Today, I went to Emily's senior Medallion brunch, where all the seniors get to stand up and introduce themselves and talk about their studies and future plans. And, of course, they all had big plans for graduate school, fancy jobs in big cities, and saving the world. It was fun - I saw some faculty I knew and worked with back in the day, and of course I love any event with my family (and free food.) It really brought me back, since I was in their shoes nine years ago!
I remember that day very well. I sat nervously while all the other seniors talked about graduate school, fancy jobs in big cities, and saving the world. I was nervous because I really didn't know what I wanted to do with my life. I was getting my teaching degree but didn't know if I really wanted to be a teacher, I liked the idea of graduate school but was tired of studying, and I didn't have the energy or the drive to change the world at that point. My big plan was to substitute teach during the spring (I wasn't graduating until December) and then...do something. I was already engaged to Kevin, and what I really wanted to do was be a stay-at-home mom. But I couldn't very well get up and say that. I was painfully aware that Western Michigan University had invested in me, nurtured me, and wanted me to do great things.
I remember my "speech" very well. When it was my turn, I got up to the podium and said I was majoring in math ed, thesis in graph theory, blah blah, and ended with, "I don't really know what I'm doing after graduation. All I really want to do is have lots of babies, but I'll teach them to love math as much as I do." I was feeling very small, and capable of only small things.
And now, I find myself surrounded by small things - small people, to be exact. And many of my Medallion friends are off doing really great things, seeing the world, working in interesting careers. And I'm in grad school, which is a very different world than child rearing and definitely keeps things interesting. I am reminded that life can be long. I have lots of years ahead of me (I hope!) to figure out what I want to do. Sometimes, yes, I do feel like I'm living a small life in a small town. But recently, I came across the following quote by G. K. Chesterton that helped to change my perspective:
To be Queen Elizabeth within a definite area, deciding sales, banquets, labors, and holidays; to be Whitely within a certain area, providing toys, boots, cakes, and books; to be Aristotle within a certain area, teaching morals, manners, theology, and hygiene; I can understand how this might exhaust the mind, but I cannot imagine how it could narrow it. How can it be a large career to tell other people's children about the Rule of Three, and a small career to tell one's own children about the universe? How can it be broad to be the same thing to everyone and narrow to be everything to someone? No, a woman's function is laborious, but because it is gigantic, not because it is minute.
I'll end there, because Kevin just got home with the girls and I'm too teary to read the computer screen.
