer to my family by about 2 hours and most importantly it was infinitely closer to my girlfriend at the time. For all of these reasons it was a smarter decision to walk away from what I had worked so hard to get back to.
In the fall of 2005 I started attending EMU. Equipped with my new knowledge on being a student and a drive to make it to graduation day I walked into my first class. In this class there was a very pretty girl handing out flyers for the Alternative Spring Break at Eastern Michigan University. Because I was in desperate need of friends at my new university and had always regretted not going on the WMU trip I decided to apply. Once again in my first semester I would seal the fate of my time at a university. This time I guaranteed that I would finish school simply by becoming involved in this program. The Alternative Spring Break program because my drive for going to school at Eastern and gave me a career path. After my first alternative break, where I helped build a house in rural West Virginia, I was hooked on a life of service and wanted to be more involved with the EMU program.
After I got back from that trip I was the first person to submit my application to coordinate the program. Shortly there after I was hired in to the volunteer center and began a two year stint of involvement. Spending my free time on campus involved in the program and even managing to make it onto the dean’s list for a couple of semesters. Ultimately bringing my experience to a close on a positive note, all the while my experience at western driving me forward to become a better man.
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