Why am I at MATC?

I will begin answering this by describing how I was feeling about eight months ago. Outwardly, I appeared to be in a completely normal state. Actually, I would have appeared more ecstatic than usual. I had just quit my job. Twas a grueling, manual labor occupation. The sort of which built up calluses on odd parts of my fingers from the repetition of a single action for ten hours. Most of my week was spent either sleeping or working. The critical moment came when my supervisor strongly "suggested" that I work overtime, implying that I should devote myself to even more so to the recuperation of the slack from my facility. So I quit.

Quitting was incredibly easy. I felt absolutely no guilt. I despised every iota of time that I spent in that building. I was overjoyed. I believe I went fishing directly afterwards. Slowly the realization crept over me. I made an attempt to ignore it, but I was an adult. The feeling slowly devoured my consciousness until nothing other than despair remained. It wasn't regret, it was much more severe. It was despair. The only thing I could think about was where I was, what I was doing. I had four hundred dollars in the bank and an HSED. I still lived with my parents and I had just quit the best paying job that I had ever had. I had no idea what to do. Humiliation was my initial reaction. But I decided to be done with pitying myself. I made a proposition to a powerful man.

As I sat upon the couch in my living room, my pride suddenly seemed to become very insignificant. "Papa," I said unto my father, "I know I said I wouldn't ask you for money any more, but I want to ask you for a loan for college." His response was utterly shocking. Without hesitation, without so much as a hint of mistrust, he looked me right in the eyes and told me that he would be happy to help. The next day I was in the registration office at MATC Mequon Campus. I had no doubt in my mind as to what program I would enter. I barely remember not having a computer in my house. Heck, I remember when I thought MS-DOS was a toy. I wanted to make them go. I wanted to be the man behind the curtain. I had this insatiable desire to understand the mechanics of these magic boxes that were so perfect, so beautiful, and so logical. Not to mention, I had been learning C++ for about three months. I had my heart set on being a programmer.

So I applied, paid my dues, and began my educational career. Thus far, I have had nothing but a good experience. I have thrived in this place, I don't believe I can describe the feeling accurately. It's as if I were a wilted plant clinging to life that has suddenly found itself awash in all manner of clean water and delicious nutrients. Somewhere within this story is my motivation. I see it in my peers eyes' every day I walk the halls. We are the people who stood at the brink, gazed upon the chasm, and refused to allow ourselves to fall. We are the ones who see our lives as our responsibility.  I am proud to count myself among the salt of the earth.