How I Became an English Major

By Madeline Sinovic

It is astounding to me that some people have always known what they wanted to major in. It’s true that I have kept a journal since I was old enough to write and notebooks from my youth are filled with attempts at scripts, screenplays, and novels. However, it took me five semesters of school and two gap years to arrive at the decision of majoring in English.

Last spring was my first semester at Fordham, and one of my classes was the required Texts and Contexts course. I felt silly on the first day since I was the oldest and had the most credits, but after one class I felt like the most engaged student there. We were studying memoirs and I was able to read the works of Patti Smith, Ishmael Beah, and Ernest Hemingway. The class discussions were stimulating and exciting, as we dissected what it means to write a memoir and how to do a close reading of the authors’ words. I had only taken one English class prior to this, but I knew I wanted more. I was suddenly eager to improve my writing skills and continue analyzing texts. By the end of the spring, I was officially an English major registered for three writing courses for the fall.

Madeline Sinovic

Still, there were many points in my academic path that almost caused me to miss this experience. As I entered college for the first time, I had to make the overwhelming decision of what to major in. I chose aerospace engineering. When asked to elaborate on that decision, I would tell a fragmented story of random motivations and inspirations. It could have been the fact that I had been the only woman in my high school physics class, and that led me to feel like I had something to prove to the world. It could have been the fact that I was obsessed with the movie Interstellar. Or maybe it is just the fact that I am inspired by anything extraordinary, and the intricacies of space fit that bill.

I lasted exactly three semesters in engineering. Although I was interested in the curriculum, I had an endless stream of anxiety coursing through me that signaled something was wrong. A breaking moment came for me late into the semester when I was studying for my materials engineering class, and I felt like I couldn’t do it any longer.

“Mom,” I said through sniffles on the phone, “I think it would be good for me to go abroad for a semester.”

My mother, who had been experiencing second-hand grief from my struggles, was thrilled by this idea. While I suggested I stay on track and take engineering classes in Scotland, she told me to say ‘screw it’ and take some classes that sounded enlightening and interesting. She was giving me permission that I had yet to give myself.

I spent the semester in Scotland studying politics, policy, and art history. I was thrilled to be expanding my knowledge past STEM-oriented information. I was refreshed, energized, and done with engineering. Self-reflection was difficult for me at this point because for the previous two years I had been in the grip of a strict engineering path with no room for consideration. I decided to throw a dart at my passion for politics and try to make a career out of it. I started emailing people connected to the Elizabeth Warren campaign and was hired as an intern, and then a full time organizer not based on any prior experience but on drive and excitement.

Elizabeth Warren and Madeline Sinovic

However, working in politics was not thrilling me either. So two years later I decided to transfer to Fordham and move to New York City. My first semester here was virtual, and I decided to fill it entirely with core classes. I wanted to buy myself enough time to build the confidence to pick a major I was interested in and inspired by. I realized I was no longer comfortable with the safe, expected choice of political science because I was passionate about far too many subjects. I wanted something that was more creative to highlight my interest in writing, that would let me study an array of subjects to honor my seemingly endless interests, and that spoke to the passions I had as a child. I wanted to major in English.

I once believed I had to stay on one set path for the rest of my life, with no room for deviation. However, I understand now that the beauty of life happens when you allow yourself to be continuously inspired and be brave enough to change your mind. Will I stay on a path of literature or writing for the rest of my life? I don’t know. But I do know that I am elated to have papers to write as homework. I know that my classes are the most interesting classes I have ever taken. And I know that I’m proud of myself for honoring the voice inside me that was longing for a major that I relished.