My Career Choices as a Child

Daily writing prompt
When you were five, what did you want to be when you grew up?

When I was five, I wanted to be a doctor. I think that’s because doctors seemed so different than anyone else I had encountered at that age. They had their own offices, they wore white coats, and they talked to little kids instead of over their heads.

When I was eight, I aspired to be a poet. My third-grade teacher taught an ambitious unit on poetry where we actually wrote in different forms (my diamante was less than desirable, but my limerick was pretty good). She had posted my Groundhog Day poem (free-form) on the door of the classroom. I told my mother I wanted to be a poet and she asked, “Do you like to eat? Poets don’t make enough money to eat.” That was the end of my vocational aspiration, because I did like to eat. I went back to wanting to be a doctor.

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When I was ten, I saw a lot of doctors for a stubborn malady. At that point, I had had enough of doctors, and that cured me of wanting to be one. My career aspirations were on hold until I hit high school. When I was sixteen, I wanted to be a dietitian because I had lost a significant amount of weight. I was what they would call nowadays an orthorexic, someone who followed a strict diet and lost more weight than advisable. I held that aspiration until my sophomore year of college, when I started gaining the weight back and feared the organic chemistry classes I would need to take. I changed to Foods in Business, a corporate foods career.

By the end of my sophomore year, I wanted to be a professor. I didn’t know what I wanted to be a professor of, but I had a friend whose father was a professor and I wanted a lifestyle that would keep me in academia. It took me till my first semester senior year to find the answer. I took a family economics class as an elective, and I fell in love with the class. We talked a lot about why women earned less than men, and I found the discussion intriguing. After class one day, I asked the professor if grad school was a possibility. She escorted me down the hall to the department office and introduced me to the department chair. Thus, I got into graduate school in Family and Consumption Economics pretty easily.

Once I got my PhD, my jobs have been only slight detours in my field. I teach a few psychology classes, due to my many hours in Psychology along the way. I teach human services classes, which in my case are akin to what I trained in. At one point, I wanted to be a winemaker when I retired, but I now think that would be too much physical labor. Now, I want to be a writer when I retire.

My University

Daily writing prompt
What colleges have you attended?

I have only attended one university for my education, and that is the University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign.

University of Illinois was an excellent school. I didn’t pick it because of reputation; I didn’t think that way as an undergraduate. I picked it because I visited Champaign-Urbana with my dad once and fell in love with the towns. Like in many other parts of my life, I fell into a good decision.

In academia, it is strongly discouraged to attend the same university for graduate school as for undergraduate. However, my undergrad was in a significantly different field than my graduate degree, so the intellectual stagnation of such a move wasn’t an issue. My undergrad degree was in Foods in Business, a food industry-focused major. My graduate degree was in Family and Consumption Economics, which is about people and their decisions about money. It involves everything from decisions people make about whether to move to take a job to things we can tell about a country by what they buy.

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I was recruited into graduate school. I was taking family economics as an elective and fell in love with it. Family economics is a class about financial decisions a family makes, from who has the say in purchasing decisions to family job migrations to child support. After class, I asked the professor if there were graduate degrees in the field, and she escorted me down the hall to the department office and introduced me to the chair.

In the 11 years I spent at University of Illinois, I became familiar with its spaces. I ran across campus to get to my classes, napped in the South Union (with many others), drank coffee at various places in campustown, and moved into my own office in Bevier Hall eventually.

I went back to Champaign-Urbana a few years back, and I hardly recognized the place. The campus town now features tall buildings which give the streets a claustrophobic feel. They are filled with high-end apartments for students, whereas the undergrads in my time lived much more modestly. I do not feel at home there anymore; I could not take a nap in the South Union anymore, as the lounges have disappeared. The cafeteria is now a food court. I know it’s a natural thing to be disappointed in the places you once dwelt because of changes, but I didn’t believe it until I stepped on campus again. It had been over twenty years, however; time flows on.

What I Wanted to Be When I Grew Up

Daily writing prompt
What alternative career paths have you considered or are interested in?

When I was a child, I wanted to be a poet. I remember announcing this to my mother, who said, “Do you like to eat? You’ll starve as a poet.” She didn’t know about academia, where someone could get a Ph.D. and teach in composition and creative writing while getting paid for writing poetry. It’s just as well I didn’t take that path, though; I might have taken well to that unit in poetry as a third-grader, but I’m not enthused with my poetry now.

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Then, in Junior High, I wanted to be a doctor. Then I had some medical issues, and I realized I didn’t like doctors. They were abrupt and rude. They didn’t explain things to me and I was the patient. I wouldn’t have made a bad doctor, because in college I loved my physiology and microbiology classes. Chemistry, not so much. I still love medical stuff and try to diagnose people on reruns of Emergency! (American TV show, circa 1972) all the time.

The common wisdom is that the average college student changes majors seven times before they graduate. I think this is a gross exaggeration, but I did change my major three times from dietetics to food and nutrition to foods in business. Still, that wasn’t my final destination.

I didn’t want to become a college professor until college, because I hadn’t been exposed to the job. I had a friend in college whose father was a college professor, and I liked the way he had been brought up. It was only a matter of figuring out what I would be a professor of. My senior year, I discovered family economics and my career path was clear.

I joke sometimes that I still don’t know what I want to do once I grow up, but I have been a college professor for over 30 years, so I guess that’s what I am now.

My Strange, Snowy, Cold Semester So Far

This has been the strangest first week of the semester, and the strangeness is extending into week 2.

A little background: I go on campus Mondays, Tuesdays, and Thursdays during Spring semester. Monday has office hours and meetings; Tuesdays and Thursdays are when I teach and hold office hours again. (Another class is online and yet another conducted over email and meetings as it is the internship class).

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The days I don’t go into work allow me to work on class plans, research, and internship site visits (which won’t happen for a few weeks). They allow me to do this, in addition, without dressing up for work (except for those internship visits.) I work, but I don’t teach. It’s a lot more relaxed.

As I mentioned last week, the university closed because of an energetic snowfall dumping 7 inches of snow over a 12-hour period. With students coming in from the countryside and plows unable to keep up with snow and wind, we canceled school for Tuesday. My first day of class was Thursday.

Four days at home followed this because Monday is Martin Luther King Day, and then I would be back to teach Tuesday. Except that my university is cancelling classes on Tuesday because of dangerous windchills, making my next day in to teach on Thursday again.

It feels strange having this much time outside of office, with the flexibility of work it creates. It’s equally strange not having face time with my students. I’m going to have to work on how to get the students caught up with class topics. But it’s not as strange as teaching under COVID, where I taught a semester online with no face time with the students.

So here’s to another couple days of working while playing classical music, drinking hot chocolate, and with bunny slippers on!

Taking Care of Myself

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I’m getting old.

Monday night I stayed up a couple hours late doing some prepping for my classes. I had to adapt my lecture slide shows to make them more pedagogically effective, and I had until Thursday to get the first few slide shows done. Being an overachiever, I instead completed all fifteen weeks’ worth on Monday. I did not take care of myself.

I got through Tuesday’s work completing the other class, falling asleep sitting up. Now I’m on Wednesday, the day before my classes start, and I’m totally wiped out despite a good night’s sleep on Tuesday night.

I feel like I did when I was younger and got only three hours of sleep a night, which was not uncommon given that I hung out with computer programmers. I used to walk around like this all the time, and I do not know how I got through college this way. Or life.

Today I’ll be taking care of myself. A nap on the couch, some leisurely writing, and a promise to myself that I will not be staying up past my bedtime again.

In-Between

I gaze out the window at the Toledo train station, watching the rain bead off the windows. The train has been in the station for a while — a half hour, a day, forever — I’m too tired to figure it out.

This train ride will carry me from the joy of  discovering home to the duty of another year teaching college. It will be my 21st year at Northwest.    One of my first students is sending her kid to college. I still feel like I’m in my thirties despite my arthritis, and all my memories jumble into a timeless mist.

I will return to an abrupt transition to beginning of the school year meetings. But for now, I’m on the train, in-between everything.