NYC College Kid

James 1:2-4, “Consider it all joy, my brethren, (and children) when you encounter various trials, knowing that the testing of your faith produces endurance. And let endurance have its perfect result, so that you may be perfect and complete, lacking nothing.

The following is from my daughter upon graduating from St John’s in New York City, having come from suburban Texas. I make no apologies for the language, as I am so proud of her, and overwhelmed with joy at the lessons she has learned.

"Don't tell me I don't know struggle

Mentally, emotionally, financially

In relationships, in school, in the city The big bad city. It will make you bad. Either you come out a badass or a bad egg. Either way, This city changes you Down to your core You will go into it thinking you won't change, but believe me... You will.

Whether it be the temptation...

Drugs, love, boys, girls, money, alcohol All at the snap of a finger Or the fight With your landlord, your boyfriend, equality and let’s not forget the symbol that makes the biggest change- MONEY or lack of. See you can get here and make a mint. Then you change for inevitably the worse. Because without struggle. Without the not knowing whether or not you will eat today, the fear of being mugged on your way home, the sight of homeless children begging for money, eating from the dollar menu because that's all you can afford, or at least you hope you saw a dollar in change in that bag the other day. In all likelihood- if you move to New York before the age of 30, you will suffer- oh you will suffer- and you will change, for better or for worse.

The happy go lucky girl or guy will disappear leaving nothing but fatigue and resentment. You become defined by your stresses, you no longer can be called a person. You are anger, you are pain, you ARE constantly stressing out about keeping your lights on. See... I've been there. Seems like I've always been there.

For me, New York changed me. It gave me compassion and understanding for people I would have never encountered elsewhere. It make me skeptical, head strong and fiercely independent. I regret that although NYC has matured me and has created a level of empathy that I could have not previously imagined, there are scars. I can't tell you how many times I have been at my breaking point. CONSTANTLY FUCKING STRUGGLING. There is no house to escape to. No raiding mom and dad’s fridge when you're low. You make money or you fucking starve. No one is here to be your friend. No one is here to watch you succeed. They have their agenda as you have yours, and one of you will be the stepping, the other the stone. You pick.

The weak fall under the stress of it all. Go home within a few months jaded and with their tail between their legs But if you can make it here. I mean just fucking survive. You are a fighter and you have the potential It takes to succeed. NYC can make you ruthless, unforgiving, hardened- but the direction of the anger is not how it would have been. The anger is at the injustice of the poor, the ignorance of the masses and the needless fucking suffering a college student endures because they wanted to better their education.

I feel as though I am weak from this city.

I am angry. Ill be honest- I am furious. I hate feeling shafted, and believe me... NYC will do that.

You watch selfish housewives gleefully use their husbands' credit cards without a second thought. They didn't earn that money. Although I don't think about that often. I'm too worried about eating, buying soap, and finding enough change to make It to school. I am below the poverty line Because of course, I am a NYC college kid." 

And to Katherine I say, "You are a NYC college GRADUATE, and I am so so very proud of you!"