My Last Year of Grad School

I'll have a degree

That's what I'll have
That she won't

And that's supposed to be a comfort, you understand
That's supposed to make me feel better

That she's getting work
And will continue to get work
And will probably skyrocket into the art world
While I'm in some crit somewhere
Wondering if I only wound up in grad school
Because I wasn't sure that I had the talent
To make it without a piece of paper
Certifying me as 'definitely not incompetent'

And already knowing the answer

You know why you should go to grad school?

To further you education
To learn more about your art and yourself
To make yourself more marketable in your field

All good reasons

Do you know why I went to grad school?

Because I was in my mid-twenties looking at my late twenties
And realized that they were a barren landscape
Of 'maybe's...

Maybe I'll get a job doing something I love
Maybe I won't
Maybe I'll get hit by a bus
Maybe I'll get pregnant by accident
Maybe I'll become famous
Maybe Nina and other girls like here will succeed while I fail
Unless I can give myself an edge over her

And a degree--a degree is supposed to be an edge, right?

Did you hear how I ended that

...Right?

Do you want to know the first time I thought that?

Do you want to know the first time doubt entered its way
Into my master plan?

My last year of grad school

Do you want to know when someone brought out the statistics
Of how many people there are out there with M.F.A's
Who aren't working
Indicating that the M.F.A has significantly lost its value
As a professional tool?

My last year of grad school

Do you want to know when people started suggesting to me
That perhaps going to grad school might not have been for me?

My last year of grad school

Funny how that happens, isn't it?

It's a little bit like getting to your ninth month of pregnancy
And then finding out that you're going to have dectuplets

You probably still would have chosen to have the babies
But a warning would have been nice

Nina chose not to go to grad school
Hell, she barely made it through undergrad

She rarely ever did what she was supposed to do

Massive amounts of projects let unfinished
Classes skipped, left and right
Almost no ambition or drive, whatsoever

And yet, she was given the senior showcase slot
Because the professors couldn't quote--'deny her inherent abilities'

So the moral of the story
In case you haven't quite figured it out yet
Is that you can pretty much do what you want
As long as you have the talent to back up your bullshit

And the thing is, the people with that much bullshit
Always have the talent to back it up

Because when those people are growing up
They become very aware that they're special
And they begin to behave accordingly
Unless someone stops them
Which no one does

And then other people, who do not have 'inherent abilities'
Realize that they're going to have to work twice as hard
To get noticed over the people who aren't even showing up
Because that's the card they were dealt

Nina has a gallery showing a month after I graduate
And I'm confident it will be a huge success

The press will love the fact that she didn't go to grad school
They'll love her rebellious nature
And the fact that she poo poo's those of us
Who had to 'continue our education'

Had to, not chose to, had to

Nina won't even entertain the idea
That I chose to go to grad school

Believe it or not, we socialize quite often
Because she enjoys reminding herself
That the path she could have chosen
The one I chose, or had to choose, whatever
Was a foolish path

And I spend time with her
Because I'm poor
And she's not
And she's willing to pay for her schadenfraude
With lobster and risotto
And so, I suffer instead of starve

Perhaps my opposition to starving
Is why I'm not as effective an artist as she is

That, or I should have just been a cosmotician
And nobody told me

Maybe they're waiting until the last minute

That seems to be the time
When all things
Are revealed