We’re past the days of the new year where we were setting intentions. Now, let’s put our focus on action.
What small steps can you take to move yourself from where you are today to where you want to be in the near future?
When I made the decision that I wanted to get a real college degree, I continued to work full time and attended Continuing Education evening classes. Up until that point, my higher education was a One-Year-Secretarial Certificate.
I can still remember sitting in the classroom in the Formica molded desk/chair scared and intimidated among all those 19–21-year-old young faces. They seemed bored and impatient to be somewhere other than in Freshman Composition 101. Imagine my surprise when I realized my professor resented my presence in the classroom as much as my fellow students found it a gigantic waste of time for them.
As a secretary, I spent my days correcting grammar, spelling and syntax. I’d been doing it for over ten years quite successfully. Which is why,
I was more than puzzled when I couldn’t seem to
do anything right in that class. I kept getting
“unsatisfactory work” on my papers, and the
professor gave me a C- on my mid-term. I knew
I had to address the situation. Just putting my
head down and all my hard work was not getting
me any closer to a passing grade.
He’d been in the English department a long,
long time. His threadbare tweed jacket looked
as aged as the professor himself’ it seemed to
symbolize of his disregard for fashion and style.
He had a slight build (my 5 ft. 2 in. frame could
stand toe to toe with him). He wore wire-rimmed
glasses which he took off and wiped with
deliberate strokes as he delivered his measured
criticisms. That’s probably why I waited until the
last possible moment to talk to him about how
I was doing in his class.
“Mr. Snyder?” I said almost in a whisper. I took
off the afternoon so that I could approach him
at office hours and discuss how to succeed in
Comp. 101 and now felt as intimidated as I did
the first day of night class. (continued on page 10)
“Yes?” he looked up puzzled as to why this 30-something housewife was appearing at his door when he had so many deserving college students who were more appropriate recipients of his wisdom.
“I’m in your Continuing Ed Comp 101 on Thursdays,” I stated hesitantly, “and I wanted to talk about what I need to do to pass this class.” I took a step into the cluttered cubicle.
“Nothing,” he said without missing a beat. “You clearly don’t belong in this class and if you drop out now, no one will have to know about your failure.”
“What?” I head myself shout as I felt my face turning red. “I’m qualified to be in this class. It’s a Freshman class and a pre-requisite for the School of Journalism.”
When I said Journalism, he practically flew out of his chair and blue books tumbled to the floor as he approached me sitting in the wooden chair next to the desk.
“I teach students who are destined to make a difference with their writing,” he hissed as if I was offending him by being in class.
“I intend to make a difference with my writing,” I declared passionately and with as much confidence as I could gather.
“I don’t see that happening,” he said glaring at me. “I don’t intend to pass you for this class. I view you as a bored housewife who is taking up space in my night class where a real college freshman should be sitting.”
“I see,” I said with all the composure I could muster while feeling the tears coming. I willed myself not to cry.
“Then sign my Drop Slip,” I demanded and shoved the form I’d been clutching in my hand. I waited for him to dash his scrawl on the Teacher Approval line.
I began my career as a full-time college student that day. I didn’t let Mr. Snyder stop me. His attitude fueled my determination to succeed. He wasn’t the first one who cast doubt on my dream of being a writer. I know he won’t be the last one who casts doubt on my writing. To tell the truth, there are times that I question my ability to write. Thankfully, those sessions a few and fewer. I keep coming back to the page. As you yourself will attest to because you are reading these words right now!
I showed up for myself and kept the momentum going for my success by volunteering for writing situations wherever I could at my church and in my community until I got my degree from the School of Journalism. By the time I graduated, I had confidence in my skills to land a job as an Editorial Assistant for a monthly shopper where I got to write feature articles and had a regular column.
Now, let’s turn our attention to you.
What’s your dream?
Are you living your dream?
What obstacle do you need to overcome to live your dream?
How can you keep your momentum going while you cope with life in the moment?
I invite you to choose a coping strategy that keeps you on the path to achieve your dreams. Such as writing in a journal. Spend fßive to fifteen minutes every day sitting in a comfortable spot with a notebook and a fast-writing pen having a conversation on paper with yourself. Give yourself the gift of showing up on the page for 21 to 30 days. That’s how long psychologists tell us it takes to learn a new a new behavior before it becomes a habit. I’ve kept a journal since I was an 11-year-old. Sometimes silly, sometimes solemn, and always enlightening for the spirit when I’d finished with my writing practice.
Unleash Your Momentum Story
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