The Other Five

In starting a new academic program, there are so many unknowns. I'll be working closely with faculty in developing research and clinical skills, somehow figure out what my own research projects will be, and make my way through the years and years of the clinical psychology program.

One of the biggest unknowns comes with those that begin the program alongside myself. When you know that you're going to be going through five years of school with just five other individuals, they can either make it a tolerable (who knows, perhaps even enjoyable) experience or one of pure misery and competition. While much is still to be decided, some of the unknown was taken out this weekend when I was able to meet these other five. It's interesting to consider that the six of us might likely never have crossed paths, coming from California to D.C., but that we will be so intimately connected as we move through this program together over this next half-decade.

We all gathered for dinner at a local restaurant in town, Kona Bistro. As I walked to the restaurant with Joy (I am the only married student entering the program), I told her my goals: to come across as confident but not cocky, funny but not goofy, intelligent but not excessively academic, and, above all, not too weird. I assume they all had the exact same goals as myself, so the first few minutes consisted of some mildly awkward introductions and generic questions. When did you move into town? Where are you living? Where are you from? Etc., etc., etc. We made it through dinner with only a handful of awkward silences, and overall, it was actually enjoyable. The thing that matters to me in beginning the program is not that I always look like I know what I'm doing, because goodness knows we'll all have times when we're clueless or overwhelmed. What matters to me is that I have others to go with me through those moments when I'm overwhelmed or don't have a clue, and I am hopeful that this will indeed be the case.

After dinner, we continued to sit at our table for a while, and as we talked more, our conversations relaxed and our personas began to show a little more through the thinly-veiled barrier or self-preservation. As drinks were ordered, congeniality developed, which was aided by the fact that I ordered blue-cheese olives with my standard drink (commonplace in Chicago) and the waitress was as confused as I will be when I start statistics next week. It all ended with me making my own blue-cheese olives right there at the table, at which point I knew I'd failed at each and every one of my goals.

But no matter, because the reality is that my own self and personality cannot be hidden for too long, and so much the better. And it must not have gone too horribly, since Joy and I played tennis with two of the other students yesterday. Now we start classes in a week and let the real fun begin!