Bless Us, Every One

"No space of regret can make amends for one life's opportunity misused"

It’s the last day of classes for the semester. Lying in bed this morning, my husband and I were sifting through some stuff. That’s one of the beautiful things about education—the more you learn, the more connections you see. Ideas and experiences from different parts of your life intersect. My husband is retiring in a few months, and together we’re forging a new path, envisioning what our future will look like. What truly matters to us. Where we’ll end up. Alongside that, there’s everything else—the state of the nation, having a child in college, nanoplankton eating microplastics, the philosophy of time, drawing a self-portrait, making quilts/art/pottery/dinner, watching movies, loving family, caring for animals, and reading books. It’s a lot to take in.

I feel fortunate to have the time and space to think about these things, to be free to worry, for the most part. At over 50, I’m still able to imagine a new future for myself. There are so many people—on my block, around the world—struggling to survive. People fearing for their lives, trying to feed their families, or simply hoping for a day without pain. When you think about those realities, a liberal arts education can feel small. But then you realize it’s this very kind of education that keeps you aware of these struggles in the first place.

Yesterday, I spoke with one of my professors, who lamented how small the audience for a liberal education is—how privileged it tends to be—and expressed concern that such a small ripple might not be enough. That we, as a human race, need an entirely new way of thinking to address the mess we’ve created. And he’s right. We do. But the truth is, the only way forward is through education—an education that’s free from misinformation and fairy tales. One that challenges us to look at the world critically and collectively, to find a way out.

The only thing we can do is learn. And keep learning.

My husband is the most voracious reader I know—a true history buff, always in a state of learning. Whether he’s reading a book that’s far too long or listening to podcasts about war and peace, he is always seeking knowledge. He’s the smartest person I know, and I value his perspective immensely. Plus, he’s my number-one cheerleader—a job that, admittedly, is thankless and must be utterly exhausting.

This semester was filled with self-questioning, but that’s nothing new. What’s new is the wish that I’d understood my self-worth earlier in life. It’s easy to get caught up in the whirlwind of time, with little space to manifest things for yourself. Many of the things that have happened to me have been lucky accidents, but not entirely. When I had to drop out of college, I got a job, saved up, and moved to New York. And I made it. (People write songs about this shit!) I got to act in New York (at least for a while) and work for the Muppets (which was a dream.) I’ve had amazing jobs with wonderful people. I met a man who took me around the world and made me a mother. Some of it was luck—like the start of my education eight years ago. It was simply being in the right place at the right time, a friend telling me about a job I otherwise might never have known about. Getting a job at Trinity has been one of the most life-changing events of my life, and I’m deeply thankful for it.

And now, sitting at this table watching students rush to and from their final classes, I realize this moment isn’t a fluke. It isn’t luck. It’s the result of hard work that I’ve chipped away at over 16 semesters. Little by little. My final year is halfway through. The learning at this point is everything to me. My husband and I decided that that’s all there is to life, and that is more than enough to find happiness.

It feels a bit decadent to celebrate in light of so much bad happening in the world, but still, there must be joy. Like the great Dickens wrote all those years ago, “I will honour Christmas in my heart, and try to keep it all the year. I will live in the Past, the Present, and the Future. The Spirits of all Three shall strive within me. I will not shut out the lessons that they teach.”

This is my joy, and I do not take it for granted.

(BTW, if you haven’t read A Christmas Carol lately, tune in. That book is just about as good as it gets.)