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My college experience is one of unexpected discoveries and rewards. You see, I grew up in a family of engineers, so my college career seemed predestined from the moment I was born. Both my mother and father were chemical engineers, and by the time I was ready to enter college my brother had already completed his undergraduate degree in mechanical engineering in our home state. So I, too, set out to seek a degree in chemical engineering. No one in my family pressured me to study engineering—I made the choice on my own—I just thought it was the best course of action for me. I’d always performed well in math courses and never paid much attention to other potential career paths.

Of course you never know what you’re getting into when you enter your first year in college. During that first year, I took ten courses—a full load, for sure—the majority of which were dedicated to core classes that had nothing to do with chemical engineering. I took a few basic science classes and many more classes in the humanities: I took an introduction to modern American poetry, several world history classes, and a U.S. government course. At first I had a hard time in these courses, as they required copious amount of reading and writing that I thought was pointless because I knew I wanted to be an engineer. What would an engineer need with mind full of modern American poetry?

I initially took these classes without paying much attention. But before too long, I started taking a vested interest in these humanities classes (the modern American poetry one in particular). Poems started to have more meaning to me, and I appreciated hearing my professor’s analyses of the works of celebrated poets. I had grown up thinking poetry was just something that Shakespeare and Dr. Seuss wrote (not that these two aren’t great); nothing worthy of a serious person’s time. But the works of poets like Robert Frost, Charles Bukowski, and especially John Ashbery started to entice me with their challenging style. I devoted more attention to my poetry class than I expected, and got an A in it at the end of the semester.

By the time I was a sophomore I was taking some introductory courses for engineers, and for a while I forgot all about my poetry class. I was taking physics and calculus classes that demanded the entirety of my intellect to figure out, and when I wasn’t studying I was usually working on a group project with classmates. Poetry seemed like a thing of a past, and I didn’t miss it much. But then one night I came upon a poem that my old professor had handed out during one of our classes, one that I must have kept around for some reason, called “Meaningful Love” by John Ashbery. At first the poem presented itself to me like a wall; I couldn’t scale it, but the more I looked at it the more I wanted to understand it and learn from it.

So I resolved to take more poetry classes the following semester, and eventually my growing interest in the art blossomed into a full-fledged devotion. I realized that my true calling was in poetry (much to the initial consternation of my parents) and completed an undergraduate degree in English a few years later. Though I’m no poet myself, my love of poetry set me on the path that I am in now, and it’s one that I would never give up. I’m eternally grateful that I gave myself the chance to look beyond the narrow path that I had set for myself in engineering. It made me the person I am today.

Do you have any great college experiences to share?

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Jemima Lopez is a freelance blogger and writer who writes for Zen College Life, the directory of higher education, distance learning, and best online schools. She welcomes your comments at her email: lopezjemima562 @ gmail.com.