Is there any irony in a quiet, reserved person wanting to major in communication? A few weeks ago I would've said yes, but as I analyze myself and my new surroundings in this strange wilderness of a university, I realise just how much of a communication major I am.
First let me explain what it means to be a communication major. Communication itself is rooted in information being processed and then broadcasted to many people. A communication student's main goals would include learning to do interviews, note taking, and other journalism techniques, as well as learning public relations skills or other information based skills depending on the specific concentration the student chooses. My concentration is journalism, but I couldn't be a reserved journalist in a sense that I would sit in some quiet office in complete isolation writing my articles. What would I write about? Unless it's about back pain from excessive sitting or muscle cramps from typing, my scope would be pretty limited without me actually stepping out into the world and gathering information, which is at the root of all communication. But what I didn't realise until recently is that gathering information is all I seem to do now.
My epiphany came after attending a party on campus yesterday. I didn't dance. I wasn't the life or death of the party. I just stood there, observing. I analyzed the multi-colored strobe lights, the well choreographed routine of the frat boys as they pranced around the room, the multitude of faces and personalities, among countless other details. A few classmates, the ones I recognized, caught my eye and I spoke with each of them, but I wasn't fully immersed in the liveliness and informality of the occasion. And then I started to wonder why. I didn't notice at the time that I wasn't the only one dancing or even the only one that didn't show up with a friend (my friend and I were separated at the entrance). So for the next thirty or so minutes, I walked around self-loathing, figuring I had unresolved issues from my childhood or that I wouldn't make it to my next counseling session without a mental breakdown. It wasn't until I got home, reflected on the situation, analyzed it, and began writing, did I realise how I wasn't alone in my shyness and furthermore, how deep of an analysis I had gathered from a party I thought I wasn't paying attention to.
I always examine the many facets of my life and world and wonder why. I draw on this curiosity to write my blogs and will undoubtedly draw on it to write my class assignments, too. And honestly, maybe my lack of confidence WILL hinder my success as a journalist once I obtain my communications degree, at least to an extent, but as good back up, I'll always have my wondering mind and its insatiable thirst for information.
