My first day in my new future

Today was the first day of my journey towards realizing a goal that I had here-to-for feared chasing.

Today was my first day of school.

In sixteen years.

After being forced from the facetious world of luxury retail, I found myself, to be cliche, at a crossroads. My health had brought me to realize that I was not physically up to the challenge of a 60 hour work week, nor mentally up to the politics of the corporate world. I was burned out in every way and defeated in a manner that left me jaded and confused. Weeks and months passed as I sought an answer to the bigger dillema now facing me: what was I to do with my life?

I knew I did not want to go back to the retail world. I couldn't see the benefit of supplying unneeded services to the over-priveleged. If I were to take on another go at the working world, it would have to be something that held purpose, meaning, honor, and would make a difference.
After countless dissertations on the lack of moral compass in the world at large, I realized that simply ranting about the ills of the world wouldn't fix them in the slightest. If I saw a glimmer of hope in the future of our soceity, I had to be one of the brave few who might actually make things different, leave a mark, make my voice heard through others.

There were two very important people in my life that imprinted upon me the sacred nature of teaching and of teachers. My great uncle Earl and my great aunt Frannie were both teachers in rural Indiana. A great majority of my youth was spent in their care. Because of the them, I learned to read and write earlier than most. I was encouraged to be curious about the world, to ask questions, to be proud of knowledge.

While I may have benefited early, by the time I got to college, my grades were nothing if not embarassing. Looking back, I should have been ashamed of my lack of discipline, pride, commitment. I sullied all that they worked so hard to instill in me. My parents, too, were soundly slapped in the face by my ignominious tenure. They paid for everything out of pocket. I didn't even have a job during my college years and yet I still managed to squirrel away my time and resources.

I flunked out of college during my Junior year.

Returning home, I was forced to get a job. A friend got me a position as a waiter in a Mexican restaurant. Within a year, I was moving up quickly. Moving on to a new restaurant, I made my way from waiter to Assistant Manager, and in every subsequent job thereafter, I was a training manager and/or a General Manager. While I had failed in following through on the promise of my educational future, I managed to find and follow the example of my Dad in the business world: work hard, keep your word, be loyal, have integrity.

Knowing that I had let my Dad and others down with my education, I vowed to redeem myself in the business world. I was proud that I had accomplished as much as I had without a degree. But knowing that it was missing constantly nagged me. I was embarassed that I had flunked out. The older I got and took on more of my own fiscal responsibilities, the more I felt guilty about wasting my parent's money.

My performance in school, though, kept me from going back. The fear that I was a terrible student, that I would fail again was my excuse for not returning.

Then, as circumstances would play out, I felt I failed at the business world, too, and had once again let my Dad down. Here I was, home, with no job, looking at a future that might just prevent me from being able to do what I had always done. For me, the label "disabled" meant "lazy" because I had no outwardly visable sign of ailment to indicate such a state. Would people think I was shirking responsibility once again because I had to limit what I could do?

So then it was that I found myself at this crossroads, looking for a purpose and a role in the world.

And I knew, after looking back on what I had done in my life, with my life, that I could not allow fear or mistakes in my past dicatate my future.

Knowing that I have an incurable genetic disroder that will govern the remainder of my days made me realize that I had to fight to get back some semblance of control over what path this disease would take me. It had controlled too much of my life in the last five years. No longer. No more.

For once in my life, I would not surrender to fate, but make my own.

My biggest challenge? Impatience.

I am an impatient man. I do not like to wait, for anything. I prefer immediate results. I have never been one to think long term. My only decision that has ever taken "the long term" into account was my marrying Lisa.

What I wanted to do was going to take time. Five years, possibly more. But I had realized my calling and I set upon putting it into motion.

I applied to Portland State University. My transcript from my earlier college years kept me from entering as a transfer student. My GPA was just shy of acceptable. It wasn't a surprise. If anything, my grades were actually a little better than I remembered. I would have to appeal for special consideration for the winter term.

January was too long to wait to get the ball rolling. Considering how far I had to go, I needed to get going. Besides, I was now eager to get back to school. An advisor at PSU recommeded taking relevant courses at the Community College that would transfer over once I achieved admittance to PSU, and it would allow me an easier transition back into school life.

Today was my first day of classes at Portland Community College. I have gotten a student loan and have begun my appeal process with PSU. Although my wife has plenty of experience with the finacial aid processes, I was determined to do it myself. It was important to me that I do it all myself. My goal, my responsibility. My folks did everything for me the first time around. This was going to be all me.

Giddiness would be the best word to describe my mood today. And proud. Proud of myself for eclipsing my fear of failing, of following through with my plan, for not getting discouraged when starting off at PSU became an impossibility, for finding the resources to make it happen.

So what is the goal?

Strangely enough, I accumulated over 70 credits at Western Illinois University. The majority of them in Political Science. The plan is to get my B.A. in Political Science with a minor in Philosophy. Afterwards I will enter the Teaching Certification Program and complete my masters in education.

And then I will teach. High School government and civics.

My passion combined with my experience: politics and teaching.

I've spent years teaching others how to be managers. I have never stopped loving and following all things political.

I will do what I love and what I know. I will fulfill a promise to loved ones now gone. I will finsih what my parents sent me to do 20 years ago. And I will have a say in our future by hopefully making a difference in a few kids' lives.

I can't rant about the world and not do anything to fix what I rant about.

And I can't let my fear of the past dictate my future.

Well, I guess I can be a little afraid: the last time I wrote a term paper, it was on a typewriter.

Seriously.