Why I Don't Regret Not Going to College

I remember as a child being told by my parents that the only way I'd ever get a good job is to go to college.

"Don't be like us," my mother warned. "Neither your father nor I went to college. We'd be better off if we had gone."

Perhaps for them that statement was true. My parents raised three children on a below-poverty level income. We went without many of the luxuries that our society considers necessities: a microwave, a VCR, cable television, going out to eat or to the movies. I remember one time my mom asking to borrow $50 from me so she could buy groceries for the week.

Eventually, they both took turns going to trade schools: my mom to become a dental assistant, my dad to become an airplane mechanic. Life improved dramatically once they both finished their programs, but by then, I had already grown up and moved out of the house.

Despite my mother's warnings and my dad's chagrin, I did not go to college. Okay, I tried a semester at the community college and hated it, so I never went back. Ironically, both my older sister and younger sister went on to pursue masters and doctorates. Both are still in school. I figured I just wasn't college material.

So I went to work instead. I started with the typical string of jobs: waitress, retail, bank teller. Things were going fine while I was a bank teller. I wasn't rolling in the dough, but I was eking out a living, and the bank had a defined career path I could pursue. But then I got fired and for a while, things went downhill.

I started working for a temporary agency, filling in for secretaries and office managers out on vacation or maternity leave. The work was diversified, sometimes interesting, and sometimes very dull. I made it a point to learn something new at each job. Previous to working for the temp agency, I didn't have much exposure to computers. After a few office gigs under my belt, I was showing Word shortcuts to the other admins and I felt very comfortable navigating different computer programs.

After leaving an abusive relationship, I fled from my small upstate New York town to Richmond, Virginia. Despite not having a nickel to my name, nor a car, I landed the very first job I interviewed for: the receptionist at a large car dealership. Within a month, I had squirreled away enough money to put a down payment on a used car and got a loan through the Bank of Mom and Dad (they were doing much better financially at this point - enough to loan me money). I lived with my parents for a while and paid them rent, which was cheaper than an apartment rent, but I wanted to not be a burden to them and I wanted to show them I was a respectful, responsible adult. I moved out about six months later into my own apartment.

Around that time, I learned I could make $4 an hour more being a customer service representative for a major credit card company. But they were only hiring temporary workers, so I went down to the temp agency and told them I wanted to work for the credit card company. They told me I could report to work the following Monday. I quit my job as a receptionist and became a customer service rep. I was there for about four months before I was offered a full-time job with the credit card company. I immediately accepted their offer and my salary doubled. Within six months, I received another promotion, and after another six months, I became eligible to post for other internal positions. I had my eye on a position called "Multimedia Specialist" and when I interviewed for it, they were so impressed with my enthusiasm (their words, not mine) that they offered me the position the next day, even though I had no experience whatsoever. My salary surged ever higher.

I spent about a year with the multimedia department before a previous manager lured me away to work with her in a start-up company as a technical writer. The benefits weren't as good, but the pay was lucrative, so I accepted her offer. Once again, it was like starting over. I had never done technical writing before, so I learned as I went. Within a year, I grew bored with the job and was secretly somewhat relieved when the company went bankrupt and everyone was let go.

After a brief stint in the unemployment line, I landed my first contract job as a technical writer. That was six years ago. Since then, I have worked for numerous large firms and have steadily increased my paycheck. I have continued in the technical writing vein (it seems there is an endless amount to learn), and now I am beginning to enjoy the fruits of my labor. I am quite young to be at a senior level, but that is where I am at.

I spent most of my twenties feeling guilty that I did not go to college. I often wondered if I had missed out on the whole wonderful college experience. At one point, I tried going back, but after being in the workforce for so many years, I grew restless with the basic classes: history of art, psychology 101, biology 101 - what did these classes have to do with real life? Why was I paying money to learn about stuff I had no interest in? Why the heck do I need to know how to draw and paint in order to receive a degree in Communication Arts and Design? All I wanted to do was become a reporter, or work a camera in a newsroom.

Granted, I am not a doctor or an engineer or a lawyer. But I still pull in a respectable salary. I unfortunately cannot say that about everyone I know. I've known many people who have gotten a degree only to go on and become administrative assistants or do something in a completely different field than what they studied. And I think it's a shame. So much pressure to find a job before the student loans come due. So much pressure to find a decent paying job right out of the gate. I don't know, but it seems to me that unless a person goes to school to learn a highly specialized skill, we all start out on the same level, degree or no degree.

Now that I am older and have some more wisdom of life, I no longer regret not going to college. It took me a long, long time to find peace with this decision. Gone is the age-old fear of living at the poverty level because I do not hold a degree. I have been working long enough to accept that my salary is not a fluke and somebody in HR is not eventually going to catch on that a decimal point is in the wrong place on my paycheck and take it away. Not holding a degree has not caused any glass ceiling problems, either. When asked, I am upfront and say that I do not have a degree. Nobody holds it against me. I have never been turned down because I do not possess a degree.

There is no end to learning, though. There have always been books and experts who offer lectures in their field of expertise. With the advancement of the Internet, the flow of information has never been so diverse and rich and easy to tap into. I have learned so much about the world around me just by opening up my mind and exploring new thoughts and ideas. With the click of the mouse, I can stave my curiosity about a particular subject.

Learning does not always need to be achieved in a formal classroom setting. Learning is all around you, in your everyday interactions with people, in every decision you make. It all depends on how you view the world around you. Do you see opportunity or oppression? Do you find success in each failure? Any failure can be redeemed if you learn something from it. And it seems to me that some of the best lessons are not learned in a classroom, but learned in the school of hard knocks.