I was attempting to organize my bookshelf when I found one
of my old textbooks from a class I took in college. I remember thinking that many of the writings
looked interesting, but naturally, my professor assigned all of the ones which
I deemed rather dull or ridiculous. I
picked up the book, flipped through it, and found one passage from the film, Good Will Hunting. Now, oddly enough, I have never actually seen
this film, even though I am currently finishing up my master’s degree in
mathematics. Well…technically I seem to
procrastinating because I’m supposed to be studying for a test next week in
abstract algebra. That probably explains
why I thought it might be fun to sit down and read an old textbook. Anyway, I knew the film was about a janitor
at MIT who was a brilliant mathematical genius prodigy awesome
would-pay-him-to-take-my-test-this-week etc. etc. What I didn’t know was that he was resistant
to use his mathematical skills in a job for the NSA where he would be doing
code breaking for the government. He
wasn’t interested in more education or a fancier job. He wanted to remain a janitor. Why? From the passage, it would seem fear was
the only thing holding him back.
What an
interesting story for me to happen upon at this point in my life! I’m finishing my master’s degree, and my
thesis project is actually on code breaking.
Yet, I am absolutely terrified of going any further with my
education. What if I fail? What if I can’t pass my prelims after 3 more
years of hard work, and walk away with a master’s degree as a consolation prize? Still, every time I turn around, friends,
family, professors from college and graduate school, even the vice president
and president of my college are asking, encouraging, dare I say begging me to continue. Everyone I know believes I am perfectly
capable of getting my doctorate and becoming a math professor. I’m the only one who doubts my ability. I’m not a prodigy like Will in the film, but
I seem to have quite a bit in common with him.
I haven’t actually failed a class yet (say a prayer and cross my fingers
about that test next week), and yet I am so afraid of failure that I’ve been
doubting whether I should even bother trying to go further. Deep inside, though, I know that God is
handing me an opportunity to develop the talents he has given me. He’s challenging me to become the best I can
be. How on earth could I choose not to
even try? I think I have to keep going. I have to try. If I try and fail, I will just have to trust
that God will show me what to do when the time comes, that I will grow somehow
from the experience. But maybe…just
maybe, everyone is right. Maybe I could
do it. How terrifying. Could I handle the regret, though, if I never
tried? Absolutely not.
After this nice little pep talk I gave myself, I looked at
the passage which was on the previous page of my textbook. I found a new favorite quote. Charlotte Bronte writes of the struggles women face in
trying to pursue their talents. Granted,
this was written at a time where the vast majority of women were homemakers and
didn’t have jobs at all, but I feel that it still applies today, and what she
wrote seemed to explain exactly why I had just come to the conclusion that I
have to try, even if I fail. I also feel
Bronte’s words still apply because someday (whether I have a doctorate in math
or not), I would like to have a family and be able to spend time at home and
raise my children even if it means working part-time or being a stay-at-home
mom for a few years. How do you balance your responsibilities at home and still try to pursue your goals? Do your goals just change along the way? Anyway, enough
rambling from me, this is my favorite part of Charlotte Bronte's writing:
“…no other can take up the quiet, regular duties of the
daughter, the wife, or the mother, as well as she whom God has appointed to
fill that particular place: a woman’s principal work in life is hardly left to
her own choice; nor can she drop the domestic charges devolving on her as an
individual, for the exercise of the most splendid talents that were ever
bestowed.
And yet she must not shrink from the
extra responsibility implied by the very fact of her possessing such
talents. She must not hide her gift in a
napkin; it was meant for the use and service of others. In an humble and faithful spirit must she labour
to do what is not impossible, or God would not have set her to do it.”
I can’t shrink away from the opportunities I’ve been
given. I can’t hide my gifts. I wouldn’t have been given the ability to
come this far if it were impossible. Two
years ago, I wouldn’t have thought I would be able to finish my master’s
degree. I wanted to quit every single
day. And yet, here I am. I suppose God set me to do it. He made the seemingly impossible possible.
And now that I’ve given myself that nice pep talk, I really
must study.
