Most of my life I've thought about circles and spirals. The kinds that bring you around again to a point in time, or a place in space that seems destined and unavoidable, though perhaps delayed for various reasons. Lately, I've been reminded of forks in my road that may have delayed or changed the point of meeting some people that have become dear to me.
Some circles are fairly easy to identify as they seem to create tighter spirals. In thinking about these tight spirals, I find myself wondering which other circles may be intersecting. A new friend who feels like an old friend and lives and works where we lived when we first moved here. Minor changes in course over the past 20 years, and we easily could have met earlier. The same could be said for a few other people I've met recently who may or may not become good friends, but who are nevertheless important to me at the moment. And I wonder if those multiple circles are meant to intertwine.
An interesting circle that's crossed my mind lately is much bigger. Possibly the biggest circle I've come across, and, therefore, likeliest to be a long-shot. (Although I've come to understand the unlikelihood of mere coincidence.) When Ronald Reagan was elected, I had my first thoughts about a career path. The hostages in Iran were released, and the news was all about what sanctions might be brought, where exactly international waters were, and whether there really was a fear of "cowboy justice." I was completely intrigued by the field of International Law. According to our encyclopedia (which had been published roughly 15 years before I was born), there was no such field, per se. Nevertheless, when I went to high school, I enrolled in French and Spanish. By the time I graduated, I had taken 5 years of each language, and a year of Russian, as well. I would have taken Greek, happily, but the class was held after school, I had a job in the evenings. My goal, having largely forgotten the law aspect, was to be an interpreter at the UN. For various reasons that had less validity than I realized at the time, but as I started getting college catalogs in the mail, one particularly colorful cover caught Dad's eye.
Catholic University had nothing to offer in the Hospitality field I was then considering, but it was the right distance away from home and was near a city Dad traveled to on business. (I didn't realize how important that was to him until I eventually graduated from a school near another city he visited often.) It did have some interesting law majors--including International Law. I was also fascinated by the offerings in Canon law. I seriously considered changing my college goals, but I was talked out of it by my guidance counselor. (Law is no field for a smart young woman like you. And what good would a course in canon law be for a woman at all?) Honestly, it wasn't that hard for me to toss the thought aside: when I was in 8th grade, we went to DC for some reason, went to Mass at the Cathedral, and while there, all our clothes were stolen from our car. I was, interestingly, more upset that my favorite skirt, top and dressy sandals were gone forever than I was about any "violation." I remember Dad saying that anyone who would steal from a car in a church parking lot clearly was more in need of what they took than we were. I was not quite sure I agreed....
Again I was reminded of my early interest when I took my Hospitality Law class. I loved it. I loved the instructor--a crusty older guy with a quirky sense of humor, and a weird way of trying to awe us. (He once told us how to commit the "perfect murder" that would be impossible to be convicted of, even if we were caught, because there would be no evidence. All we would leave would be circumstantial. Odd and creepy.) I loved the way he argued that Connecticut should be outlawed, and there should then be a way to teleport from the end of I-95 in Rhode Island to the beginning in New York. Most of all, I loved the content. I loved everything about tort, proving cases, finding precedents, writing up something like 6 cases per week. (One case study was about the signage in a parking garage. I was in heaven!) At the beginning of class on the first day, he told us the only way to get a good grade in his class was to work. One hour of homework each day, and we could expect a D-C; 2 hours, a solid C. An A would require, at minimum, 4 hours of homework per night. If we managed to do less work and get the grade we wanted, we were to let him know. He'd retire. I accepted the challenge, and pulled off an A--with an hour and a half of work dedicated to Law each morning. Total. Everything about it made sense to me. I wanted to change my major.
Unfortunately, I was stubborn. I had one more trimester of classes left. I had already decided that I was going to take the Associates degree and run. I had already convinced Dad that working for a couple of years and going back to school was the best thing for me. I had already decided that instead of having a career in Recreation and Leisure Management, I was supposed to be an English teacher. But I had fallen in love with Law. When the professor told us that the school had approved a Sports Law class for the following year, and that anyone who had ever had an A in his class would get first shot at it, and that he didn't expect any women to have any interest, I was sooooooo tempted to re-enroll in school, just for that class.
I wonder now if I had followed that pull to law, would I still be at this place at some point in my life. If I would still have the people in my life that support, guide, challenge me on a regular basis. (One of whom teaches law at Catholic. Although I wouldn't have met him while I was in college, had I followed my first instinct, we may have crossed paths professionally.) If it's too late to jump into the legal waters. I'm not a shark. But the types of law I was interested in didn't (seem) to require that type of personality. In no way do I feel unfulfilled. Just a continued curiosity. One that, likely, many would not understand, and insist that if I think about it, I must have regrets. I do not. Not in the least. I see that a circle has come full around, and I feel peace. Curiosity is not, for me, something that gets in the way of peace. Curiosity is something that drives me to continue to grow, to learn, to move forward.
Showing posts with label college major. Show all posts
Showing posts with label college major. Show all posts
Sunday, July 28, 2013
Saturday, February 18, 2012
18 february 2012
Dear Dad,
Been thinking about you and your red sneakers lately. Guess I'm wishing we could go for a walk, the way we always did before the boys were born. Thinking about it now, I wonder why we stopped taking those day trips and walking around looking at stuff--and looking for a great ice cream or fro-yo shop. You had such a knack for finding them! Nowadays, I would think you had Googled them before we left, but there was nothing but your good nose, and maybe some work connection that had visited before. Today, I'm wishing we could do that again. My guys don't see ice cream as a treat so much; rather, to them it's a staple. Sorry about that. I still remember, though.
Anyway, with Jonathan's college search, I find myself remembering our discussions from my own days debating my options. This morning, at Drew's Confirmation breakfast Mass, Msgr King encouraged the parents and sponsors to allow and encourage our confirmandi to make life decisions; to learn who they are, to make mistakes, to cry, to rejoice, and to grow into the adults they are destined to be. I had a wonderful example in you. Although, looking back, there is a part of me that wishes you and Mom and my teachers had just flat out told me what to do, I do appreciate that you left my college choices to me. I remember the late night talks we'd have in the kitchen, discussing the relative merits of fields of study as diverse as Social Work and International Law, the reasons Hotel/Restaurant Management was perfect for me, and then, of course, why Hotel/Restaurant Management was so not me, so clearly I should change my major to Recreation and Leisure Management. And after that, why it made such perfect sense for me to leave school with an AS, and go back in two years or so to get a Bachelor's in Secondary Education, so I could be an English teacher. There are times when I wish I could have told you that I wish fewer people had told me I had the talents and intelligence to be whatever I wanted to be. I don't know if I ever told you that my real dream was to go to SUNY Purchase and study dance. God only knows what I had planned to do with the rest of my life, but not having the nerve to audition has been the only real regret I've ever had. I doubt that I told you, because I'm fairly certain you would have gladly taken me, and waited outside the door, and given me one of those wonderful left-arm hugs before I even had a chance to change my shoes. We're trying to be as open-minded and supportive of Jonathan. It's scary and exciting all at once, and I wish you were here to reassure us, to give us pointers. To offer one of those hugs that had a way of making everything okay.
We're slowly working on some of those house projects I'd hoped you would be able to help with. The boys have pulled up that hideous carpet, and we just need to decide what we'll do with the floor now. The chimney still need to be tiled, and I was just looking at the ceiling today and remembering how devoted you were to breaking off each and every one of the 'stalagtites' in the bathroom and the front bedrooms when we moved in. They do--still--look far better than they had, and I thank you for it every time I look up at them. The kitchen is the next thing on the agenda, I think, and every time I think about it, I picture you, Guy and Ryan debating who should be the first to break through the wall to the outside. Sometimes, I look around and think that you would have helped get some project or other done faster, but then I remember that even if you had moved here, you'd be busy, too. You'd have made a life here, and many of the projects would have taken a backseat to life--just like they do now. And I smile with relief. We're doing okay; the best we can with what we have, as far as time and money. It'll all be okay.
So, in a nutshell, I guess I want to make sure you know that we're doing well. I'm doing okay. There are ups and downs, and times when I get angry, confused, frustrated, lonely, but there are more times when I see the blessings in my life: the boys (including Guy), our home, our jobs, our friends and families. Life is really good. It would be better if you were here, but we--I--have to make the most of what we have today. What could have been is fine to think about now and then, but it's only made up. Realness helps to make what could be possible. That's my focus. Thank you for giving me the strength to be me; for encouraging me to make my own life happen. That helped me to find the people I need when I find myself faltering. I love you. I miss you with all my heart--often. But now, it's more often a gentle tug, and feels almost 'right.'
Have a piece of cake for me, and I'll do the same.
Happy Birthday!
Love,
Stephania
xoxo
Been thinking about you and your red sneakers lately. Guess I'm wishing we could go for a walk, the way we always did before the boys were born. Thinking about it now, I wonder why we stopped taking those day trips and walking around looking at stuff--and looking for a great ice cream or fro-yo shop. You had such a knack for finding them! Nowadays, I would think you had Googled them before we left, but there was nothing but your good nose, and maybe some work connection that had visited before. Today, I'm wishing we could do that again. My guys don't see ice cream as a treat so much; rather, to them it's a staple. Sorry about that. I still remember, though.
Anyway, with Jonathan's college search, I find myself remembering our discussions from my own days debating my options. This morning, at Drew's Confirmation breakfast Mass, Msgr King encouraged the parents and sponsors to allow and encourage our confirmandi to make life decisions; to learn who they are, to make mistakes, to cry, to rejoice, and to grow into the adults they are destined to be. I had a wonderful example in you. Although, looking back, there is a part of me that wishes you and Mom and my teachers had just flat out told me what to do, I do appreciate that you left my college choices to me. I remember the late night talks we'd have in the kitchen, discussing the relative merits of fields of study as diverse as Social Work and International Law, the reasons Hotel/Restaurant Management was perfect for me, and then, of course, why Hotel/Restaurant Management was so not me, so clearly I should change my major to Recreation and Leisure Management. And after that, why it made such perfect sense for me to leave school with an AS, and go back in two years or so to get a Bachelor's in Secondary Education, so I could be an English teacher. There are times when I wish I could have told you that I wish fewer people had told me I had the talents and intelligence to be whatever I wanted to be. I don't know if I ever told you that my real dream was to go to SUNY Purchase and study dance. God only knows what I had planned to do with the rest of my life, but not having the nerve to audition has been the only real regret I've ever had. I doubt that I told you, because I'm fairly certain you would have gladly taken me, and waited outside the door, and given me one of those wonderful left-arm hugs before I even had a chance to change my shoes. We're trying to be as open-minded and supportive of Jonathan. It's scary and exciting all at once, and I wish you were here to reassure us, to give us pointers. To offer one of those hugs that had a way of making everything okay.
We're slowly working on some of those house projects I'd hoped you would be able to help with. The boys have pulled up that hideous carpet, and we just need to decide what we'll do with the floor now. The chimney still need to be tiled, and I was just looking at the ceiling today and remembering how devoted you were to breaking off each and every one of the 'stalagtites' in the bathroom and the front bedrooms when we moved in. They do--still--look far better than they had, and I thank you for it every time I look up at them. The kitchen is the next thing on the agenda, I think, and every time I think about it, I picture you, Guy and Ryan debating who should be the first to break through the wall to the outside. Sometimes, I look around and think that you would have helped get some project or other done faster, but then I remember that even if you had moved here, you'd be busy, too. You'd have made a life here, and many of the projects would have taken a backseat to life--just like they do now. And I smile with relief. We're doing okay; the best we can with what we have, as far as time and money. It'll all be okay.
So, in a nutshell, I guess I want to make sure you know that we're doing well. I'm doing okay. There are ups and downs, and times when I get angry, confused, frustrated, lonely, but there are more times when I see the blessings in my life: the boys (including Guy), our home, our jobs, our friends and families. Life is really good. It would be better if you were here, but we--I--have to make the most of what we have today. What could have been is fine to think about now and then, but it's only made up. Realness helps to make what could be possible. That's my focus. Thank you for giving me the strength to be me; for encouraging me to make my own life happen. That helped me to find the people I need when I find myself faltering. I love you. I miss you with all my heart--often. But now, it's more often a gentle tug, and feels almost 'right.'
Have a piece of cake for me, and I'll do the same.
Happy Birthday!
Love,
Stephania
xoxo
Thursday, August 4, 2011
on the road
We did this morning's run last night. Travel gets in the way of routine, usually in a good way. This morning, Guy drove south to put Mom on a plane west, and Jonathan and I will drive north to visit colleges. Although I'm looking forward to the trip, a part of me still wishes it would be a family vacation. Working summers puts a cramp in that "summer vacation" groove. This is beginning to sound melancholy, but that's not how I feel at all!
So many times I hear people say how sad they are about their children heading off to college. I am so excited for Jonathan! I remember choosing a college and a major, shopping and packing, driving off and moving in. What an amazing transitional time college is! On one's own, but with a safe haven to return to; meeting people from all over, and choosing who to associate with closely, and who to keep at arm's length; that feeling of having a hand in one's future for the first time, truly. I love turning points!
Not too long ago, Jonathan was not terribly interested in looking at colleges. He wanted to go, but felt pressured to choose. At first, I didn't understand, and felt, for the first time, that we could not talk it out. It took a while, but he finally told me that he didn't know who and what he wanted to be; that it's not fair or right that he should have to plan his entire future when he is sixteen years old. To his surprise, I agreed. Because I don't think it's fair or right, either.
Certainly, there are people who know all their lives that they want to be doctors, nurses, butchers, bakers and candlestick makers, but I was not one of them myself. Or rather, I was, but there was no college major that could make me a Momma. That's who I always wanted to be. I went to college and chose a major based on what was expected of me. Aptitude tests and the suggestions of the adults around me determined my original major: Hotel/Restaurant Management. I changed to Recreation/Leisure Management when it became clear to me that I was not cut out for a 24-hour, out of the house job. In all honesty, I should have started over with one of my dreams: dance, photography, helicopters, international law.....but it just wasn't something I could do at the time. The last thing I ever wanted to do was disappoint. Who? Anyone. At the time, I was far more concerned with disappointing others than I was with letting myself down. I don't want that for my children.
With my boys, I try to talk about options, and the whys and hows. I encourage them to talk to others about their experiences and the paths that led them where they are. I tell them about the choices I have made, the sacrifices that have resulted, and the dreams I have yet to reach for. The far-fetched, I've learned, are sometimes the best and most relative ideas--the ones that truly reflect one's potential. The last thing I want is for fear to dictate who and what my children become. My sons, you cannot disappoint me if you are true to yourselves.
Some may read this and misunderstand, thinking that I have regrets, that I am bitter, or sad. The truth is, I would not be who I am if not for these experiences and realizations. Life is a lesson, a series of them, really, and I am a learner. Sometimes I try to explain myself as a teacher, but that's only because "learner" is harder to explain, to qualify. Recently, I've been working on doing less explaining and qualifying. I've been working on listening to myself, as well as those around me. I still have so much to learn, and I want to continue to learn right along with my sons.
Two colleges in three days. Visiting the schools is important, but what I'm most looking forward to is the time in the car with Jonathan; the talks, the music, the growing up we will both do this weekend, and every day forward.
So many times I hear people say how sad they are about their children heading off to college. I am so excited for Jonathan! I remember choosing a college and a major, shopping and packing, driving off and moving in. What an amazing transitional time college is! On one's own, but with a safe haven to return to; meeting people from all over, and choosing who to associate with closely, and who to keep at arm's length; that feeling of having a hand in one's future for the first time, truly. I love turning points!
Not too long ago, Jonathan was not terribly interested in looking at colleges. He wanted to go, but felt pressured to choose. At first, I didn't understand, and felt, for the first time, that we could not talk it out. It took a while, but he finally told me that he didn't know who and what he wanted to be; that it's not fair or right that he should have to plan his entire future when he is sixteen years old. To his surprise, I agreed. Because I don't think it's fair or right, either.
Certainly, there are people who know all their lives that they want to be doctors, nurses, butchers, bakers and candlestick makers, but I was not one of them myself. Or rather, I was, but there was no college major that could make me a Momma. That's who I always wanted to be. I went to college and chose a major based on what was expected of me. Aptitude tests and the suggestions of the adults around me determined my original major: Hotel/Restaurant Management. I changed to Recreation/Leisure Management when it became clear to me that I was not cut out for a 24-hour, out of the house job. In all honesty, I should have started over with one of my dreams: dance, photography, helicopters, international law.....but it just wasn't something I could do at the time. The last thing I ever wanted to do was disappoint. Who? Anyone. At the time, I was far more concerned with disappointing others than I was with letting myself down. I don't want that for my children.
With my boys, I try to talk about options, and the whys and hows. I encourage them to talk to others about their experiences and the paths that led them where they are. I tell them about the choices I have made, the sacrifices that have resulted, and the dreams I have yet to reach for. The far-fetched, I've learned, are sometimes the best and most relative ideas--the ones that truly reflect one's potential. The last thing I want is for fear to dictate who and what my children become. My sons, you cannot disappoint me if you are true to yourselves.
Some may read this and misunderstand, thinking that I have regrets, that I am bitter, or sad. The truth is, I would not be who I am if not for these experiences and realizations. Life is a lesson, a series of them, really, and I am a learner. Sometimes I try to explain myself as a teacher, but that's only because "learner" is harder to explain, to qualify. Recently, I've been working on doing less explaining and qualifying. I've been working on listening to myself, as well as those around me. I still have so much to learn, and I want to continue to learn right along with my sons.
Two colleges in three days. Visiting the schools is important, but what I'm most looking forward to is the time in the car with Jonathan; the talks, the music, the growing up we will both do this weekend, and every day forward.
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