By Sonja Herbert
Only those who will risk going too far can possibly find out how far one can go.
~T.S. Eliot
I sit in the high school auditorium and watch my youngest, Meagan, receive her diploma. The blue and yellow cords over her red gown testify to the awards she won and the excellent work she did in school. I think of her bright smile just a few days ago, when she received her scholarship award from the university of her choice.
Her older brother holds a degree in physics and computers, one sister is an engineer, and two other sisters are planning to attend evening classes at colleges near them. And to think all of this came about because of one simple, even selfish, New Year's resolution I had made many years ago!
That New Year's Eve, I returned to the living room from tucking the first two of my children into bed.
"I've decided on my New Year's resolution," my husband said, looking up from watching the New Year's celebration on TV. "I'm going to save for my pilot lessons. If I don't start now, I'll never achieve my dream of flying a plane some day."
"Good for you," I answered. "But what about me? I'm stuck with the kids all day. It's not that I don't enjoy being a mother, but sometimes I wish I could do something for myself, too."
"Why don't you?" Gary suggested. "I'm sure you can think of something to do away from home." His attention returned to the show.
I sat down next to him, my eyes on the TV, and my thoughts about three thousand miles away. I could take an English class at the nearby college. That way, I'd get out of the house and learn something useful. And maybe I could improve my accent, so people would understand me better. After all, I'd come to the United States with my American husband only four years ago.
I grew up in post WWII Germany. At fourteen, after eight years of school, my mother sent me to work in a factory to support her and my five siblings. But even then I wanted more. I joined an American Christian church, and with the encouragement of my new friends, attended evening classes to learn English.
And now here I was, cut off from my family, mostly enjoying being a mother. But sometimes I wanted more. After all, I rationalized, if I take a class again, it wouldn't just benefit me; my children would have an advantage, too.
"You're right," I said. "I'll see if the college will allow me to take an English class. Just one class won't keep me away from the kids too long."
"Give it a try," my husband said. "I'm sure you'll do well."
But in my heart, I wondered. Taking a college class would be different from night classes learning English. I didn't know if I had the stuff to succeed in a university setting.
By the time classes started again, I realized I was expecting baby number three, so, half relieved and half disappointed, I postponed my resolution.
One day in March, after I'd put the kids down and finished cleaning up the supper dishes, my husband called to me from the living room, "I found a teacher."
Guilt made me almost drop the glass in my hand. "What teacher?" I yelled back.
"A pilot, licensed to teach flying."
"Oh." He wasn't talking about me, after all. Not everybody sticks to their New Year's resolution, I thought as I put away the last glass and then plopped onto the sofa next to him.
"What about your resolution?" he challenged me. "Have you signed up yet at the college?"
I shook my head. "I'm pregnant, you know."
"That shouldn't keep you from going back to school. If you sign up now, you could take the spring semester and be done in plenty of time before the baby comes."
I realized Gary was right. The worst that could happen would be that I'd drop the class again. I thought of the never-ending tasks at home, cooking three meals every day, a job I didn't really enjoy, chasing after Marja, the two year old, until I was exhausted, helping Dennis with homework, cleaning floors and washing dishes, wiping noses and changing diapers, and the prospect of soon having one more little life dependent on me. I knew I needed to do something for myself.
The next day, after dropping Dennis off at kindergarten, I took little Marja and we went to see the registrar at the college. I asked to be admitted to English 101 and told him I had the money ready. He made me fill out some papers. When he read them, he shook his head at my lack of a high school certificate.
"Okay," he finally said. "Try English 101. If you do well, you can keep taking classes."
I smiled as I returned to my car with a lighter heart.
A friend down the road babysat Marja three times a week while I attended class. I loved discovering the different styles of writing essays and trying my hand at them. At home, when I was busy with some routine task, in my head I went over what I had learned that day, and in the evenings, instead of watching TV with Gary, I sat at the table doing my homework.
I walked away from that first class with an A+.
After Daniel was born, I took English 102 and 103, and then put my education on hold while my fourth child Marit, came along. Two years later, even though I was expecting again, I knew I had to return to school. This time I took three classes at a time and paid a babysitter with the money I made typing term papers for other students. Our home wasn't as clean as it used to be and the older children helped cook, but I was happier, and my kids were proud of their mom, who also went to school, just like they did.
Two years later the sixth child was on the way, but by that time my marriage had become rocky, and my need to have an education was strong. I finished finals for my second-to-last semester the day before Meagan was born, and I took her with me to classes as I finished my AA in English and Foreign Languages.
Half a year later, I separated from Gary and moved with my six children to Cedar City, where I attended the university full-time. I divorced my husband a year before I earned my BA in German, English, and Spanish, and a teaching certificate.
I taught high school for three years, and then I returned to the university for a Masters in Language Acquisition. Again, my children and I went to school together. I remember getting special permission from a professor during summer semester to bring little Meagan along with me to a class.
Now, as I sit in the auditorium, watching Meagan get ready for the university, I realize the impact of the New Year's resolution I made so long ago. Because I followed through on that resolution, education has changed not just my life, but the futures of all my children.
Only those who will risk going too far can possibly find out how far one can go.
~T.S. Eliot
I sit in the high school auditorium and watch my youngest, Meagan, receive her diploma. The blue and yellow cords over her red gown testify to the awards she won and the excellent work she did in school. I think of her bright smile just a few days ago, when she received her scholarship award from the university of her choice.
Her older brother holds a degree in physics and computers, one sister is an engineer, and two other sisters are planning to attend evening classes at colleges near them. And to think all of this came about because of one simple, even selfish, New Year's resolution I had made many years ago!
That New Year's Eve, I returned to the living room from tucking the first two of my children into bed.
"I've decided on my New Year's resolution," my husband said, looking up from watching the New Year's celebration on TV. "I'm going to save for my pilot lessons. If I don't start now, I'll never achieve my dream of flying a plane some day."
"Good for you," I answered. "But what about me? I'm stuck with the kids all day. It's not that I don't enjoy being a mother, but sometimes I wish I could do something for myself, too."
"Why don't you?" Gary suggested. "I'm sure you can think of something to do away from home." His attention returned to the show.
I sat down next to him, my eyes on the TV, and my thoughts about three thousand miles away. I could take an English class at the nearby college. That way, I'd get out of the house and learn something useful. And maybe I could improve my accent, so people would understand me better. After all, I'd come to the United States with my American husband only four years ago.
I grew up in post WWII Germany. At fourteen, after eight years of school, my mother sent me to work in a factory to support her and my five siblings. But even then I wanted more. I joined an American Christian church, and with the encouragement of my new friends, attended evening classes to learn English.
And now here I was, cut off from my family, mostly enjoying being a mother. But sometimes I wanted more. After all, I rationalized, if I take a class again, it wouldn't just benefit me; my children would have an advantage, too.
"You're right," I said. "I'll see if the college will allow me to take an English class. Just one class won't keep me away from the kids too long."
"Give it a try," my husband said. "I'm sure you'll do well."
But in my heart, I wondered. Taking a college class would be different from night classes learning English. I didn't know if I had the stuff to succeed in a university setting.
By the time classes started again, I realized I was expecting baby number three, so, half relieved and half disappointed, I postponed my resolution.
One day in March, after I'd put the kids down and finished cleaning up the supper dishes, my husband called to me from the living room, "I found a teacher."
Guilt made me almost drop the glass in my hand. "What teacher?" I yelled back.
"A pilot, licensed to teach flying."
"Oh." He wasn't talking about me, after all. Not everybody sticks to their New Year's resolution, I thought as I put away the last glass and then plopped onto the sofa next to him.
"What about your resolution?" he challenged me. "Have you signed up yet at the college?"
I shook my head. "I'm pregnant, you know."
"That shouldn't keep you from going back to school. If you sign up now, you could take the spring semester and be done in plenty of time before the baby comes."
I realized Gary was right. The worst that could happen would be that I'd drop the class again. I thought of the never-ending tasks at home, cooking three meals every day, a job I didn't really enjoy, chasing after Marja, the two year old, until I was exhausted, helping Dennis with homework, cleaning floors and washing dishes, wiping noses and changing diapers, and the prospect of soon having one more little life dependent on me. I knew I needed to do something for myself.
The next day, after dropping Dennis off at kindergarten, I took little Marja and we went to see the registrar at the college. I asked to be admitted to English 101 and told him I had the money ready. He made me fill out some papers. When he read them, he shook his head at my lack of a high school certificate.
"Okay," he finally said. "Try English 101. If you do well, you can keep taking classes."
I smiled as I returned to my car with a lighter heart.
A friend down the road babysat Marja three times a week while I attended class. I loved discovering the different styles of writing essays and trying my hand at them. At home, when I was busy with some routine task, in my head I went over what I had learned that day, and in the evenings, instead of watching TV with Gary, I sat at the table doing my homework.
I walked away from that first class with an A+.
After Daniel was born, I took English 102 and 103, and then put my education on hold while my fourth child Marit, came along. Two years later, even though I was expecting again, I knew I had to return to school. This time I took three classes at a time and paid a babysitter with the money I made typing term papers for other students. Our home wasn't as clean as it used to be and the older children helped cook, but I was happier, and my kids were proud of their mom, who also went to school, just like they did.
Two years later the sixth child was on the way, but by that time my marriage had become rocky, and my need to have an education was strong. I finished finals for my second-to-last semester the day before Meagan was born, and I took her with me to classes as I finished my AA in English and Foreign Languages.
Half a year later, I separated from Gary and moved with my six children to Cedar City, where I attended the university full-time. I divorced my husband a year before I earned my BA in German, English, and Spanish, and a teaching certificate.
I taught high school for three years, and then I returned to the university for a Masters in Language Acquisition. Again, my children and I went to school together. I remember getting special permission from a professor during summer semester to bring little Meagan along with me to a class.
Now, as I sit in the auditorium, watching Meagan get ready for the university, I realize the impact of the New Year's resolution I made so long ago. Because I followed through on that resolution, education has changed not just my life, but the futures of all my children.
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