One (Almost!) Down...

So a week or two ago I was going about my day-to-day routine and I realized something that caught me off-guard just for a minute: I was really happy, and I wasn’t sure why.

Don’t get me wrong – while I have my highs and lows, I’m generally a pretty happy person. But lately I’d felt a smile playing at the corners of my mouth when I was just walking down the street, my mood light and optimistic.

And then I realized, of course, that I was just really. freaking. proud of myself for finishing my first year of b-school. (Well, almost – I am working on a summer class right now.) But the scary quant classes I’d been dreading since I first began this entire endeavor were OVER. No more accounting, stats, or econ. Finance is still to tackle, but by the time I take that, it will be comfortably ensconced between classes that I actually choose to take, not core classes that I merely tolerate.

Actually, I am being harsh on the core. It’s not all bad, boring, or math. In fact, I surprised myself by actually getting into it a bit. And this brings me to the point of this post: reflections upon my first year as a part time MBA student. Here are just a few of the takeaways from the past 10 months or so:

• When you’re not in class or studying, you think you ought to be. This is one of those things you don’t realize until you’re actually in school. It is very difficult not to feel guilty when you have a free moment spent doing something other than reading or writing a paper. I am told by 2nd and 3rd year part-timers that you get over it.

• This isn't really a useful bit of information, but something that hadn't occured to me before this year. Most MBA students, even part-time ones, are YOUNG. I like to think I’m still a young woman in my thirties, but the average in my program appears to be late 20s. (Did I just not have it together at that age? I can’t see how I would have fit it in back then.) One fond memory from the past year involves being mistaken for the prof by AV guys coming to fix the projector. I must just look really smart.

• Professors really do matter. A lot of people may have realized this in college, but back then, I was much more concerned with whether or not they seemed cool. Now, back in school by choice, I have come to find that my absorption of the subject matter can depend largely on the way that it is presented to me, and different strokes, as they say, work for different folks. The two profs I had who were what one might call dorky were by far the best illustrators of their subject matter, and as a result I aced two of the classes I’d feared the most. Their geeky enthusiasm made me excited about subjects in which I never thought I’d excel. The one professor I had who I liked the most as a person, a women whose personal anecdotes made me think she was like someone I’d be friends with, just couldn’t connect with me in terms of the actual subject matter of the class. Her laid-back approach just didn’t grab me. While her methods really worked for some members of the class, I later spoke to a friend who’d had exactly the same experience that I did – the prof was cool and smart, but just didn’t possess the knack for conveying what she knew to an audience of newbies. Much of what I got out of that class came from the book, as much as I enjoyed the class time. Lesson learned? Ask around about professors before registering if you can.

• Do what the syllabus says - read, write solid papers, go to class - and you’ll do well. It’s that simple. It may be a little harder to in some classes than in others, but in general, if you put in a decent amount of time and effort you’ll learn a lot and do well. I know it seems basic and logical, but to me was a revelation of simplicity, like how putting quarters in a machine gets you a soda. This plus this equals that, no tricks or secret handshake involved.

There will be other tidbits from my first years and school life to discuss here, I am sure. But the main thing that surprised me this first year? How much I like being in school. As stressful and busy and even overwhelming as this part-time thing may have been at times, deep down I know I liked it.

One down, two to go.