An Honest Education

Going to school in the seventies I was told that I needed to be part of the physically and that if I really tried, I could be anything I wanted to be. By the time I grew up there would be a woman for president and if I wanted, I could walk on the moon. With this in mind, I decided that indeed I wanted to be an astronaut, or at the least an air force pilot. The educators kept telling us this through their curriculum and I continued to believe it. What they did not tell me was how I needed to go about becoming what they had fostered.

While it is true there was a counselor to advise us, the closer I got to graduation, the faster I realized I had no direction. I would ask about pursuing my goals, and they would say study hard. Upon graduation in the early eighties, with diploma in hand, I promptly became a chicken de-beaker for one of the local poultry contractors.

In our little “working-class” town, I was somewhat successful as I was known to be a hard worker, industrious, and someone who earned their way. Of my graduating class, I can only remember maybe 4 of my peers who went to college, which was mostly because their parents insisted upon it; two of them graduated. This was not an idea I found pushed in the school system, unless the student had an outlined plan for their future. For the rest of us, we were told to work hard…make something of ourselves.

In seeing that my jobs were getting me nowhere, I decided to go to a local vo-tech where it was decided that I should be a diesel mechanic. I loved the theory part of class, and even the lab, but quickly realized I did not want to be a diesel mechanic, so I quit. After a few more years of work, I found myself leaning back on the same conclusion of needing an education, which ended up sending me on to a technical school to become a “HVAC” engineer (heat and air serviceman), thanks to a wonderfully crafted Television commercial. Once again, I loved the theory and lab, but hated the practical part of what the outcome would be. I had no desire to fix someone’s air conditioner! After graduation I became a hard worker again.

I wound up working in a specialized human service industry where I worked hard and made my way up from the lowest level, to the position of second in command alongside another hard worker. I had finally realized some amount of success and was told that upon the retirement of my superior, I would be the best qualified for the position. Things were good, and the time of his retirement came as I had been grooming myself for the step up. Was I ever ready!

The outcome was a little different than I had expected. It was decided that a college intern that worked there would be the perfect fit for this position, so I settled in staying where I was, as I was told that I should feel honored to have the position I currently held, especailly in light of the fact that I had no college education. A year later and the place of some twenty-five years shut its doors. Now this couldn’t be due the lack of experience on the part of the educated director, but more along the lines of a poor economy, (not like the company hadn’t weathered hard times before).

While in an admittable amount of disbelief and shock, I still held a certain degree of hope for the future. In my former position, I had worked alongside engineers, HR directors, and plant managers of many national and international businesses. I was in the know, had the contacts, and a list of great references that would open any door. Another thing, which boosted my confidence, was the fact that many of the corporate people I worked with, made less money than me, and surely I could walk into their world with little problem…my hard work and good attitude would carry me through. In fact, many of the lower level line workers were college graduates and this served as a boost to me in the thought that it was the person and not the pedigree that insured success. The reception I found was a little different than I expected though. While I was experienced, the “good” jobs were reserved for those with college degrees. All my “hard work” just wasn’t enough.

Back in 1983 with dream in hand, I had not the faintest idea of the course life would take. Some twenty years later I find myself going to college, which is what I would have done in the first place had someone told me the truth. I now have professors younger than me who are trained in areas of scholarship, yet have no practical experiences in the field. I sit and listen to them teach what I have experienced, and know their recipe will not always work. I have to take classes of no interest but high expense in order to attain a degree that will allow me to “work hard.” I am guaranteed no success, but rather, am being enlightened. I have found that I need to be tolerant of everything…don’t weigh the intent or outcome, just tolerate. I am disciplined to concentrate on the mechanics more than the idea, and that conservative republicans are evil, but there is no God. I am learning to embrace all religions of the world and to shun Christianity. The most important thing I am finding is that in the United States of America, a country with English as it’s national language, I will not be allowed to gain my college diploma without learning the Spanish language. I am definitely getting an education. In all fairness though, there are a few exceptions I have found, and they are truly professors of scholarship and have my respect.

As I sit in class with student’s young enough to be my children, I wonder what they have been taught. They have shared much knowledge in how we shouldn’t harvest trees; some have learned it is wrong to eat meat, and that they are ahead of the game due to their lack of judgment against their (his or her) fellow citizens of the world. I have also found them for the most part, are not educated in any of the hard sciences, and many can only spell their own name with any degree of confidence. Good portions of them are from split, mixed, or single parent families, and I can safely say some have even functioned as the head of their family. This bothers me much.

In wondering what went wrong for these students, and how they got where they are I have realized that it is my generation that was at the helm. The ones who were pushed to dream and be whatever they wanted to be. The girl sitting by me in class just might be the daughter of "Madame President." Yes, it was my generation who went from dreams to despair and in such, has birthed a generation of disregard and submission through the guise of tolerance.

It would seem that I was the product of an open ended agenda. My childhood education was little more than me being a product of manufacture for one of the strongest businesses in the country; the public school system. Their intent was not for my best interest, but to produce another cog for the machine, which is now wearing out. Tell me what I want to hear and I just might follow you all the way to hell. Oh, "Hell" doesn't exist...nevermind.

There is so much more I would like to say on this subject, but I must wrap it up, as I am expecting a call from N.A.S.A!