...the times they are a changin.

Yesterday, I completed my first year of graduate school. Whew! I didn't think it was humanly possibly to complete 7 classes during one quarter of grad school, 22 credits to be exact. I woke up today at 7:30am, wondering what paper I had to write...then realized that I have no more papers to write. I was on auto-pilot for week, citing inspirational quotes on Facebook in APA style.

As you probably have noticed, I have privatized my blog, so if you are reading this,you have been invited to. This means it is now uncensored.

If you haven't heard the story, it's ridiculous, but must be told...

At the beginning of April, I had an a meeting with a school advisor for my advancement to candidacy and placement for my practicum placement for next year. It began well; she reviewed my exam and all the challenging work I put into leading my group at the homeless shelter.

In 30 minutes they were suppose to discuss my exam with me, discuss the first two quarters of my learning, my strengths and weaknesses as a person and my placement for next school year. It does seem like alot to discuss and process within a 30 minute time frame.

Of course, my meeting went longer.

After reviewing my work thus far, the advisor hesitated and said "this is difficult for me to tell you...I don't know how to tell you this."

Shit. Sure sign of something bad coming. Brace yourself Brigid, this is going to be hard to hear. I knew there had to be something for them to rat me out on. It's grad school. They pretend to build you up, just to tear you down.

"About busking..."

"Busking?"

The faculty is strongly advising me not to "busk" in Portland. The reason being: I will seem unstable to clients who might run into me. I should not play for money on the streets of Portland, because homeless people might see me as unstable.

Not all street musicians are unstable, derelict drug addicts. In fact most street musicians are individuals who love sharing their music with others and are trying to make a living in this difficult economy. I busked twice since moving to Portland. I don't make a ton of money while busking. I do it because I love playing banjo in the sunshine. I enjoy receiving and giving smiles to people who walk me. I delight in the children who dance around to my music. When I see others playing music on the street, I smile. In my mind, they are not unstable. They are finding a creative way to survive by sharing what they love.

As my advisor told me "grad school is a bunch of hoops that you need to jump through..."

Isn't that the truth. I have been jumping through hoops ever since entering the traditional schooling system. Jumping through these hoops will hopefully allow others to call me a professional, for whatever that is worth.

Jumping through these hoops will not stifle me from sharing my creativity with others.