What Was My Hurry?

[The first in a series of stories on regrets]

By Jane S. Gabin

      Regrets. I’ve had a few.

      One would be rushing to complete my education. For some reason, I was raised to believe that it was better to graduate in three years rather than in four. So, at the age of 27, I found myself with a Ph.D. (in English) but little experience.

      My culture also said, if you are not married, then nothing else matters. So, I stayed in school forever, it seemed, waiting for something or someone miraculous to occur.

      I remember the day I was standing at the kitchen window contemplating my future. And I wept. I didn’t know exactly what I wanted, but I knew what I didn’t want. I was on track to become a secondary-school English teacher; somewhere along the way I was expected to “meet someone” and marry, then have children.

      But I saw myself pushing a baby carriage on the streets of Flushing, NY. And that was my vision of hell.

      That was the day I decided to sabotage my plans (such as they were). I minored in education but decided to skip the required “student teaching” so I would not be certified. The people I went to for advice provided what I didn’t want to hear: “Teaching would be a great profession for you! It’s something you can always fall back on.”

      I had never heard this term. Fall back on? “Yes, after your children are grown, you can always go back and teach.”

      I wanted to be told something about inspiring young people, or sharing stories I enjoyed or some other noble endeavor.

      Why did I even major in English? Because it was my best subject in high school. I didn’t explore the wealth of courses I could have taken. No economics, no sociology, no psychology, no literature in languages other than English, no history (other than the two semesters of required “Contemporary Civilization”) or political science.

      Yes, I filled my days with a ton of music courses, and learned from top professors how to appreciate the choral music of Beethoven and how to compose—but I always kept my eye on how difficult the work was. I was hesitant to take any course in which I might get a grade lower than an A.

      And then after I had my degree (in three years!), what to do? I could go to graduate school. I opted for a one-year M.A. program, which I thoroughly enjoyed. A friend was getting a master’s in history. She told me about one of her professors, who already had a Ph.D. in chemistry and had worked for a couple of years as a chemist, then realized he had always had a passion for history and went back to get a doctorate in that, and wound up teaching about war and the paths that lead to it.

      I thought about the precious time he had wasted in pursuing another field. But I was doing a similar thing.

      Anyway, I stayed in grad school despite being told that there were “no jobs” in my field, and indeed there were few. I remember a married couple in my cohort who were invited to “share” a teaching position and they accepted as it was the only job possibility for both of them.

      A year after I received my doctorate, I landed a post—teaching high school in Chapel Hill, NC. It was much harder than I realized, and the talented people who do this work are far underpaid and under-appreciated.

      I have done a lot of things in my life, and have had many adventures. But one major thing I regret: what was my hurry?

      I still have not studied history, or sociology, or comparative governments. I have tried to learn on my own, by taking continuing education courses and reading compulsively. But this year I will turn 75, and I am running out of time to make up for what I didn’t study.

Jane S. Gabin runs her own college counseling service and is the author of a number of books, including a novel, The Paris Photo. She also is a substitute teacher in Chapel Hill, NC.