(please refer to my 1st blog post, Stories...We All Have Them).
At least this story is scary to me.
It is therefore difficult for me to talk about.
Sometimes, it hurts me physically to talk about it.
But this story needs to be told,
not because I have a particular audience in mind that needs to hear it.
I just need to tell it.
And I need somebody to listen.
Anyway, here we go...
It's May. The month of graduations.
My graduation.
From college.
FINALLY.
This story is long and complicated,
so I am going to be splitting it up between a few posts.
From the time a child begins school
(even earlier in some cases),
they are repeatedly asked "The Question".
We are all familiar with "The Question."
Everyone of us has had this question put to them numerous times
and everyone of us has given 100s of different answers to "The Question"
over the course of our lives.
What is "The Question"?
"The Question" is: "What do you want to be when you grow up?"
As a child, this question is actually pretty easy to answer.
"A Fireman", a stout little guy answers
because ever since he saw his first firetruck
he's been completely enthralled with the profession.
"A Ballerina" is a sweet little seven-year-old girl's response
because her mom took her to see The Nutcracker at Christmas time last year
and she was totally swept away by the magic of it all.
It is my theory that adults ask a child "The Question"
simply to hear what the child will say.
And we all know, "...kids say the darndest things!"
(For the sake of information, I did dream of being a ballerina...
Oh, and a florist...)
As a child grows and matures,
"The Question" takes on more weight and significance.
When a child is in Jr and Senior High School,
he/she is "supposed to" have at least an idea of a legitimate career in their heads when
"The Question" is put to them.
To put it simply, this was NOT the case with me.
When High School graduation was staring me in the face,
I honestly did not have a clue what I wanted to be when I grew up.
For years, I had been fed a constant diet of "You HAVE to go to college"
by my mother and youth leaders.
Therefore, I knew that to be the logical choice.
However, I had no clue what to study.
Also, I did not have any funds set aside for college
and I had been denied financial aid,
so the idea of just going to school
and seeing what classes appealed to me
was pretty much out of the question.
To say the least, I was stumped.
Frustrated...and stumped.
I graduated from High School in May 2005.
That summer, I was given the WONDERFUL opportunity
to spend a month in Mexico City
with my Missionary cousins, Holley and Daniel Drost.
Right before I left on that trip,
a neighbor of mine from up the block
randomly appeared on my doorstep
and told me about a job opportunity at her place of employment.
She was an X-ray Technologist at one of the local hospitals.
She informed me that the hospital was looking to fill several
positions in the Medical Imaging Department.
She told me that being an X-ray Tech was difficult but she really thought I could do it.
She encouraged me to fill out a job application
and lead me to believe I was a shoo-in for at least one of the positions.
So, I followed her advice.
I filled out a job application,
dropped it off at the hospital,
and left the country for a month,
fully believing I would have a job waiting for me when I returned.
I never heard a word from the hospital.
(Reading over what I have written thus far,
I fully realize how naive I've made myself out to be.
I was and still am at times
VERY NAIVE.
That's just the simple truth of it.)
To be continued...
and she was totally swept away by the magic of it all.
It is my theory that adults ask a child "The Question"
simply to hear what the child will say.
And we all know, "...kids say the darndest things!"
(For the sake of information, I did dream of being a ballerina...
Oh, and a florist...)
As a child grows and matures,
"The Question" takes on more weight and significance.
When a child is in Jr and Senior High School,
he/she is "supposed to" have at least an idea of a legitimate career in their heads when
"The Question" is put to them.
To put it simply, this was NOT the case with me.
When High School graduation was staring me in the face,
I honestly did not have a clue what I wanted to be when I grew up.
 |
| I apologize for the distortion...this photo is an OLD scan... |
by my mother and youth leaders.
Therefore, I knew that to be the logical choice.
However, I had no clue what to study.
Also, I did not have any funds set aside for college
and I had been denied financial aid,
so the idea of just going to school
and seeing what classes appealed to me
was pretty much out of the question.
To say the least, I was stumped.
Frustrated...and stumped.
I graduated from High School in May 2005.
That summer, I was given the WONDERFUL opportunity
to spend a month in Mexico City
with my Missionary cousins, Holley and Daniel Drost.
a neighbor of mine from up the block
randomly appeared on my doorstep
and told me about a job opportunity at her place of employment.
She was an X-ray Technologist at one of the local hospitals.
She informed me that the hospital was looking to fill several
positions in the Medical Imaging Department.
She told me that being an X-ray Tech was difficult but she really thought I could do it.
She encouraged me to fill out a job application
and lead me to believe I was a shoo-in for at least one of the positions.
So, I followed her advice.
I filled out a job application,
dropped it off at the hospital,
and left the country for a month,
fully believing I would have a job waiting for me when I returned.
I never heard a word from the hospital.
(Reading over what I have written thus far,
I fully realize how naive I've made myself out to be.
I was and still am at times
VERY NAIVE.
That's just the simple truth of it.)
To be continued...
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