The Quest Begins (or, Why I Quit My Master's Degree)

October 11, 2014

First, an important disclaimer (yes, those exist): The purpose of this post is not to convince you to quit your own degree program or to point out problems with higher education. This post is about my personal journey to become more self-directed. If you find yourself relating to my story, and want to follow a similar path, go for it! However, if you are currently part of a masters or any other program, and plan to continue, please do not think that I’m trying to convince you otherwise. You have your story, I have mine. And here it is:

My decision to quit pursuing my masters degree might look pretty dumb from the outside. I had every reason to carry on. My skills and previous interests were a perfect fit for my program and I worked well in an academic environment. My professors praised my writing and thinking ability and I know they had great hopes for me. My grandfather-in-law was a highly-acclamined and recognized professor and researcher in the exact field I was studying and was a very valuable resource. And there’s always the added professional benefit of having a masters degree in the first place. Beyond all of this, my full-time job at the same university where I was obtaining the degree came with a 100% tuition benefit. In other words, I was getting a top-notch masters education, from one of the best programs in the field, for completely free.

These reasons kept me going for as long as I did. However, there was a problem: I had questions. At least, I have come to call them questions, but more on that next week. Put another way, there were things I was dying to know and to do that were outside the boundaries of my program. These things were on my mind constantly. I still found my classwork interesting, got A’s on my assignments, and enjoyed the friendships I was making. But the ideas and questions in my mind were more than interesting or fun. They were consuming. They called to me. I couldn’t shake them off.

For a while, I attempted to study for my classes and for myself, but I just didn’t have the time or mental energy. I was working full-time, taking six credit hours, and had a wife and two kids. So, in order to come to terms with my situation, I tried convincing myself that I should be focusing on the topics and concerns of my program, making the most of my brain power to really understand the field. I also considered shaping my questions and ideas to fit within the parameters of the degree, but it felt a little contrived. I even considered other degree programs, but nothing felt quite right. So, at one point, I half-heartedly concluded that the incessant questions would just have to wait.

However, behind all of this, I had a separate but related concern. Although I had been a successful student and employee for a long time, in some cases making very significant contributions, it had been many years since I had studied, designed, or built something using my personal time and means, just because I wanted to. This was particularly concerning to me because I had been a homeschooler before attending college, and personal “non-school” learning and creating was a normal part of my everyday during that time. While completing all my “school work” with more than acceptable grades, as a teenager I taught myself web design, audio engineering, video production, and beatboxing. Using these skills, I produced an full album for my band, made multiple movies (one of which was over an hour long), and created websites for each. I also took gymnastics and dance classes, started and an a cappella group, and led a team of teen volunteers in teaching 3rd graders how to read. Looking back, high school was the most productive time of my life, and I attributed it to the freedom and time that homeschooling provided me.

Now, after 10 years of college and work, I had to ask myself: was I still capable of learning and creating on my own, just because I wanted to? This question scared me a bit. I didn’t really know the answer. In fact, I leaned toward feeling that I really had forgotten to some degree how to learn outside of a structured environment. In particular, I wasn’t confident in my ability to learn the kinds of things I had questions about, which were of a much higher level than any learning I did in high school. I know I said this post was not about problems with higher education, but the idea that college is meant to “teach you how to learn” was just was not a reality for 3.85 GPA Grant Zabriskie.

Eventually, I remembered that the idea of “studying because you want to” was sometimes called self-directed learning. So, I got a few books from the library and started reading to and from work. What I learned not only confirmed to me that I should quit my masters, but it produced a mental shift that has literally changed my life.

I came to see that self-directed learning isn’t just one way to learn, it is the way to learn. Its effectiveness far outweighs any other mode of learning. When an individual brings their heart and their lives to their study, learning is not only effective and relevant, it’s exhilarating! That kind of learning helps you grow and reach your goals.

But it all starts with a question and the “desire to inquire.” More on that, next week.