The importance of feeling wanted.
When I was a younger man and aspiring to find an institution where I could pursue an higher education, my father gave me some potent advice, which - for reasons even Emmerson could not fathom - has stuck in my mind and guided my heart (and body my association) since. He told me, "Christopher, you should go where you are wanted because where you are wanted, there you are cared for." He told me this as an appeal to choose Ohio University over Oberlin College.
Now, Oberlin and its college called to my heart. I dreamed of studying music at the Conservatory, of being a young and learning progressive. But Oberlin, it seems, didn't want me. At least not much. I was denied admittance to the Conservatory and received a meek $8,000 in financial aid, which left a total balance of $24,000 for the first year and possibly the full amount afterwards. Ohio University, on the other hand, offered me a four-year full tuition schollarship, room and board included as well as book money. They gauranteed me a possition in a leadership development program with a group of nine other students. And, during my initial visit to the college, I was introduced to the Dean of the College of Fine Arts as well as the Associate Director of the School of Music. To boot, the music faculty to whom I auditioned told me that I was a rough stone with promise to become a diamond, and they could clean and polish me if I attened the school.
Despite that luscious offer, I still dreamed of attending Oberlin to study physics and perhaps re-audition for the Conservatory in my second year. But, my father delivered his advice and it pierced to the bone. I chose OU, and all my years there I felt wanted and nurtured by the administration, faculty, staff, student body and the Athens community.
.........
OK. First of all, out of desperate boredom, I went to the Rincon Public Library and checked out a book of essays by Emmerson from 1870. Hence, the writing style. Second, I can't tell you how important it is to me to feel wanted. Really.
On Christmas day, Grandpa called me downstairs to talk to his cousin on the phone. Grandpa is vexed that I am leaving very soon for the states. His cousin (my cousin, too) told me to get out and check the night life. He told me the bars to go to, he told me that the cute surfer girls ("americanas") would be there, and he told me it's like non-stop party. "When one bar closes, the whole crowd walks down the street to the next bar."
While I'm on the phone, who pulls up but Uncle Kiki (grandpa's bro) and Aunt Alvira (his wife). Both taught at the University of Puerto Rico. Both were so very warm towards me. Alvira spoke Spanish to me with such a slow, deliberate and kind nature that I couldn't help but understand every word she spoke to me about cooking arroz y habichuelas (rice and beans).
Kiki said, "I think you're leaving too soon. You just got here. Stay six months and learn the language. A person who speaks English and Spanish can get a job anywhere in the world. And, work will come. Give it time!"
Later, my father told me, "Come home son, and you'll have a place to stay and a car to use. Look for a job in Cleveland. If you find nothing by February, then you can go to the farm in Athens."
And just minutes ago, Rose Johnson and I were on the phone. She said, "I'm going to San Francisco. You can ride along. I'm stoked to travel with you."
I'll be leaving Puerto Rico soon.
Now, Oberlin and its college called to my heart. I dreamed of studying music at the Conservatory, of being a young and learning progressive. But Oberlin, it seems, didn't want me. At least not much. I was denied admittance to the Conservatory and received a meek $8,000 in financial aid, which left a total balance of $24,000 for the first year and possibly the full amount afterwards. Ohio University, on the other hand, offered me a four-year full tuition schollarship, room and board included as well as book money. They gauranteed me a possition in a leadership development program with a group of nine other students. And, during my initial visit to the college, I was introduced to the Dean of the College of Fine Arts as well as the Associate Director of the School of Music. To boot, the music faculty to whom I auditioned told me that I was a rough stone with promise to become a diamond, and they could clean and polish me if I attened the school.
Despite that luscious offer, I still dreamed of attending Oberlin to study physics and perhaps re-audition for the Conservatory in my second year. But, my father delivered his advice and it pierced to the bone. I chose OU, and all my years there I felt wanted and nurtured by the administration, faculty, staff, student body and the Athens community.
.........
OK. First of all, out of desperate boredom, I went to the Rincon Public Library and checked out a book of essays by Emmerson from 1870. Hence, the writing style. Second, I can't tell you how important it is to me to feel wanted. Really.
On Christmas day, Grandpa called me downstairs to talk to his cousin on the phone. Grandpa is vexed that I am leaving very soon for the states. His cousin (my cousin, too) told me to get out and check the night life. He told me the bars to go to, he told me that the cute surfer girls ("americanas") would be there, and he told me it's like non-stop party. "When one bar closes, the whole crowd walks down the street to the next bar."
While I'm on the phone, who pulls up but Uncle Kiki (grandpa's bro) and Aunt Alvira (his wife). Both taught at the University of Puerto Rico. Both were so very warm towards me. Alvira spoke Spanish to me with such a slow, deliberate and kind nature that I couldn't help but understand every word she spoke to me about cooking arroz y habichuelas (rice and beans).
Kiki said, "I think you're leaving too soon. You just got here. Stay six months and learn the language. A person who speaks English and Spanish can get a job anywhere in the world. And, work will come. Give it time!"
Later, my father told me, "Come home son, and you'll have a place to stay and a car to use. Look for a job in Cleveland. If you find nothing by February, then you can go to the farm in Athens."
And just minutes ago, Rose Johnson and I were on the phone. She said, "I'm going to San Francisco. You can ride along. I'm stoked to travel with you."
I'll be leaving Puerto Rico soon.
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