I always struggled with writing. Though I did well on standardized tests, I did much better on the math side than on the English side. I did study languages, though, and learned a lot about my own native one in the process.
In high school, I wrote a lot of papers. My 12th grade history teacher in particular insisted that we write multiple research papers, culminating with a huge project at the end of the year. I did mine on the Triangle Shirtwaist Factory Fire (I got interested when I learned that my great grandfather wrote some of the reform laws in response to the tragedy.) In the absence of the web, I ended up doing a lot of research at the Library of Congress and one of the big labor libraries in DC. I felt really good about the experience. And looking back, writing that paper was a huge accomplishment.
Despite my high school successes, I decided I was terrified of writing. I applied to two colleges, and one required graduates to write a senior thesis. Always thinking ahead, I went with the other college, which was also my parents' alma mater. (That, and there was a *ton* of parental pressure from one of said parents.) In college, I started to major in math, then ended up in French, where, yes, I wrote more papers. I also got deeply involved in writing a paper on the history of birth control for a Soc/Anthro class. I still quote facts from that paper.
I dropped out of college and went back to study computer science. I dutifully took one English course (lots of little papers) and one multi-disciplinary course in which I wrote a paper on AIDS. This was before I could find any published books on the topic, so back to the library I went to peer into reams of microfiche. I wrote another paper I was very happy with. I dug deep and got a lot out of the experience. And I still quote facts from that paper too.
By this time, I had worked my way through sewing costumes for the Boston Ballet and being a secretary (and some-time editor) to a civil engineer at MIT. I was working at Digital Equipment Corporation and managed to apprentice myself to a programmer. I developed code for a while (but nothing normal -- it was all bleeding edge stuff -- and it all got thrown out in the end) until I had my first real dissatisfaction. Only one part of my brain was being used -- the technical side -- and I was working in isolation. Somehow, I ended up doing some writing and liked it. I got to exercise my technical side *and* my liberal arts side and I had to talk to lots of people and I got to do all sorts of research.
Digital started going through hard times and eventually came to the conclusion that it and I needed a divorce. This was devastating to me, and it really did feel that way to me (I'd already gone through one actual divorce by that time, hopefully my last one, so I did know what one felt like. I also realized that I had survived one, so I'd definitely survive this.) Through two more jobs, I found bosses willing to take a chance on me, shoving me into deeper and deeper water, and... I could swim!!
About nine years ago, I realized that I needed to leave my position, though the realization did not come as smoothly as one might think. It came in fits and starts, backs and forths, until the realization was almost made in hindsight. But it all led to a new job at a small company -- 150 people -- doing interesting work and meeting with great success in the market place.
The group had been looking for a technical writer for months and hired me!! I was shoved into deeper and deeper water and kept swimming for all it was worth, and somehow managed to do a good job. My two bosses, Tom and Karl, were wonderful about rewarding me (not that they hesitated to read me the riot act when they felt I needed that too). Great experience. Although the company changed continuously until I left a few months ago, the last set of changes were unbearable for me on so many different levels. I realized that I could sit around and complain about it while dutifully performing my (by then meaningless) little tasks, or I could leave. So I left. That decision didn't come easily either -- it took about six months.
There's been a lot of learning through all of this; certainly I've developed a feeling of confidence about my work, though I also feel there's a lot out there for me to learn. I've never had a career goal, but instead have let the currents carry me. And the currents have done a pretty darned good job, so far at least.
But there's more.
I've done a lot of work on myself, physically and mentally, and I've worked through a tremendous amount of constant pain. It's one of my greatest accomplishments, though not one I talk about a lot because it's so personal and probably boring to others. And also, I'm not exactly cured -- I live with some physical challenges all the time -- but I manage it, and it eats at me far less than it used to decades ago. I live alongside of it, but it doesn't define me like it used to.
In the personal challenges category, I was part of the end-of-life experience for four friends -- I sat with them through their sicknesses, and talked to them about their past and current hopes and aspirations. Talk about learning -- there are few deeper wells. They all had something to say and teach about their careers.
- Mark was an architect who was able to accomplish great things at a young age. Had he lived, I think he would have become one of those famous people with little bands of groupies following him. He designed four stunning buildings before he died at 37. He said one day that his work was a legacy, the way children would have been. They were his mark on the world that would persist long after he was gone. One of the last presents he gave me was his portfolio, a collection of drawings and photographs he'd put together for the job hunt he was planning before he got sick. And after the gift was made, he laid back on a pillow and breathed a sigh of relief. His work was done. He died four months later while I was visiting him.
- Tom was a secretary for the phone company. So what? My mom wouldn't stop yelling at me when I was a secretary. Well, Tom's older sister was the first person in her entire family to go to college. And Tom was the second person to get a professional job, one not in a factory. His family was so proud of him; he had exceeded all their dreams. He died when he was 31.
- Char was a writer. She worked with me as a technical writer, but I think it was secretly so she could get more writing in. She loved to write, and she used her craft to perform great works in the world, saving lives, actually, with some of it.
- And Wynn was an accountant who worked for a Big Firm. Except he was someone who cared deeply about his job and his coworkers. Shortly before he died, a friend and I were sitting with him and heard him doing sums in his head. The friend asked whether he was doing income taxes. Wynn said yes, he had to do them because the deadline was soon. (How did he know? His brain had literally been destroyed by then.) We convinced him that the deadline had passed and that his officemates had done all the work for him. He was worried that it had been a burden for them and we reassured him that everyone had done a little bit and it wasn't hard at all. What a relief. He stopped worrying, got on with the business of dying, and was gone within two days.
Finally, on a much lighter note, I learned, or actually, relearned, a new skill relatively recently, one I've alluded to repeatedly in this narrative. I mentioned earlier that I've been in a lot of pain over my life. This has kept me from pursuing most sports because I'd just end up in more pain. Two years ago, I was walking a lot for exercise and thought I was in fine shape. A doctor convinced me that I had to get in the pool and kick, kick, kick to address some specific issues I was facing. So, I found a pool and joined it. And it turned out I was in lousy shape. I couldn't even swim a length of the pool -- a mere 25 yards -- without getting completely out of breath. Little by little, I learned to swim more. And now I swim three miles a week. It's not a lot, but it's a big accomplishment for me. And I don't hurt worse as a result.
So I've faced lots of challenges, not all successfully, and learned a lot in the process.
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