This is Chapter 12 in my history.
After the whole debacle with the professor, my college life change drastically. Instead of having stress from that situation, I had stress from teaching, working, staying alive, and I thrived on it. I was so busy that it really didn't matter that I felt socially isolated because I would not have had time to hang out with anyone anyways. But I was also starting to make life long friends at work and some of my friendships that we once strained were starting to heal.
I spent the last two terms of college insanely busy. I was living in Monmouth, student teaching in Corvallis, and working in Salem. My days were as follows...
6:30 AM - Get up, shower or do a treatment if I took a bath the night before, and get dressed
6:55 AM - Get on the road for my 30 minute drive to Corvallis. Snack on random food I grabbed while running out the door. Stop at the grocery store on my way to school and grab something for lunch.
7:30 AM - Arrive at school, get my last minute stuff together to teach or assist all day.
4:00 PM - After a long day of teaching either head home on my few days off from work or head to Salem for work. Salem was about an hour drive from Corvallis. I would get some sort of fast food to eat on my drive to hold my appetite over while I worked.
5:00 PM - Rush into work just in time to clock on. Work my over 5 hour shift running the women's department. I was a benefited team member which made me basically an assistant manager of the department. I was responsible if my manager wasn't there and spent my shift directing the department and moving constantly clearing the contents of the fitting room as I was our best "runner" in the store, something to this day I find ironic on my 50% or less lung capacity.
10:30 PM - I'd usually get out of work at this time. I would drive home, sometimes stopping at the store for a snack or dinner for that night or meals for the next day. After my nearly 30 minute drive home I'd get home and do any remaining lesson planning, treatments if I was up to it, then crash into bed.
My weekends were often filled with 8 hour shifts at work on both days, catching up on sleep, doing any lesson plans I could to get me through the week, and enjoying my own cooking after a week of processed and quick-cook foods.
Needless to say, this type of schedule would be harmful to a healthy person, but to me it was flirting with serious complications. But there honestly was no way for me to avoid the situation. I had to live in Monmouth for my low rent, I wasn't about to give up my dream of being a teacher after fighting so hard, and I needed to work at least 24 hours a week to hold on to my health insurance. As hard as it was, I was deeply proud of myself that I was able to do it. When classmates complained about how hard they worked when they were only teaching I laughed at them on the inside, wondering what they would do if they were in my position. I learned that I was more powerful than my situation, that if I really wanted something I could do it. I was stubborn, but it's the only thing that got me through.
After several months of this schedule, only weeks before graduation, my body finally started to protest the abuse that I put it through. I managed to hold off lung infections, I think through sheer willpower and grace from God, but my body needed a break and chose a very violent way to get it.
I had just wrapped up my 3 weeks of solo student teaching and had just returned to team teaching with my mentor teacher. School had let out for the day and I was spending the time after school working in the office at the paper cutter. I looked forward to my evening without work and was relaxed, when sudden, blinding pain rushed over me. It felt as if I had been stabbed in the back. I reached back to feel what was happening, but only found the tense muscles of my back. I knelt down to the floor, as waves of nausea rushed over me. My back was killing me and I could feel the muscles of my back and stomach tense. I stood up slowly, gathered my things, and willed myself to walk to my classroom where I laid down on the couch, waiting for the pain to pass.
After about 15 minutes the pain remained at high intensity. My mentor teacher saw me, noticed how poorly I looked, and sent me home. I made my way to my car in a fog of pain and used every last cell of my body to focus on the road... one more mile, one more instant, I could do it. I made it a few miles down the road where I felt the intensity of the nausea kick up. I stopped at a grocery store and rushed to the bathroom. I couldn't vomit, but I did use the bathroom, and rationalized that I was just backed up and going would make the pain better. I went out to my car, pain still gripping me. I continued my drive home, glancing at the hospital on my way, wondering if I should be driving to the ER and not home. I decided to go home, as I knew I was probably just having stomach cramps.
A few more miles down the road the waves of nausea turned into a huge crashing storm. I pulled over in the first safe place and was puking out the car door before I even got the car fully stopped. Two big heaves and my stomach was empty. I figured that I just had intense food poisoning, after all my ranch at lunch did taste funny, and I drove home, figuring the pain in my back would go away. I made it home, not even remembering the last 10 minutes of the drive. I hopped into the bath as soon as I got home, scalding my skin with the heat. The pain and tenseness in my back didn't go away. I climbed into bed, put a hot pack on my back and watched some TV. As soon as the water was hot again, I took another bath. Then to bed... and 15 hours later I awoke in bed in the same position I had passed out in. The pain was still there. A little voice in the back of my head started whispering "kidney stone". I dragged myself to my computer, looked up the symptoms. They matched me perfectly. I called my friend and we drove to Salem where I was quickly diagnosed with a kidney stone and gave heavy duty oral pain killers. I spent the next 2 days in bed, pain at a less loud roar from the drugs. The fourth day, I still had not cleared the stone and I was still in pain, but I had to go to school as we only were allowed 3 days off. I was useless, and my mentor teacher realized it, but I was still there. Finally that weekend my stone passed. It took me several days before my body recovered from such pain.
A few weeks later, college was all over, and I was off to start my adult life...
Showing posts with label college. Show all posts
Showing posts with label college. Show all posts
Friday, March 14, 2008
Monday, March 3, 2008
Falling Apart
This is Chapter 11 in my history... others can be found by clicking the history tab at the right
After my stain in the hospital, I returned to Western Oregon University to start the education program. I was excited that after years of school I was finally about to dive into the core of what I was there for.
Every student in the WOU education program is placed in a group with about 15 other students and one advisor. I ended up being placed under a man who was acting as his first term as an advisor. I will call him D, only to protect his privacy, but after this story, it's hard for me to do because I want to scream to the world about what he did.
I was familiar with D. Only a few terms before he was a fellow student with me in Teaching Writing. This was the class that I often butted heads with the professor in. I didn't think anything of D carrying over experiences from the class to being my advisor, but it happened.
At first I didn't really notice any problems. Going to class, working on projects, networking with fellow students was my concern. I think that entire first term I had a few weird feelings after things that D said to me, but nothing that really triggered much. The entire first term of the Ed program was devoted to starting work on our professional portfolio. We had to take pieces that we worked on through the term and show how they fit into to competencies that were required by the state. It was a time intensive project, something that I worked several hours on, and turned in with a sense of accomplishment.
The rug was torn out from under me when I met with D to discuss my portfolio. He berated my work the entire time. My work was filled with red marks, several per page, and paragraphs of angry words about my lack of competence as a student and a writer. I always struggled with grammar and spelling and having it all laid out in red screaming words hit my panic button and a deep seeded hurt. He picked apart every page, every thought. Even passages that were grammatically correct and spelled right were ripped apart because he did not agree with my style. I was devastated to say the least. Insult to injury was added when he picked apart how I acted in our previous class when we were both students. He told me that if I couldn't shut up and listen to a professor then I was giving myself a disservice to my education and I could never be viewed as a professional. That if a professor says it, I should automatically believe it as the only truth because they are the professional.
I came away from the meeting deeply hurt. I had an entire summer to lick my wounds. I considered several times contacting the university and being switched advisers, but I didn't know if I had just reason, and I believe in giving everyone a fair chance.
Fall started exactly where I left the situation the previous Spring in D's office. He continued to try to break me down as a person and as an academic. The volleys of insult increased in frequency and intensity as the weeks ticked by. I took solace in the fact that there were a few other students also being attacked by D, but I also received the brunt of it. D started to use my name in class to speak poorly about my work. Comments like "Well quite frankly what happened to you this week because your work was more terrible than normal" were said in front of the entire class. The irony of being taught that naming students by name and their performance was illegal in other classes that term was not lost on me.
I continued to take the abuse. I figured I'd show him that I could listen... but the pain, the shame, the desperation was building with each comment. We started out in the schools that term. My mentor teacher and I had a good working relationship and I was excited to be in the classroom. D frequently came to observe, and I know from asking other students that he came to observe me more frequently, waiting for me to slip up. He wrote me a vaguely worded email that I was not dressing professionally. That he had been approached by multiple people about this. While I doubted this claim, I knew that I did not dress as preppy as other kids in the program, mostly due to a lack of funds. My clothes were threadbare at times, and I didn't have time to iron everything as I was still working about 30 hours a week on top of my school work. At the end of the email he put that I "needed to watch myself". This single line pushed me over the edge. I took everything that I had documented about D, the occurrences that I have mentioned and many more similar ones, and I emailed them to the professor that I trusted most in the program. I also sent a copy to D. I felt that I should give him the chance to change, a last chance rope to appeal to his humanity.
I realized that I was being harassed. It may not be sexual harassment as so many young women experience in college, but it was pure harassment. Sending that email was difficult, but I couldn't stand to be his victim any longer.
My email was forwarded around the education program, but before any action could happen, I found myself in my final evaluation with my mentor teacher and D. A week before my mentor teacher had given me glowing reviews. After a closed door meeting with D, where he shared my email to him with my mentor teacher, which included nothing about her, my mentor teacher gave me a harsh review of my time. My scores on professionalism went way down based on my email and relationship with D. I was highly upset by this as nothing that happened between D and I effected my time in the classroom. Sharing that email was a huge slap in the face.
After this meeting I was called to the university to meet with D and the supervisor of teacher placement at WOU. What I was told was a mediation session turned into an assault on every thing that I did the entire time I was in the program. I was accused of doing things that never happened, I was told that I wasn't going to make it through the program, and that D had never done anything unprofessionally. When I gave examples like him sharing comments about my work, I was told that it was his right and that he was only doing what he could to teach me. I went from being deeply hurt to feeling my entire world fall apart. They cooked up a contract with a number of terms that were unfair to me as a student and told me that I had to sign it or I would be kicked out of the program. While I did not agree, I also felt I had to sign it as my dream was to become a teacher. I made sure that my disagreements with the contract were noted on it before I signed. They also refused to change me out of D's group, one of my main demands. I knew that no amount of "mediation" would make the situation better. I was tempted to quit there, because I was not sure how I could make it another two terms with D, after how badly he had broken me after the two previous. Before I left the mediation I also made sure that D and the other advisor knew that I was going to contact a lawyer about the harassment that I had received at the hands of the university.
In the fifteen minutes that it took me to get home, the university started singing another tune. They were more than willing to change my advisor, but I had to stay with the contract. This was something that I was willing to do, as long as I was freed of the toxic environment of D. I had to move to a new school to do my student teaching, but I was now under that trusted professor that I had sent the original email to. I didn't have the easiest time, but my new mentor teachers loved my work and crowed about my talents. They also realized that having a chronic illness, working 30 hours a week, the amount of commuting I was doing, and being a full-time student teacher was a lot to handle. They didn't require perfection from me and I flourished in their classrooms. My new advisor, while at times harsh, was far better than D.
I wish I could say that D was fired over the incident, but he wasn't. He continued to advise the other students, but I heard from them that he was less harsh on them after me. He disappeared from WOU that Spring. I soon found out that he was teaching at a local middle school. The thought of him working with students who were younger and weaker than I was at 21 broke my heart. However, D was found a few years later engaging in inappropriate conduct in a local park with several other men. I take solace in the fact that this got him removed from the classroom. He should never be allowed to break people like he broke me.
I am still recovering from D. I still feel very anxious when my spelling and grammar are corrected. I didn't write much for an entire year after college, even though I had so many other people tell me that I was talented. I always felt less capable in professional situations. I'm slowly getting my confidence back, but it has taken far longer to return then it left me. I also learned in the passing years that I was saved from D being my advisor by threatening that lawsuit. Unknown to me at the time, a top professor in the Ed school was under investigation for sexual harassment. While mine was not sexual in nature, the school did not need two harassment suits at the same time and went to all lengths to prevent it. State laws passed because of the other case setting up clearer pathways for students who feel harassed. I am happy those rules are in place, but they are mostly focused on sexual harassment. I hope the colleges realize that all forms of harassment exist and they are all devastating.
After my stain in the hospital, I returned to Western Oregon University to start the education program. I was excited that after years of school I was finally about to dive into the core of what I was there for.
Every student in the WOU education program is placed in a group with about 15 other students and one advisor. I ended up being placed under a man who was acting as his first term as an advisor. I will call him D, only to protect his privacy, but after this story, it's hard for me to do because I want to scream to the world about what he did.
I was familiar with D. Only a few terms before he was a fellow student with me in Teaching Writing. This was the class that I often butted heads with the professor in. I didn't think anything of D carrying over experiences from the class to being my advisor, but it happened.
At first I didn't really notice any problems. Going to class, working on projects, networking with fellow students was my concern. I think that entire first term I had a few weird feelings after things that D said to me, but nothing that really triggered much. The entire first term of the Ed program was devoted to starting work on our professional portfolio. We had to take pieces that we worked on through the term and show how they fit into to competencies that were required by the state. It was a time intensive project, something that I worked several hours on, and turned in with a sense of accomplishment.
The rug was torn out from under me when I met with D to discuss my portfolio. He berated my work the entire time. My work was filled with red marks, several per page, and paragraphs of angry words about my lack of competence as a student and a writer. I always struggled with grammar and spelling and having it all laid out in red screaming words hit my panic button and a deep seeded hurt. He picked apart every page, every thought. Even passages that were grammatically correct and spelled right were ripped apart because he did not agree with my style. I was devastated to say the least. Insult to injury was added when he picked apart how I acted in our previous class when we were both students. He told me that if I couldn't shut up and listen to a professor then I was giving myself a disservice to my education and I could never be viewed as a professional. That if a professor says it, I should automatically believe it as the only truth because they are the professional.
I came away from the meeting deeply hurt. I had an entire summer to lick my wounds. I considered several times contacting the university and being switched advisers, but I didn't know if I had just reason, and I believe in giving everyone a fair chance.
Fall started exactly where I left the situation the previous Spring in D's office. He continued to try to break me down as a person and as an academic. The volleys of insult increased in frequency and intensity as the weeks ticked by. I took solace in the fact that there were a few other students also being attacked by D, but I also received the brunt of it. D started to use my name in class to speak poorly about my work. Comments like "Well quite frankly what happened to you this week because your work was more terrible than normal" were said in front of the entire class. The irony of being taught that naming students by name and their performance was illegal in other classes that term was not lost on me.
I continued to take the abuse. I figured I'd show him that I could listen... but the pain, the shame, the desperation was building with each comment. We started out in the schools that term. My mentor teacher and I had a good working relationship and I was excited to be in the classroom. D frequently came to observe, and I know from asking other students that he came to observe me more frequently, waiting for me to slip up. He wrote me a vaguely worded email that I was not dressing professionally. That he had been approached by multiple people about this. While I doubted this claim, I knew that I did not dress as preppy as other kids in the program, mostly due to a lack of funds. My clothes were threadbare at times, and I didn't have time to iron everything as I was still working about 30 hours a week on top of my school work. At the end of the email he put that I "needed to watch myself". This single line pushed me over the edge. I took everything that I had documented about D, the occurrences that I have mentioned and many more similar ones, and I emailed them to the professor that I trusted most in the program. I also sent a copy to D. I felt that I should give him the chance to change, a last chance rope to appeal to his humanity.
I realized that I was being harassed. It may not be sexual harassment as so many young women experience in college, but it was pure harassment. Sending that email was difficult, but I couldn't stand to be his victim any longer.
My email was forwarded around the education program, but before any action could happen, I found myself in my final evaluation with my mentor teacher and D. A week before my mentor teacher had given me glowing reviews. After a closed door meeting with D, where he shared my email to him with my mentor teacher, which included nothing about her, my mentor teacher gave me a harsh review of my time. My scores on professionalism went way down based on my email and relationship with D. I was highly upset by this as nothing that happened between D and I effected my time in the classroom. Sharing that email was a huge slap in the face.
After this meeting I was called to the university to meet with D and the supervisor of teacher placement at WOU. What I was told was a mediation session turned into an assault on every thing that I did the entire time I was in the program. I was accused of doing things that never happened, I was told that I wasn't going to make it through the program, and that D had never done anything unprofessionally. When I gave examples like him sharing comments about my work, I was told that it was his right and that he was only doing what he could to teach me. I went from being deeply hurt to feeling my entire world fall apart. They cooked up a contract with a number of terms that were unfair to me as a student and told me that I had to sign it or I would be kicked out of the program. While I did not agree, I also felt I had to sign it as my dream was to become a teacher. I made sure that my disagreements with the contract were noted on it before I signed. They also refused to change me out of D's group, one of my main demands. I knew that no amount of "mediation" would make the situation better. I was tempted to quit there, because I was not sure how I could make it another two terms with D, after how badly he had broken me after the two previous. Before I left the mediation I also made sure that D and the other advisor knew that I was going to contact a lawyer about the harassment that I had received at the hands of the university.
In the fifteen minutes that it took me to get home, the university started singing another tune. They were more than willing to change my advisor, but I had to stay with the contract. This was something that I was willing to do, as long as I was freed of the toxic environment of D. I had to move to a new school to do my student teaching, but I was now under that trusted professor that I had sent the original email to. I didn't have the easiest time, but my new mentor teachers loved my work and crowed about my talents. They also realized that having a chronic illness, working 30 hours a week, the amount of commuting I was doing, and being a full-time student teacher was a lot to handle. They didn't require perfection from me and I flourished in their classrooms. My new advisor, while at times harsh, was far better than D.
I wish I could say that D was fired over the incident, but he wasn't. He continued to advise the other students, but I heard from them that he was less harsh on them after me. He disappeared from WOU that Spring. I soon found out that he was teaching at a local middle school. The thought of him working with students who were younger and weaker than I was at 21 broke my heart. However, D was found a few years later engaging in inappropriate conduct in a local park with several other men. I take solace in the fact that this got him removed from the classroom. He should never be allowed to break people like he broke me.
I am still recovering from D. I still feel very anxious when my spelling and grammar are corrected. I didn't write much for an entire year after college, even though I had so many other people tell me that I was talented. I always felt less capable in professional situations. I'm slowly getting my confidence back, but it has taken far longer to return then it left me. I also learned in the passing years that I was saved from D being my advisor by threatening that lawsuit. Unknown to me at the time, a top professor in the Ed school was under investigation for sexual harassment. While mine was not sexual in nature, the school did not need two harassment suits at the same time and went to all lengths to prevent it. State laws passed because of the other case setting up clearer pathways for students who feel harassed. I am happy those rules are in place, but they are mostly focused on sexual harassment. I hope the colleges realize that all forms of harassment exist and they are all devastating.
Sunday, March 2, 2008
More College
This is Chapter 9 in my history... rest can be found by clicking the links at the left.
It was very difficult to deal with the social issues that I had while in college. However, there was something much more difficult headed towards me, but that is still a few stops down the road, as there was good to talk about while in school, and a single moment that changed my life forever and made me never doubt my faith.
I loved almost all of my academic opportunities in college. Being able to take classes in the multitude of subjects that I was interested in was amazing. Having always had a strong aptitude in math and science, I took high level classes in meteorology, astronomy, and oceanography. I was recruited by nearly every math teacher I had to switch my major to math. While I knew I was talented in math, I wasn't interested, but knowing that other people recognized my gifts was awesome. Dabbling in choir was something that I wanted to do and never had the chance before, but did during my sophomore year, creating harmony with nearly 100 other talented students. I even got to take bowling as one of my PE credits. Nearly all of my classes came easily, but I also struggled some, something that was strange and unusual for me. I've always had difficulty with grammar and spelling, something that I have learned to be very effective in hiding or working around, but taking the three required classes in linguistics to get into the teaching program was pure torture for me. The concepts flew out of my head as soon as they were taught and the book made little to no sense to me. It didn't help that most of the professors were second language English speakers, so they had a hard time believing that a seemingly bright girl with English as a first language couldn't understand the material. There was one professor that I had most of the classes with that I repeatedly butted heads with. Between having her for linguistics and teaching writing, it was clear that we saw the world very differently. She was the type of teacher who taught by offering her opinion and way of doing things as the only way... while I knew that this was not true, and I was not afraid to challenge her. This is something that would later come back to me in unimaginable ways, but I will cover that later.
Summers during college I was offered opportunities to leave Oregon and work at summer camps. I spent the summer of 2001 working at Camp Vega in Maine as a nanny to the child of two of the employee's. The next summer I worked in California at Gold Arrow Camp as a drama counselor. Both camps opened my eyes to a world of riches that I was not exposed to before. The parents of the children paid more to send their kids to these camps than I earned in an entire year. I enjoyed my chances to see different pockets of the United States and people who lived lives far different than my own.
Also while I was in college I had the amazingly cool opportunity to be a support runner for the Olympic Torch when it passed through Salem, OR. I ran with 3 different torch runners, one of them being a September 11th widow who gave me the chance to run part of her leg of the relay. Having that torch, knowing how far that flame had been, and that I was the only person in the world holding on to it was very profound.
I also found a job that I was able to work my junior and senior years that also offered health insurance if I put in 24 hours a week. This was a huge deal as it took away stress that I felt about finding insurance coverage after I graduated and was dropped from my parents' policy. While working many hours a week would put great stress on me, I felt empowered by the fact that I was able to do it all.
By the middle of my junior year, the years of not taking good care of my health started to catch up with me. I often did not do my meds because I decided I was too busy. I think on some levels I felt that no one cared for me, so why should I bother to care for myself. I had nearly stopped doing all of my meds outside of my digestive enzymes that helped my process my food. This took a slow toll on my health, and by the time that spring break rolled around in 2003, I was sick enough for my first hospitalization. It was during that trip I had the most profound and faith assuring experiences of my life...
To be continued in the next chapter...
It was very difficult to deal with the social issues that I had while in college. However, there was something much more difficult headed towards me, but that is still a few stops down the road, as there was good to talk about while in school, and a single moment that changed my life forever and made me never doubt my faith.
I loved almost all of my academic opportunities in college. Being able to take classes in the multitude of subjects that I was interested in was amazing. Having always had a strong aptitude in math and science, I took high level classes in meteorology, astronomy, and oceanography. I was recruited by nearly every math teacher I had to switch my major to math. While I knew I was talented in math, I wasn't interested, but knowing that other people recognized my gifts was awesome. Dabbling in choir was something that I wanted to do and never had the chance before, but did during my sophomore year, creating harmony with nearly 100 other talented students. I even got to take bowling as one of my PE credits. Nearly all of my classes came easily, but I also struggled some, something that was strange and unusual for me. I've always had difficulty with grammar and spelling, something that I have learned to be very effective in hiding or working around, but taking the three required classes in linguistics to get into the teaching program was pure torture for me. The concepts flew out of my head as soon as they were taught and the book made little to no sense to me. It didn't help that most of the professors were second language English speakers, so they had a hard time believing that a seemingly bright girl with English as a first language couldn't understand the material. There was one professor that I had most of the classes with that I repeatedly butted heads with. Between having her for linguistics and teaching writing, it was clear that we saw the world very differently. She was the type of teacher who taught by offering her opinion and way of doing things as the only way... while I knew that this was not true, and I was not afraid to challenge her. This is something that would later come back to me in unimaginable ways, but I will cover that later.
Summers during college I was offered opportunities to leave Oregon and work at summer camps. I spent the summer of 2001 working at Camp Vega in Maine as a nanny to the child of two of the employee's. The next summer I worked in California at Gold Arrow Camp as a drama counselor. Both camps opened my eyes to a world of riches that I was not exposed to before. The parents of the children paid more to send their kids to these camps than I earned in an entire year. I enjoyed my chances to see different pockets of the United States and people who lived lives far different than my own.
Also while I was in college I had the amazingly cool opportunity to be a support runner for the Olympic Torch when it passed through Salem, OR. I ran with 3 different torch runners, one of them being a September 11th widow who gave me the chance to run part of her leg of the relay. Having that torch, knowing how far that flame had been, and that I was the only person in the world holding on to it was very profound.
I also found a job that I was able to work my junior and senior years that also offered health insurance if I put in 24 hours a week. This was a huge deal as it took away stress that I felt about finding insurance coverage after I graduated and was dropped from my parents' policy. While working many hours a week would put great stress on me, I felt empowered by the fact that I was able to do it all.
By the middle of my junior year, the years of not taking good care of my health started to catch up with me. I often did not do my meds because I decided I was too busy. I think on some levels I felt that no one cared for me, so why should I bother to care for myself. I had nearly stopped doing all of my meds outside of my digestive enzymes that helped my process my food. This took a slow toll on my health, and by the time that spring break rolled around in 2003, I was sick enough for my first hospitalization. It was during that trip I had the most profound and faith assuring experiences of my life...
To be continued in the next chapter...
Monday, February 11, 2008
Social Isolation
This is Chapter 8 in my history. Other chapters can be found by clicking the history link at the right.
As I progress in telling my story, I find it necessary to break from the chronological format that I've been following and instead start talking about broad concepts as my life began to get more complicated and less easy to break into small pieces.
I started college in September of 2000 at Western Oregon University. I had known at this point for a few years that I wanted to be an elementary teacher. I chose one of the best colleges in the nation for teaching, earned scholarships, and I was ready for a new challenge. I always had good grades growing up and learned easily, so I was not very intimidated by the world of academia. I was excited about the opportunity to challenge myself academically.
Because I lived my entire life in a small town, I knew everyone and I was fairly comfortable socially at that time. I wasn't the most popular, but I got along with the popular kids, I had a large group of friends that I trusted, and I was known for my bright and vibrant personality. This all was thrown in turmoil when I started at Western. There was only one other incoming freshman that I knew, a guy from my graduating class that I also had worked with at McDonald's. We weren't close, friendly enough to eat together in the dining hall, but nothing more. My long term crush, who was a year ahead of me, also went to WOU, but I hardly had the courage to talk to him, let alone create much of a friendship.
I thought that I would be okay at college. That I had grown from my social issues that plagued me in middle school. I quickly found though that I was very much an outcast at WOU. My dorm mates on my floor quickly bonded over shared experiences of getting trashed each weekend, skipping class, and keeping track of sexual escapades. While I didn't mind drinking with friends from back home, I didn't feel comfortable in the large party scene. I wanted to keep my scholarships and learn so I attended class. I believed in waiting until I was in love for sex, so earning points for doing it with two guys on the weekend was also out for me. I quickly earned the label of a square, nerd, and prude. It didn't help that I lived on a floor that was notorious for their escapades and I didn't quite fit in there. My roommate was okay and didn't participate in the scene of my floor either, but she was a star soccer player with a boyfriend so I spent as many nights in the room without her there than with her.
After a few weeks it became clear that I would not fit in on my floor. I tried out for the fall show, The Grapes of Wrath, and I earned a bit part after coming in second for the lead. I hoped that I could find some friends and acceptance in the theatre, which had been my home for so long. Instead, I found a group of already closely bonded friends who didn't have much room for a dorky freshman girl. I was never invited to go to cast parties, out to eat with them during breaks, and only involved in conversations if I made it a point to be involved. It was exhausting trying to be noticed. When I didn't try, I would be ignored and left to feel worse about myself. By November I was pretty sure that if I dropped off the face of the earth, no one at WOU would be the wiser. I'm still pretty sure that would have been the case.
By the spring of my freshman year, things had started to turn around a little, but the pain of that fall was still intense. I finally started to make friends from other parts of the dorms that I met in class or in the dining hall. Josh was another education major and he is still one of my good friends to this day. I also formed a friendship with his future wife Mik'ael. Jesse and George were roommates that couldn't stand each other, but I formed a friendship with both. I still talk to George, despite some rough patches, and he married one of my best friends from growing up, Jenn. I also formed a friendship with Lise, but lost track of her after time. But beyond that, I didn't have many friends at school. I would have people I was friendly with, but beyond those friends I had no one to hang out with. This trend followed me through all 4 years of school. If I had not had such strong friendships from growing up and renewed others from that time, I probably would not have made it through school and instead fallen into a deep depression. I'm fairly sure that I spent most of college depressed.
My sophomore, junior and senior years were spent living in very unhealthy roommate situations. I wasn't comfortable or happy at home or at school. My life was stress and it started to show in my health, something I will talk about later. My senior year was probably the most stressful. I had to deal with a situation that will be a chapter within itself that broke me for a long time.
I'd like to say that I became a stronger person for living through all of that. But as a social person, I think it hurt more than caused growth. I am glad that I was able to come out the other side okay, but I still am rebuilding myself. I still become anxious when I feel ignored or that people don't want me involved. I don't think that will ever change.
As I progress in telling my story, I find it necessary to break from the chronological format that I've been following and instead start talking about broad concepts as my life began to get more complicated and less easy to break into small pieces.
I started college in September of 2000 at Western Oregon University. I had known at this point for a few years that I wanted to be an elementary teacher. I chose one of the best colleges in the nation for teaching, earned scholarships, and I was ready for a new challenge. I always had good grades growing up and learned easily, so I was not very intimidated by the world of academia. I was excited about the opportunity to challenge myself academically.
Because I lived my entire life in a small town, I knew everyone and I was fairly comfortable socially at that time. I wasn't the most popular, but I got along with the popular kids, I had a large group of friends that I trusted, and I was known for my bright and vibrant personality. This all was thrown in turmoil when I started at Western. There was only one other incoming freshman that I knew, a guy from my graduating class that I also had worked with at McDonald's. We weren't close, friendly enough to eat together in the dining hall, but nothing more. My long term crush, who was a year ahead of me, also went to WOU, but I hardly had the courage to talk to him, let alone create much of a friendship.
I thought that I would be okay at college. That I had grown from my social issues that plagued me in middle school. I quickly found though that I was very much an outcast at WOU. My dorm mates on my floor quickly bonded over shared experiences of getting trashed each weekend, skipping class, and keeping track of sexual escapades. While I didn't mind drinking with friends from back home, I didn't feel comfortable in the large party scene. I wanted to keep my scholarships and learn so I attended class. I believed in waiting until I was in love for sex, so earning points for doing it with two guys on the weekend was also out for me. I quickly earned the label of a square, nerd, and prude. It didn't help that I lived on a floor that was notorious for their escapades and I didn't quite fit in there. My roommate was okay and didn't participate in the scene of my floor either, but she was a star soccer player with a boyfriend so I spent as many nights in the room without her there than with her.
After a few weeks it became clear that I would not fit in on my floor. I tried out for the fall show, The Grapes of Wrath, and I earned a bit part after coming in second for the lead. I hoped that I could find some friends and acceptance in the theatre, which had been my home for so long. Instead, I found a group of already closely bonded friends who didn't have much room for a dorky freshman girl. I was never invited to go to cast parties, out to eat with them during breaks, and only involved in conversations if I made it a point to be involved. It was exhausting trying to be noticed. When I didn't try, I would be ignored and left to feel worse about myself. By November I was pretty sure that if I dropped off the face of the earth, no one at WOU would be the wiser. I'm still pretty sure that would have been the case.
By the spring of my freshman year, things had started to turn around a little, but the pain of that fall was still intense. I finally started to make friends from other parts of the dorms that I met in class or in the dining hall. Josh was another education major and he is still one of my good friends to this day. I also formed a friendship with his future wife Mik'ael. Jesse and George were roommates that couldn't stand each other, but I formed a friendship with both. I still talk to George, despite some rough patches, and he married one of my best friends from growing up, Jenn. I also formed a friendship with Lise, but lost track of her after time. But beyond that, I didn't have many friends at school. I would have people I was friendly with, but beyond those friends I had no one to hang out with. This trend followed me through all 4 years of school. If I had not had such strong friendships from growing up and renewed others from that time, I probably would not have made it through school and instead fallen into a deep depression. I'm fairly sure that I spent most of college depressed.
My sophomore, junior and senior years were spent living in very unhealthy roommate situations. I wasn't comfortable or happy at home or at school. My life was stress and it started to show in my health, something I will talk about later. My senior year was probably the most stressful. I had to deal with a situation that will be a chapter within itself that broke me for a long time.
I'd like to say that I became a stronger person for living through all of that. But as a social person, I think it hurt more than caused growth. I am glad that I was able to come out the other side okay, but I still am rebuilding myself. I still become anxious when I feel ignored or that people don't want me involved. I don't think that will ever change.
Make a Wish and Scholarships
This is Chapter 7 in my history... the rest can be found by clicking on history at the right.
I graduated from Cottage Grove High School ahead of the game for most of my peers. I had decided to go to college at Western Oregon University, I had earned scholarships, and I knew that I wanted to be an elementary teacher, something that Western specialized in. I fought hard to earn money for school, knowing that my family's financial situation made it so that we could not afford to send me without help, but the only help we qualified for was big loans. I ended up earning a scholarship through my father's employer, a lumber mill, and also through Western Oregon's Diversity Scholar Program, a program that aims to give students with a different background a chance to go to school and raise awareness. The award was based on any type of diversity, not just racial, so I used my experiences of growing up as a CFer in my essay. I ended up earning 4 years of paid tuition, a dream come true.
But before I could pack my bags and move up to college, I had an opportunity to have another wish come true.... seeing Broadway.
From time to time when I was little, my parents would receive a call from the Make-a-Wish foundation that my name had been referred to them and if we wanted them to grant me a wish. My parents always declined, asking that they spend their money on families where the kid was sicker, dying, or were in worse financial shape. I was fairly healthy, had a normal life, and while we didn't have much extra, we always made it by. I agree with this decision. It's this selflessness that has enriched my life that I learned from them. When I was 17, the social worker at my CF clinic at Oregon Health and Sciences University asked if I had ever had a wish. My mom told her that I had been nominated in the past, but always declined to give it to those who needed it more. Wendy told us that while it was true that there were kids who were sicker, we had to deal with situations and hardships caused solely by my CF. She was going to nominate me again, and this time I was going to take it as I was about to become to old. Sure enough, the phone soon rang, the MAW foundation. This time we accepted the offer. Two wish granters came to the house to talk with me and find out what I really wanted. At first I held back, asking for maybe a computer for school, but after a little pushing, I reviled that I really wanted to go to NYC and see Broadway. After years of doing theatre, collecting soundtracks, and learning to play songs on my piano, I wanted to see it all live. MAW made it happen for us... the most amazing trip of my life.
My parents, sister Heidi, and I went to NYC in September 2000. Our hotel was in the center of Times Square and we had 6 days in the city. MAW arranged for us to get prime tickets to Cabaret, Chicago, and Swing. All were amazing. I was so happy to see Cabaret, as it was, and still is, one of or my favorite musicals. We also toured the city, getting a VIP trip to the top of the Empire State Building, the ferry to the Statue of Liberty and Ellis Island, and trips to all the top museums. We also got ourselves into see the Rosie O'Donnell show (who has a nephew with CF), Dave Letterman, and saw a taping of the Today Show. We never had a dull moment... and it was amazing.
I am forever grateful for that trip... one of my biggest dreams came true. I was going to college, I had graduated high school, I earned scholarships, and I had seen Broadway. So many of my goals were achieved in a short little window. I looked forward to college with great optimism... however, it soon proved to be the most difficult and challenging period of my life. Something that will probably take awhile to write about, so stay tuned.
P.S. - I will be posting a few pictures of the trip, but I need to make a trip to get them and scan them :)
I graduated from Cottage Grove High School ahead of the game for most of my peers. I had decided to go to college at Western Oregon University, I had earned scholarships, and I knew that I wanted to be an elementary teacher, something that Western specialized in. I fought hard to earn money for school, knowing that my family's financial situation made it so that we could not afford to send me without help, but the only help we qualified for was big loans. I ended up earning a scholarship through my father's employer, a lumber mill, and also through Western Oregon's Diversity Scholar Program, a program that aims to give students with a different background a chance to go to school and raise awareness. The award was based on any type of diversity, not just racial, so I used my experiences of growing up as a CFer in my essay. I ended up earning 4 years of paid tuition, a dream come true.
But before I could pack my bags and move up to college, I had an opportunity to have another wish come true.... seeing Broadway.
From time to time when I was little, my parents would receive a call from the Make-a-Wish foundation that my name had been referred to them and if we wanted them to grant me a wish. My parents always declined, asking that they spend their money on families where the kid was sicker, dying, or were in worse financial shape. I was fairly healthy, had a normal life, and while we didn't have much extra, we always made it by. I agree with this decision. It's this selflessness that has enriched my life that I learned from them. When I was 17, the social worker at my CF clinic at Oregon Health and Sciences University asked if I had ever had a wish. My mom told her that I had been nominated in the past, but always declined to give it to those who needed it more. Wendy told us that while it was true that there were kids who were sicker, we had to deal with situations and hardships caused solely by my CF. She was going to nominate me again, and this time I was going to take it as I was about to become to old. Sure enough, the phone soon rang, the MAW foundation. This time we accepted the offer. Two wish granters came to the house to talk with me and find out what I really wanted. At first I held back, asking for maybe a computer for school, but after a little pushing, I reviled that I really wanted to go to NYC and see Broadway. After years of doing theatre, collecting soundtracks, and learning to play songs on my piano, I wanted to see it all live. MAW made it happen for us... the most amazing trip of my life.
My parents, sister Heidi, and I went to NYC in September 2000. Our hotel was in the center of Times Square and we had 6 days in the city. MAW arranged for us to get prime tickets to Cabaret, Chicago, and Swing. All were amazing. I was so happy to see Cabaret, as it was, and still is, one of or my favorite musicals. We also toured the city, getting a VIP trip to the top of the Empire State Building, the ferry to the Statue of Liberty and Ellis Island, and trips to all the top museums. We also got ourselves into see the Rosie O'Donnell show (who has a nephew with CF), Dave Letterman, and saw a taping of the Today Show. We never had a dull moment... and it was amazing.
I am forever grateful for that trip... one of my biggest dreams came true. I was going to college, I had graduated high school, I earned scholarships, and I had seen Broadway. So many of my goals were achieved in a short little window. I looked forward to college with great optimism... however, it soon proved to be the most difficult and challenging period of my life. Something that will probably take awhile to write about, so stay tuned.
P.S. - I will be posting a few pictures of the trip, but I need to make a trip to get them and scan them :)
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