Carol:
Introductions and Conclusions
I’m getting a late start on daily theme #111 today because I had a project to get out of the way, an important introduction. I was writing a letter recommending a young lady for a college scholarship. I have written a lot of recommendations over the past 30 years-- students seeking scholarships, college and graduate school admissions, internships and fellow teachers seeking new jobs, admittance to Ph.D. programs, grants for summer projects. But I see that daily theme #111 is not about making introductions but about being introduced. I’m not quite as comfortable or adept about that.
The first experience I had with being introduced to an audience was in 1966. A senior at a Calgary high school, I had been accepted to a women’s college in Missouri and was asked to speak at a convention of Alberta women whose organization supported women’s education. I was pretty shy, but my mother assured me that all the ladies were friendly, just wanted to meet me and didn’t expect me to say anything at the luncheon. I did feel comfortable chatting over lunch, and I did feel okay when the convention head announced my name. But, what happened after she said, “Carol, please come up to the podium and share your story with us” is a complete blank. It’s a blank 46 years later, and it was a blank back then. All I remembered was walking up to the microphone and walking back from the microphone. I heard applause, then my mother assuring me in the car on the way home that I had done a great job, I had not said anything embarrassing, and the ladies had loved me. What else would a mother say!
The last experience I had with being introduced to an audience was in 2010. The occasion was a yearly potluck luncheon, a festive occasion with music and lots of happy noise. The audience was a large group of colleagues, friends and their families brought together to honor employees who had met chronological milestones…5, 10, 15, 20 and so on to retirement. As each milestone was announced, names of staff, faculty and administration were called, honorees stepped up to the podium to receive a token gift and public acknowledgement. Retirees came last, introduced individually. I think there were six of us brought to the podium by our supervisors, who talked about our contributions to the college while the President stood ready to hand us our clocks. I didn’t have to say anything after my Dean introduced me. Thank goodness, because after all this time I am still pretty shy and am uncomfortable being in the spotlight. I just hide it better than I did when I was a teen-ager.
In some ways, those experiences are the book-ends of my academic career. In 1966, I was nervous but excited to go 2000 miles away to college. My friends and I were all going in different directions, and I felt like I was stepping into a whole new life where I had the potential to re-create myself, build a new, more confident identity. I certainly didn’t anticipate then that it would take me 45 years to conclude my academic journey.
Just as I don’t remember what I said when I was being introduced in 1966, I don’t remember what was said about me when I was being introduced in 2010. I do know that as a retired person I feel like I have stepped into a whole new life where I have the potential to re-create myself, build a new, more confident identity.
Let me introduce myself.
Megan:
I wrote yesterday’s essay the day before, or else you wouldn’t have gotten one. On Monday night, I hurt myself while writing in my journal (very dangerous activity). I became sort of paralyzed from my neck down to mid-back, and then excruciating pain set in.
After getting no sleep in my bed, on the floor, or in a chair, my mother took me to the doctor, who diagnosed a severe muscle spasm and introduced me to two medications: Vicodin and Valium.
I’m aware that there are people out there who spend time with these drugs recreationally, but so far my experience has been less euphoric and more a confused lethargy and upset stomach, followed by 14 hours of almost uninterrupted sleep. I would still be asleep but Milo rolled over and kicked me in the face. Bad dog.
Anyway, I expended most of my energy on doing those cartoons for my mother, and now I have a date with a heating pad… so we’ll see how it goes tomorrow.
I wrote yesterday’s essay the day before, or else you wouldn’t have gotten one. On Monday night, I hurt myself while writing in my journal (very dangerous activity). I became sort of paralyzed from my neck down to mid-back, and then excruciating pain set in.
After getting no sleep in my bed, on the floor, or in a chair, my mother took me to the doctor, who diagnosed a severe muscle spasm and introduced me to two medications: Vicodin and Valium.
I’m aware that there are people out there who spend time with these drugs recreationally, but so far my experience has been less euphoric and more a confused lethargy and upset stomach, followed by 14 hours of almost uninterrupted sleep. I would still be asleep but Milo rolled over and kicked me in the face. Bad dog.
Anyway, I expended most of my energy on doing those cartoons for my mother, and now I have a date with a heating pad… so we’ll see how it goes tomorrow.
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