“I didn't go to college and I turned out fine!” said a short, grizzled co-worker I once knew. She betrayed her envy easily with that comment. I had gone to college knew it's worth and was trying to explain that to her before a particular nerve in her was rubbed the wrong way. I didn't feel like pursuing our argument as it was going to annoy me eventually. There are molehills and there are mountains and fighting over molehills I thought a waste of time. I let her plant her flag of victory on it and she stoked her pride for a few. “Fine...you win.” It costs me nothing to do that and avoid twenty minutes of misery over basically nothing. You know what I'm speaking of. It's called...”It's Not Worth It.”
Though her raising the issue gave me a thought in one way. Not one of the people I knew was in the same occupation they chose when they were in college. Each one, either through economic changes or individual decisions, had gotten out of their chosen career and moved onto onto some pretty different occupations.
**
Frank B I knew in high school. He was affable enough, though a bit too eager to show you how smart he was at times. That wasn't deniable, he was intelligent. It's when someone rubs your face in it for his own personal joy is what's annoying. “OK, you win too” But that didn't happen often enough for you to dislike him.
As teens, you mercilessly judge each other's appearance via gossip and behind their backs. It's par for the course and still happens to this day. Frank, unfortunately for him via dumb genetic luck, was born with a sixth finger on his left hand and it wasn't a workable one either. It sort of hung there, useless. His face was sort of...lizard like. In that his eyes seemed to have that perpetual “I'm high as shit” squinty-slit look. It didn't help that his glasses magnified that either and if you met him, you'd try not to stare too much out of etiquette. I never understood it but there are people who have “flat” hair. You could wash it with an industrial de-greaser, blow dry it and still it wouldn't poof up. Poor Frank had that hair.
On the nicer side, he was socially apt. He could move through the various cliques in school and was open hearted without any motive for duplicity, vs many of the kids we all have known in high school. In short, he was trustworthy and had little desire for back stabbing that teens do to move up the ladder. A kind heart.
In the last few months before graduation, those of us who applied were accepted to various colleges and I was off to RIC. Others, with better scores and much more money than my family had were off to Harvard, Yale or wherever their Dad's attended for easy, legacy approved short-tracked acceptance.
One day in class, Frank mentions to me he got into MIT.
I was astounded. I knew MIT had an acceptance rate of less than 10%, perhaps lower. He had told me his SATs and other test scores, plus his high school record was sharp enough to get him in. I sat there, still amazed by this as I had never known anyone in my life that had gone, or was going to MIT.
“You smart, brainy little fuck” I thought to myself.
I think all teachers, administrative types and schools do the following. They always praise that particular year's graduating class as “The best class we've ever seen!” Why do I think that? Because I've attended other graduations and you hear it mentioned each time.
One time in a stairwell at school I came upon Frank, the assistant principal and a biology teacher who were all gushing over the Frank's successful admission to MIT. I also noticed Frank's face as it beamed with the praise he was getting. Ah, why not beam? MIT said they wanted him. He had demonstrable talents and did the work to attain this. I on the other hand was happily satisfied with my A- or B+ grades. I could have done much better but I never saw the payoff of knocking myself out each time for “school,” so most times, I did “well enough” but never had that motivation to do it all the God Damn time.
“Does not fully apply himself though is easily capable” was written on my report cards over the years. Yeah, want to know why? I never saw the payoff worth the effort. I did those profit/loss statements in my head and found that the loss was a bit too much. Struggling to “win” all the time in the Pawtucket school system didn't seem like much fun to me. Add to that I wasn't getting much praise for wins anyway. The simple behavioral reward system didn't pay out much in my mind.
I digress.
So, we all graduate and disperse into the Four Winds. I had not met many of my high school crowd after that.
Two years later, at my favorite Quickie Mart, I was gassing up my car and thought I had recognized the person on the other side of the island.
“Frank? “ I said.
He acknowledged me but was very cool to me as well. In that he was not very forthcoming about what he was up to in life. You do that to me and I go into detective mode, I will get it out of you somehow.
After a few pointed questions he confesses. He was booted out of MIT for academic failure. It wasn't due to partying nor personal problems, he just couldn't hack it. MIT throws a world wide net for applicants and the Best of the Best come. So, instead of competing and winning in a small high school, he was now competing with the world's smartest kids. The competition is ruthless there as the kids pit everything on graduating in the Top 10. Against that, he didn't last long apparently. He told me he was working at a BlockBuster video store now with no idea on what to do next. It's a heavy blow to take really, being washed out of the Best Technical School on the Planet when you were promised by others you were a Golden Boy.
**
I haven't seen him since but have Googled him and I was astonished what profession he took up.
He's a Unitarian Universalist minister in Reno, Nevada. Wow, how the hell did that happen? I have no idea really. How does a MIT wash out with an obvious brain end up in religion? There's a deeper story there that I am not privy too. But still, it's a marked change. People's lives sure can take some very different paths and their decisions make perfect sense to them at the time.
Did my life end up where I envisioned it when I was eight teen? Not by a long shot. My idea was that I'd be a bio major, end up in the applied science business world somewhere, married with 2.4 kids. However, I had no idea at eight-teen of the changes that were to come that effected the path I'd take. Life course corrections, outside pressures and plain ol' “I don't like this anymore and I'm changing” happens. Oh, add to that my own damn personality, how I view the world and how that effected my decisions, for better or worse. Did I and others “just wing it?” No, it's more of playing it by ear as you can never tell what the future brings.
As we were asked in kindergarten, “What do you want to be when you grow up?” Kids answered, “A fireman! A policeman! A nurse! An astronaut! A mommy!”
Too bad there isn't a Hogwarts “Future Occupation/Life Sorting Hat” that tells you what you will be.
“Arrrghh...hmmm...Tommy...you're gonna be an “environmental” supervisor at a landfill!”
“Little Nicole, you'll be a principal in the Chicago school system, but your married life and youngest child will be joke!”
“And who do we have here...Bobby! Well, you'll be in the Job of the Month club and an aspiring alcoholic!”
Had they placed the Sorting Hat on me...”Hmmm...HA! You sure ain't gonna be no biochemist! You're too dumb with math and everyone close in your life is gonna suck the time right out of you! You're gonna be a in home nurse for over a decade!”
And had they put that hat on Frank in May of 1982...I'm sure he'd be astonished at what it had to tell him as well.
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