Higher Education

I had an interesting discussion with a new acquaintance from England the other day, and the conversation turned to children. She had two - a boy age 19, and a girl, age 17. "Is your son away at school?" I asked, as most 19-year old's are these days.

"No," she replied in her lovely British accent. "He's a musician and composer, and he's trying to make a go of it. He had no interest in college - he just wanted to get out and do what he loved doing.   But he'll probably have to go back to England because he's much more likely to have success there than he would do over here."

I relayed my own son's similar feelings about college, and how we had felt lucky to find a  technical college dedicated to the field of study he was most interested in.

"It's all so different over here," she continued. "In England, it's not expected that everyone will go off to University. It's rather normal to get a proper job after you finish high school. Here, the kids seem pressured to go to college and all their friends are going so they want to go as well, even if they really don't know what they want to study."

I've had similar feelings about the push toward higher education ever since my son decided not to pursue the ubiquitous four-year degree.  Those feelings have intensified in the past 10 years as I've seen several young people feel pressured to attend college, and then feel like a failure when they (a) find out they can't make the grade or the payments; or (b) decide they'd rather pursue some other lifestyle path.

I was reminded of this tonight during rehearsal for the community theater group I'm working with.  In the cast of the show we're putting up, there are five young people between the ages of 22 and 30.  Each of them has a four year degree from a top state university.  Each of them was a better than average student in high school and in college.

None of them has a job.

Well, they have jobs, but they're working in restaurants or retail clothing stores or driving trucks. A few of them are lucky enough to have part-time jobs in their fields (teaching, business, city planning) but nothing that will come close to paying the rent. They also have a student loan or some other college loans which they can't repay. So before they're even established in life, they're in big-time debt.

It made me feel even luckier that my son has been self-supporting since the age of 20, and was able to buy his first home at the age of 22. He's been employed full time in his field since he finished his course of study, a program that was dedicated solely to his area of interest and focused entirely on that discipline. He was one of the lucky ones.  He knew what he wanted to do, and he went after it. However, he had no assistance from anyone at his high school.  The attitude of the counselors was "if you're not interested in four year college, we're not interested in helping you."

I think we're failing a lot of young people with that attitude.  Not everyone needs to or is able pursue higher education in the form of a four year university. Students of all abilities should be encouraged to look for viable alternatives to the traditional university experience and there should be more focused educational avenues available for people who want to prepare for a specific career.  Counselors should help young people discover their strengths and interests and guide them toward the proper educational experience, whether that's a four year college, community college, technical school, or an apprenticeship.

Unfortunately many opportunities for trades and crafts persons have been "outsourced," which has not only diminished the possibility for finding employment in those fields, but also devalued the work monetarily and in terms of status. The professional careers are supposedly "where the money's at" these days, but there seem to be too many applicants for too few positions. It's part and parcel of the polarization of our society - the rich and the poor, the educated and the ignorant, the haves and have-nots. The middle ground seems to be disappearing every day, and we all seem to be scrambling toward the high or low ends of society's see-saw.

In the end, how valuable is a higher education if you can neither pay for it nor use it?

Surprised by Beauty

This morning I stumbled out of bed after another restless night. I first awoke at 4:00 a.m., tossed and turned for a bit, contemplated getting up but decided to stay put a while longer.  Around 6:00 I dozed off, only to be woken again by the classical music station's version of reveille - a Sousa march which they play each morning at 7:00 a.m. Very funny.

So the aforementioned stumbling began. My thoughtful husband had generously prepared the coffee, so I poured a cup and shuffled into the living room, where I was stopped dead in my tracks by the views outside my front window.

Despite the old adage about "red sky at morning...(sailors take warning)" I was mesmerized and startled out of my doldrums.

Beauty can surprise us when we least expect it. When it does, revel in it and let it energize your heart and soul.

Sleepless in Detroit

Insomnia. It started two weeks ago when I was in Florida with my friend, and I blamed it on eating too much and exercising too little.

It continued when I came home, and I attributed it to generalized anxiety about some things which I won't go into right now but which passed uneventfully.

It didn't go away until last night, and I think I've discovered the remedy.

I'm usually a very good sleeper.  I follow a strict bedtime ritual, about which I'm quite obsessive compulsive.  Here's the prescription:

• One hour of engaging television programming (think Dancing With the Stars, Modern Family, Parenthood), enjoyed with one glass of perfectly chilled Chardonnay, followed by...
• A hot bath, after which...
• I climb directly into bed and tuck in with my book until I fall asleep.

This remedy has been successful for as long as I can remember.

But it hasn't been working for me lately. I've done everything according to plan, but I either can't fall asleep, or I fall asleep and then startle awake almost immediately, wide eyed and restless.  I've been tossing and turning, finally surrendering about 3:00 a.m. when I throw back the covers, get out of bed, and head off to my study to read.

Until last night.

I substituted for a friend in our church handbell choir.  I haven't played bells at church for over a year, but last night I rehearsed with both of our adult handbell groups, followed by Chancel Choir rehearsal.  So from 6:00 pm until 9:00 pm, I was making music with my friends.

Afterwards, I came home, watched some TV (Pan Am, which I have to say is very disappointing), took my bath, and slept like a baby.

Hmmm....

I've always had difficulty maintaining a balance between music and writing. Usually one or the other dominates my thoughts, time, and energy.  Since I quit working, I've been spending a lot of time alone, focusing my efforts on writing as well as some marketing activities for a new community theater group I'm working with.  There hasn't been much musical activity going on here (as evidenced by the layer of dust clearly visible on the piano bench). I've been spinning my mind in the same circles lately, so it was beneficial to send my focus in a different direction.

I think it's just as important to maintain healthy portions of the things that feed our passions as it is the things that feed our bodies. I just spent some time with a Mozart sonata to help me transition out of an afternoon fiddling with computer graphics and press releases.

Now I'm heading off to catch an episode of Blue Bloods on the TiVo.

Sweet dreams...

(wordpress is being extremely stubborn about the formatting on this post and will not do it the way I want it.  seriously annoying. )

A Word About Autumn

Autumn is a second spring, and every leaf a flower. ~Albert Camus

I treated myself to this package of beautiful postcards bearing this splendid crimson leaf, a true autumnal flower.

I've been writing on them with my lovely fountain pen, copying snippets of verse about this favorite season.

If you love autumn and would like a word or two about it to flutter into your mailbox someday soon, send me your address (to beccasbookstack (at) gmail (dot) com) and one will come winging its way to you.

Time Machine

Yesterday was my husband's birthday, so I took him on a little trip in a time machine.  After a long lunch (which included his favorite cocktail as a special treat) we spent the afternoon meandering around Greenfield Village.  The streets were nearly empty, and we walked at our leisure across the green, through the covered bridge, past the Suwanee River boathouse, and around the chapel where we were married over 35 years ago. Jim had a long talk with one of the glassblowers in the craft area, and I learned that my husband has always been fascinated with that art form - who knew? The streets were nearly empty so it was pleasant and even a bit surreal. The sky was alternately overcast and sunny, so we felt either a cool shiver down our spines or a warm glow on our face. Occasionally a Model T would rumble past us or the train engine would belch and snort as it went around the bend.

Sitting on the patio at the Taste of History cafe, sipping hot coffee and sharing a chocolate chip cookie, it felt as if we'd stepped back in time, away from the stresses of work (his) and the pile of paperwork on the piano (mine). We'd wandered into a place where life seemed simpler and easier, where you might work an eight hour day, share dinner around the table with your family, spend the evening reading, taking a walk, visiting with friends, listening to the radio.

You all know how I fantasize about the Mitford way of life, the kind of slow paced lifestyle epitomized in Jan Karon's series novels set in that small town nestled in the foothills of North Carolina.

I had a taste of it yesterday afternoon, and it felt wonderful.

So I made a vow to return as often as I can before the snow flies, to soak up the serenity of a more peaceful time gone by.

How about you? Do you have a favorite place to go back in time?