Revolution, Baby!

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I didn’t get to vote and I didn’t even get to voice my thoughts – something I am not used to.  If I’ve got something to say, then you might as well get comfortable.  You may get up when I am finished.  I was informed that I would be attending a professional development, all-day meeting in a town over an hour away.  “But I…..”  There was no one listening.

And so, I dutifully prepared for a sub and planned this day around a week that would include my husband’s gall bladder surgery just one day before.  I won’t go so far as to say that I grumbled… ok, YES!  You broke me down!  I grumbled (out of ear shot of administration, obviously.  I’m not stupid).

I made sure Hubs was settled in for the day and then pointed the nose of my gold minivan to Meeting Nirvana.  The roads were icy and freezing rain pelted the windows of the quasi-hippie mobile.  More grumbling.

I arrived early – a rarity for me.  You know the person that always opens the door about five minutes into the meeting/presentation/wedding/graduation/funeral?  Yeah, that’s usually me.  Just ask the man with no gall bladder. 

I pasted on my brightest Middle-Aged Barbie smile and found a cushiony chair next the first arrivee.  A woman I judged to be a tad older than myself (I know, I KNOW… I should never try to guess ages… but I DO), sat in the cushiony chair next to mine.  We shared Middle-Aged Barbie smiles and the meeting commenced.  Of course, no meeting can possibly launch without the obligatory introductions all around.  I actually love these.   I like to talk and I like to be the center of attention.  Introductions are the perfect blend of these two things for me, like Milky Way bars and stretchy pants. 

When my turn came for intros, I put the smile back on (people don’t tend to notice your wrinkles as much when you smile lots) and launched into my life story.  I was just wrapping up the year I turned eight when I noticed I had taken up more than my allotted time and ended hurriedly with, “… and that’s how I became a teacher when I was forty-seven…”

The chick next to me, the one who was now expected to share her introduction in a millisecond in order to compensate for my filibuster, gave a hurried description, then ended hers with,”… and that’s how I came to teach only three years ago.”  My blond, quasi-hippie head snapped in her direction and my synapses started firing at mach speed.  I stared for a full three seconds before breaking into a laugh.  “YOU are a new teacher TOOOOO?????”  She smiled with decorum (holy cow, why can’t I learn to be less theatrical and have more class like her??)  “I am,” she said with pride.  We grinned at one another.   The rest of the room faded into nothingness.  I wanted to talk to this lady and hear her entire story.  We were instantly connected.

When the Introduction Train had chugged a few more teachers down the track, I turned once again to my new Soul Sister and peppered her with questions.  “Where did you go to school?  Why did you wait?  What made you decide to teach?”  We whispered like the first grade girls we constantly caution to “quiet down and pay attention” all day long.

Turns out like me, she wanted to raise a family first, but had always thought about teaching.  She decided to take the plunge about the same time I did.  “Were you nervous about the technology end of teaching?”  I asked my new comrade.  “Oh gracious, yes!  But once I got over my fear and learned to be adventurous with it, I was just fine.”  She puffed out her chest just a little, and I did too.  We were so proud of us.  We were Lewis and Clark conquering the unknown.  We were Buzz Aldrin and Neil Armstrong landing on the moon.  We too had faced and conquered.  We are an unstoppable force.  We are women, hear us roar.

I had a momentary flashback of all of those university classes I had had with twenty-year-olds and how out of place I had felt week after week.  Don’t get me wrong, my classmates were incredibly kind and inclusive – really, extraordinarily so.  Amazingly, some still keep in touch with me.  But I felt the chasm, regardless.  The first day of classes I literally had to will my body down the steps of the library building and into my first class.  I was terrified, and I do not frighten easily. 

But I persevered and I graduated and I became a teacher.  A TEACHER.  And I was only three years away from that nasty envelope that arrived in the mail with the dreaded letters AARP on it. 

And now, I had found another silly girl like myself who was just nervy enough to think that dreams do not have an expiration date.

I think this dream-chasing thing is taking off.  Maybe other women will catch the winds of empowerment and run after the very thing they thought they were too old for. 

Maybe young women will realize that “having it all” is better attained in phases. 

I don’t know...I do know that a person should end their life with zero regrets.

I also know that I have a new hero.  She’s a quasi-hippie with long blond hair who likes to be the center of attention and is chronically late.  And I think the lady next to her today was thinking the same of the brave chick in her own cushiony chair.  For whatever reason, we validated one other and celebrated anew our accomplishments. 

Life should be a kick in the pants.  It just should.  There should be a surprise around every bend and each new chapter should be a joyous journey of discovering that you really are as capable as you hope you are.

Come with me…

Join the revolution, Baby!