When I was a senior in college, I was offered a part-time job at the Jet Propulsion Laboratory. It was a Cal Tech internship for college seniors and I jumped at the chance to find some direction. According to my parents and their friends, a simple degree in English was no different that a Bachelor's degree in Underwater Basket-weaving. I was reminded regularly that I would never make a living unless I became a teacher. So I become a proofreader.
That internship led to a full-time job after college and I quickly moved up the ranks from proofreader to editor to writer. It was a heady experience to play with the brilliant scientists at Cal Tech and there were very few women in the field at the time, so I felt like a pioneer and that made okay to set aside my dreams of being an artist. I was making a difference, right?
Until I went back to college for my M.A. in Creative Writing, all I wrote was technical documentation: concept papers, operation manuals, procedure manuals, maintenance manuals. But I was writing about amazing innovations: satellite dishes at the Deep Space Network in Barstow, information systems for Pacific Bell, Citibank ATMs in their infancy, manufacturing systems for Hughes Aircraft, and credit card technology for Visa. And, as time passed, I got better and better and learned the game: I changed jobs to increase my income and exposure, I moved from job to job, hours to house. And my daughter trailed along behind me.
Around 1985 or so, I realized that I was a victim of the Golden Handcuffs. I was making more money than I ever imagined I could and I saw no way out. If I left the field, I would be starting at the bottom again. I was a single parent, though, and decided it was time to choose family over fame and fortune. That is when I became a high school teacher. It was best for my family and it led me to discovering that I love to teach.
There was a snag, though. I was having so much fun in the world of education that I decided to go back to school for my Master's degree. In 1998, when my daughter was in her freshman year of college, I went back to college. I dallied in Journalism, wrote a weekly editorial for the Iowa State, and began the ISU Creative Writing program.
These are just a few of the articles I wrote for the paper. The headlines are appalling, the work of an egotistical editor-in-chief who thought he was adding value to the stories, but they are what they are. My 15 minutes of fame:
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