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Real Talk: I Took a Gap Year

I took a gap year. And no, not like an I-need-me-some-cash-money-before-college kind of gap year, and not like a high-school-detox gap year; I took a gap yah. I spent the fall living at home and taking classes at the New York Film Academy; in the winter, I volunteered at Women in Progress, an NGO in Ghana; in the spring, I worked at a horse farm in France; and in the summer, I taught English at an intensive summer program in South Korea.

Was it amazing? Well, I mean, yeah, duh, in some ways, of course. I got to act and make short films and meet some amazing people—a Brazilian model, a woman from New Zealand who lived on a boat, a guy named Cash; I got to live abroad, in three entirely different cultures; I got to wear waist beads and get my hair braided and make friends with a parrot; I got to spend a few weeks almost exclusively in the company of horses; I got my first teaching experience and visited the DMZ (shortly after learning what it was) and made friends with college-aged Korean kids. I was exposed to so much in so short a time. Even when I was homesick and missing wifi, I still felt lucky to be where I was, to be doing what I was doing.

Plus, it was the first year of my life I felt like an adult! I became friends with adults who weren’t also friends with my parents. I drank beer and wine with dinner (remember: I was legal in Europe and Africa and Korea). I had real-life responsibilities! I budgeted money and problem-solved and planned weekend trips. I’d always been independent but this kind of independence was new to me. It was exciting and it helped prepare me for “the real world” in a way my time at college didn’t.

All of this said, I was often really, really lonely. All but one of my close high school friends had gone straight to college, and they were having all of the classic collegiate experiences—keg parties and classes and lanyards and roommates. I was doing cool stuff, and I felt more adult, but when I talked to my friends who’re at college, I often felt that they were talking down to me a little—like, oh, well, you wouldn’t understand, you’re not in college yet. I was doing cool stuff, but my life was also, in a way, on pause. I wasn’t meeting the people I’d spent the next four years with, I wasn’t dating, I wasn’t picking a major. Their lives were moving forward. Mine wasn’t.

I don’t talk about my gap year these days unless it comes up. It seems—especially since the release of the infamous gap yah video—like a marker of privilege I don’t want to flaunt. I also don’t want to be the guy in the video (“OMG, I can’t believe you said that cause it really reminds me of this time on my gap yah…”).

Sometimes I wonder: would I do it again? And honestly? I feel torn about it. But the thing is that it wasn’t really my choice. I was accepted to college for the following year. I was forced into gap year—or, I was given that time. I guess I’m just not sure about how I used it. If I could do it again, I would’ve spent that year in one place—I would’ve really learned French or I would’ve stayed at home and gotten some work experience, maybe traveled a bit in the summer. As I did it, spending three months in a place at time, you’re there long enough to get to know a place, but not long enough to invest in it, to make friends, to become a part of the community. But maybe I needed to bounce around in order to learn how important community is. Who knows. Life is strange. Take a gap yah. Or don’t. I’m sure you’ll make the right decision.

Are any of you considering a gap year? What about a Gap Yah?