What is it in us that begs to be known and understood? As a child of God, I know that He loves me. I know God finds value in my life even when I don't. I know He has mercy for my lack of self-discipline and inconsistency. And I know that somewhere I have a modicum of talent in something. I haven't discovered what it is though I can do a hundred things with beginners or intermediate students' skills.
My life has been spent trying this and that - both in the work arena and in my personal life. Although I drifted into information technology, I started with a high school diploma, a sixth-month-old baby and a 2-1/2-year-old, a divorce, and the need to get a job fast. I took two classes; typing and shorthand (1976 - what else was there for women to do that didn't "go to college"). Later after I was programming, I took Programming 101. Now when filling out any form I can honestly claim I have "some college". Splitting hairs is my forte.
I changed jobs at the same company five times always doing a little better, though truth be told, I could have been justifiably fired from any one of them. I hadn't been diagnosed with ADHD yet but all the signs were there. The mental health community just wasn't aware of how many women dealt with traits and repercussions of a condition that still is not well understood. I digress... But I worked for a good company and with good people, almost all of whom had minimally a bachelor's degree in one of the physical sciences. The remaining had MS degrees and PhDs. There was a small contingent of skilled craftsman belonging to the trades. Working with well-educated people was a blessing. I won't forget that being around them gave me a passion for wanting to understand and perpetually ask "Why?", "How?".
A few days ago, as I rearranged my photo albums on Facebook, I decided I needed one album for myself - of everything I've tried. None of them required an education though if I had to live my life over again, I would have studied "Home Economics" or "Fine Arts", I think. (I really wanted to be a Radio City Rockette but tearing cartilage in my right knee put an end to that. For the decision to follow Fine Arts or Home Economics, I have my favorite teachers to thank - the only teachers whose names I can remember; "Mrs. Golden" art teacher - who taught me about colors near and distant and sketching mobility of the human form, "Miss Bush", "Mrs. Beaman", "Mrs. Takesian" home economics teachers - taught me to recognize cotton from wool from rayon and to put in a zipper, do a French seam, and not to stitch over straight pins with my sewing machine - and God bless her, Mrs. Libby Bruce - foods class. Mrs. Bruce taught me to properly measure flour. (We don't plow a cup into a container of flour. We use a large spoon to scoop large spoonfuls of flour and place them in the dry measure cup until it is over the top. Take a knife, sharp edge up, tap the top of the cup 2-3 times with the dull edge of the knife and then slide the knife from the handle to the front edge of the cup pushing the excess flour back into the container.) She also taught me to make broccoli and cheese sauce and forever released me from hating all vegetables. (I still can't tolerate beets but that not her fault.) While I may not have made a living with the skills I learned from those great teachers, every day the skills they taught me made it possible for me to function in life with less stress and enjoy retirement with a vengeance.
My photo album, "CraftsCraftsCrafts & HobbiesHobbiesHobbies", no doubt will be the largest album of its kind on Facebook. When I am done putting in a photo of craft, hobby, and activity I've tried at least once, Zuckerberg will be adding more disk space.
The term "jack of all trades and master of none" was a term my former father-in-law used to say to my husband. It can be a negative descriptor or a positive one. Since I'm ADHD and have a million and one projects that haven't been finished, I choose to see it as a positive thing. You can ask me almost anything in the general area of fiber/textiles, art, music, and a hundred other things - and I have something to say at least once. I'm never lost for conversation... just ask my therapist.
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