Good on Paper

A friend and I have thrown around the phrase "things that look good on paper" lately. Which has me thinking about the things in my life that have looked good on paper. Things I thought I wanted that didn't turn out so well. Or, truly, those things which I thought I didn't want but have proven to be more than I could have ever wanted, with rewards exceeding my imagination.

Chemistry. I always tell my students (though they never believe me) that they should keep an open mind about their future college major and subsequent career, because one never knows exactly how it will all end up. When I was in high school, I didn't exactly hate chemistry, but I was surely a long way from loving it. But I could easily say that the last thing I thought I would ever do was teach chemistry. Teaching itself wasn't necessarily out of the realm of possibility, but chemistry sure was. Fast forward 15 years... and I love it. I have to believe I'm doing exactly what I was created to do - it's the hardest, most consuming work I've ever done, but I adore it. My former meteorology job was perfect on paper - a balanced blend of aesthetics and science, artful design and technical skill. But something was missing. Looking back, I believe this might have been people. Or else a sense of universal significance and purpose. It slowly grew less challenging. I could spend an entire 8-hour day without a single in-person interaction. I grew restless. The perfect job on paper... wasn't. But the wholly imperfect job on paper? most days I can hardly believe my good fortune and privilege.

Boys. Whenever I envisioned myself raising children, I always said I wanted to have girls. - never sons. [Funny that Belated Promise Ring ("my Rebecca says she never wants a boy" just shuffled onto the ipod - now waiting for Upward Over the Mountain to follow it...]. First, I am one, so I figured it would be easier, since I knew how girls worked. Second, the clothes and accessories and toys of girls are way cuter and more fun. Yet, one look at the students with whom I've developed close relationships, they are almost overwhelmingly boys. Adopted sons, if you will (though maybe I prefer thinking of them more as nephews, or even younger brothers). Not to say that girls don't spend time in my classroom, but they are certainly outnumbered. To mentor them, I've had to learn so much about boys/men and what makes them tick. I don't know whether I'm being prepared to be a mother of sons or whether I'm simply to continue shaping others' sons, or whether it's all just a function of the subject matter I teach, or my approachability... but it's certainly the opposite demographic I ever expected to be "raising."

Central Florida. When I came for a conference in 2002, I distinctly remember saying to myself, "How could anyone live here? It's completely soulless!" Fast-forward three years, and guess who is moving here? Granted, I try to minimize my time in the tourist districts (the location where the aforementioned statement was made), and I'm not entirely unconvinced this place is devoid of soul; I can can at least make peace with it.