Tuesday, March 4, 2014

When I Grow Up

When I was a little girl and asked what I wanted to be when I grew up, I would answer with one of these three occupations: teacher, cheerleader, writer.

The teacher thing didn't work out as I had expected; while I have a Master of Arts in History, I tried teaching college and found it wasn't for me. Instead, I work with students on a different level, and help them transfer to four-year universities to achieve their dreams.

I never was a cheerleader in high school - pom/dance try-outs were the week before cheer and I made the pom squad. I was lucky - even winning a chance to go to London and dance in the New Year's Day parade!

Writer. Well in my head, I am one. I have a blog. I have my notebook at home. I have about 100 notebooks, journals, and tablets of stories and poems in boxes under the bed and in the crawl space:
  • my first book of haikus in a yellow notebook, told from the viewpoint of a 5th grader
  • my favorite book of poems filled with teen-aged angst and rebellion
  • my black and white notebook with my first vampire story
And many more, too many to list.

Sometimes I wonder what I am doing with my life. I have a career, but it is not the one I imagined.  Or is it?

Teacher - Who shows my children right from wrong? How to tie their shoes? Or make their beds? I teach the harder things too - what to do when a classmate is mean, how to act when a driver cuts me off, what was slavery and why did we do it?

Cheerleader - I am my children's biggest cheerleader! When they do well in school or help out at home, I give them praise (despite what some parenting blogs may say!). When my husband runs his races, I cheer from the sidelines and wait at the finish line. When a student calls me with a problem, I go out of my way to help him or her to get what is needed.

Writer - I write here. Some people read it. Is that what it takes to be a writer? Someone to read your words? Or is it just the ability to put pen to paper (because in the long run, I'm pretty old fashioned)? Does what I write matter? Is it any good? Can I be a writer if no one sees it?

I've been thinking lately of plans. Yesterday's post talked of life being short. Today I wonder if I'm making a difference. Did I grow up to be what I set out to be? Or did I just grow up to be ME?


4 comments:

Maurissa said...

Nicely said. My life has turned out completely differently than I thought it would, but that's okay. Love your blog, BTW.

Kathy @ SMART Living 365.com said...

I don't think any of us turn out the way quite expected from when we were young--but in my case (and many others) it is WAY-AY-AY better than what I could even imagine. You are definitely a teacher, a cheerleader AND a writer. Just don't stop!

Tima said...

I love how you became everything you dreamed about. Mwa

Barb Marshall said...

No doubt that you ARE a writer! Love your reflections on this and being a stationery loving gal myself, I love that you have loads of journals. Indeed, we are our "own authors of our life story." Visiting via SITSgirls saturday linkup