“It’s not my fault you joined the Navy”, the detestable wench that worked for the Navy Exchange Salon comments as she whacks off the hair at my neckline with a flow-bee type device. She made the statement as though she happened to be in the middle of the highlight of her own life. I’m quite sure when she finished beauty school performing the same two haircuts for $8/hr and no tip was not on her dream job list. Yet here she is offering her opinion on my life’s decisions. A tear rolled down my cheek, followed by no sound at all. It was as though I was rendered deaf and dumb all at once. The level of disrespect and helplessness I felt took me beyond rage back to simply unraveled. Rather than act in response to her statement as my old passionate self would have I began to ponder, to whom does the blame belong? The hair is falling down around me like the ashes in a post Armageddon film scene, life as I had known it was officially over. The journey to that miserable woman’s chair began with a series of events.
A college education has been the holy grail of everything I endured as a child. I remember the first day of kindergarten; my father took time off to take pictures of my big day. This was the first of thousands of his pep talks. “Maggie today is the first day of a great big journey ahead of you; you have to pay attention to everything your teacher tells you so you can learn. Once day you’ll grow up and go to college, but it all starts here, so do your best.” I remember asking too many questions and getting in trouble. I used to stay late in Elementary, since my Grandmother worked there, worried about my transcripts, and wondering how I would gain entry into college with a C on my book report on The Boxcar Children. Attending college was such a huge deal that my favorite show was A Different World, I used to want to be Whitley the spoiled Daddy’s girl debutante that ended up getting a job as an Art buyer and her husband was a software developer for a video game company. There was one character name Julisa on that show that didn’t go straight to school from high school, she was about 25 and divorced trying to start afresh. She was not my favorite character, but in the opening credits she rips up some paper and throws it in the air & that was my favorite part to imitate. At the time I thought that was a display of being in control and in charge. She would cross her arms almost as a dare to anyone that didn’t like what she just did. I had no idea just how much that moment would mean to me later in life.
Being a college student and starting my life with a degree consumed so much of my time and energy that anything other than that seemed illusory. During high school I joined and became the president of a junior sorority to secure my social status on campus and build a network for employment post-matriculation. I was a Varsity cheerleader and part of the cultural committee with a 3.5GPA until my parents spilt and my mother and I moved to Georgia. I had a job before I finished registering for school my junior year and even when my Grandmother moved in with us because she was sick I maintained a 3.3GPA with a full class load and a job. Thinking all the while that I might as well get used to having a lot of work to do because once I arrive at college things are going to be frenzied.
UGA stands for The University of Georgia, Bulldogs are there mascot and they have an active chapter of my sorority and a Law School on campus. This was where I decided that I wanted to begin my dreams. I worked hard and submitted my application. $50 that I did not have went off to Athens, GA along with all of my hopes and dreams of taking advantage of Georgia’s Hope Scholarship that would only leave the expenses of my books and fees. I get a letter in the mail weeks later.
“Thank you for your interest, we regret to inform you that you have not been accepted for enrollment….We would rather a 4.0 and a low ACT/SAT score than a high ACT/SAT score and a 3.0….”
There was no other school in Georgia that I could afford that I wanted to attend. None of them had the full package. My cousin graduated from Spellman, but I didn’t have the grades that would make me eligible for a full scholarship, and when your parents are in the middle of a divorce cross-country asking for any more money isn’t even an option. It was at that point that I went numb. I couldn’t figure out how, but I was determined not to let my dream fade away. I shut down all reasoning and prayed until something happened. Not going to school, definitely not an option.
Panera Bread Company was my first job. They hired me as part of the work program at my school. Half of the day my senior year was spent taking orders and slicing bread with students from the other schools in the area. One day Mandy, a co-worker, walks in smiling ear to ear. “What’s wrong with you?” I ask jokingly. “I just joined the Navy”, Mandy replies. “They have sign on bonuses depending on what job you pick and they have 100% tuition reimbursement while you’re enlisted and at the end of your enlistment they give you more money for school.” My ears tuned up while I finished my customer’s order and as soon as my line was clear I asked her what it took to join. My shift ended at 4:00pm and by 1620 I was filling out the preliminary paperwork to enlist in the United States Navy. “Mom, come pick me up at the recruiting station, I’m joining the Navy,” a direct and full statement, no questioning tone or hesitation. “Okay,” my mother almost sounded relieved. She knew I’d been trying to find a solution to my dream differed. It took 2 weeks to finish swearing in and I had the entire summer before I actually left for boot camp.
My friends all thought I was crazy, they said that I could take out loans and go to Georgia State like everyone else. But, watching my parents go through being in debt, a loan of any sort was out of the question. I had several going away parties and last time moments with everyone except my family. Everyone was just glad that I was doing something after high school that they could brag about to their friends. I think my mother even now owns more Navy paraphernalia than I ever have. “Are you sure?” seemed to be the theme of my last summer as a civilian. It was as though nobody believed that I had thought my decision through. My friends knew I was committed when I cut my hair and I believe that they were afraid I’d snapped after not having everything fall into place as I’d always planned. They all acted as if there seemed to be some hole in my theory of obtaining “free” school.
November 4, 2002 my last night as a civilian was spent in a hotel room with three strangers watching 13 Ghosts speculating what the next day would be like. We never went to sleep so waking up isn’t how we met the next morning. We were issued our packets after some last minute tests and sent to the airport. Inside the Atlanta airport is stressful enough without being responsible for keeping up with people that you just met an making sure all of their records are accounted for. The flight was a mess since there were a couple of people that had never flown and they couldn’t hold back the panic attacks mid-air. By the time we landed everyone was stressed out and ready to sit down. Lining up for the bus trip was a breeze, once we sat down we were given a clip board and a survey of sorts, looking back I believe the purpose was to keep track of who stuck around.
We pulled up to the gates and got waved through by people with guns, jumped off the bus, ran in The Golden Thirteen Building and stood where we were told. “This is it, day one to free school”, I remember thinking. After a night of walking around in circles and signing my name they separated the divisions and sent us to our “Ship”, which is the building we would be living in.
The testing began that night. They showed us where our canteens were and how they work as well has how many of them we had to drink each day. The first one we all drank together, the whole thing in 30seconds. Some people threw up, some didn’t finish, but I got the whole thing down as directed. Still on auto-pilot doing what I had to, to make my dreams come true.
You hear about it in the wild all the time; a female gives birth to a child and shortly after the attention and glow of having performed the miracle subsides, the child is left to its own devices. I am the fallen eagle chick pushed heartlessly from the nest only to find that my wings are not strong enough to soar gracefully to another branch, but I continue to flap my wings determined not to succumb to gravity’s inevitable pull. I flap not only as if but because my entire life is at stake. That thought is the conclusion that I come to as I look at myself in the mirror of the bathroom staring at my horrible haircut. It’s not her fault I joined the Navy, it’s not a matter of fault at all but rather one of choice. I could’ve given up and got a loan to go to the community college that everyone attended while I stayed at Panera, but I chose to do something drastic to foster a dream.
As I write this paper, receiving a stipend to go to school along with paid tuition, that life decision is one of the best one’s I could’ve made. I am currently a college student with a 3.8 GPA; not like Whitley with my parents footing the bill, but more like Julisa 25yrs old wrapping up a bad marriage and working relentlessly watching my dreams come true against all odds.
~Margaret Ellen
Private Thoughts in Public Forum 