I've always known that I wanted to help others as my profession. As a young adolescent, that help was directed toward animals. As I grew older, I realized that as much as I adore animals, a deeper passion thirsted for helping children. So, I went to college to become an elementary teacher. Other classmates and I would fantasize about our ideal classrooms once we finished college. This proved to be a strong motivational tactic to boost morale and willingness to continue on in the grueling program which threatened to gobble up our spirits and optimism in one contented gulp. Each and every time this conversation arose, my answer was immediate and the same: I want to teach in a hut in Africa. Every time I verbalized this aloud, despite the looks of uncertainty in my sanity that I received back from my peers, my heart would beat faster. In a hut in Africa....yes, I WILL teach there someday.
As time went on and I experienced more classrooms through my practicums, something terrifying began to emerge. I was losing my drive, my excitement, my want to teach. The closest reasoning I could pin down was the overwhelming frustrations I felt about the lack of power teachers had. They could plan the perfect lessons and use the perfect psychological reinforcement, but at the end of the day the children were not going to perform at their best if they did not have a safe home to study in that night. It appeared to me that teachers' hands are so tied from helping the children at a basic level, and this tore at my heart. Children who only ate or received any attention while at school were either expected to perform just as focused and prepared as the better off students, or they were tossed to the wayside and given up on. I was told by a teacher that "there's only so much we can do", and this 'so much' was beyond dissatisfying. I was smacked in the face with the realization that maybe I was studying the wrong major. I needed to work toward a career in helping children gain their most basic and fundamental needs first, and lesson plan on the solar system second.
At the beginning of my fifth year of college, personal hardships began to consume me. I was finally forced me to give in and withdraw from school, which meant losing my ultimate identity as the academic. No longer with a life plan or goal of any sort, I was put into limbo. This would not do. Desperate to come up with an alternative game plan for my life, I realized I was in the closest to perfect life placement to fulfill my dream of Third World volunteering. I knew I couldn't take off on this quest alone, nor did I want to. Something surely so amazing would be lightyears better if shared with a friend. Now to find a travel partner...
When discussing ideas of traveling within the next several months with a friend, Katy, whom I was still starting to know, asked if she could come along. It felt so right there wasn't any room left for doubt, and my soul danced as I agreed. The next seven months flew by as I picked up another job, filling 90% of my time working at either one or the other. As I continually budgeted and re-budgeted, I quickly concluded that I had to switch into ultra-penny pincher mode. This is where I became so grateful that I've had to live so financially frugal so many times in my life - budgeting and bargain hunting was essentially first nature. It helped to rename my jobs "fundraisers", as that was a hell of a lot more motivating than "work".
It was happening. My highest dream was in the making. Backed by wonder and fear, I was exhilarated.
As many of you know, I am a sucker for a good quote. Words continually blow my mind with their magnitude. This one captures my dream for this upcoming adventure absolutely perfectly:
"There came a time when the risk to remain tight in the bud became more painful that the risk it took to blossom" -Anais Nin
Bingo.
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