In 1995, I was in an airplane hanger

It was dark, pitch black.

Is this a dirt floor?

A small rectangular bank of computers surrounded by plexiglass and dimly lit by a faint overhead light stood in the distance. Apart from that, the space was empty.

About 12 of us stood huddled together in dark so thick you could barely make out the person next to you.

Had they blindfolded us before coming here?

A man I didn’t recognize approached our huddle. Backlit by the pale light behind him, his face was in shadow.

What the … ?

What is this … ?

Where am I …?

Is this Treadstone?

Is Jason Bourne here?

But, ultimately, no.

As it turned out, no.

Jason Bourne wasn’t there.

And this wasn’t even Treadstone — or an airplane hanger.

It was a sparsely lit temporary canvas building on a construction site off-campus that would become Santa Monica College’s, SMC’s, Academy of Entertainment & Technology, now the Center for Media and Design.

Ummmm … ?

Huh …?

Whuuu … ?

The man in shadow told us that movie studios like Dreamworks were searching for trained digital animators, with little luck.

So Dreamworks was now partnering with SMC to create them, funding this new Academy and sparkly campus, ground to be broken on the very dirt we stood.

Phil Moriarity, my summer Photography 101 instructor, told us to come here, now, at an address where there was nothing but an empty lot, to attend this initial orientation.

Step forward, he said — into the light, out of the dark.

Literally.

Out of the dark, into the light.

Step forward.

Renowned Jungian psychologist Robert A. Johnson wrote about slender threads, thin wisps of opportunity, destiny, floating by in unexpected moments to whisk us off to a better life, if we’d just grab hold.

Slender threads.

My body lurched forward, launching itself towards the light.

But then, my brain … oh … my brain:

I have too many political science credits, an acceptance letter to decent university. I’m on a poli-sci track. What is digital animation, anyway? What, are you going to be a cartoonist now?

Wipe that smile off your face…. Who are you? … Where do you come from?Are you listening to me? …What do you wanna do with your life?

I broke my stride, slammed down on my right foot, riveted both feet to the ground.

Seconds passed, or was it an eternity, as students swarmed around me, parting to either side, stepping towards the light.

Then, summoning my will, steeling my resolve, I turned around, walked back through the dark, back to the dark, and out the door — to a life away from the faint light in that tent

— but that finally calmed Twisted Sister’s dad down in my head.

You think the fate of universes rides on your one perfect, precious decision. You think this because movies show you this and others have told you so throughout your life.

But that is a lie.

But that was 28 years ago.

Here’s what I’ve learned since: