I am fascinated by me.
More to the point, I am fascinated by what it will be like, plopped down with professors my age, students half my age, and me not really fitting in with either group. I don't feel sorry for myself; while I'm a bit nervous about it, I'm more interested than anything. The potential dynamic created by being a peer, age-wise, with the teachers, and activity-wise, with the students, makes me feel a bit like Jamie, the girl in fifth grade who was a head taller than the tallest boy in the class. She couldn't catch a break.
Several of my former piano students have now graduated from college and are pseudo-adults. The first-year students at Hamline this fall were born when I was beginning my fourth year at Concordia. And so on; if there's an age-related statistic surrounding this little adventure, I've thought of it.
I've had a taste of it already. When I registered for classes, Jason, the nice guy advising me, finished with my paperwork, and said, "Is Rohr an uncommon name, or are you all just hidden?" I replied that I didn't know too many other Rohrs, and he mentioned, "It's just that I went to Macalester with a Gretchen Rohr. Actually, she was a year ahead of me. Wasn't she a Rhodes Scholar?"
Sigh.
Yes, my youngest sister, eight years my junior, golden child of the Rohr clan, had become an emblem, after only an hour on campus, of my meandering path through life.
I could do worse than try to follow in her footsteps.
4 comments:
OK. I've just finished interviewing my friend who's an English teacher, in preparation for my response. (It was the lazy person's plan - even easier than Cliff's Notes - I just asked a question and she did a brain dump.)
In literature, one of the main organizing priciples is the story of the hero's journey. Also called a monomyth. The hero sets out on an adventure, sometimes willingly, sometimes not.
There are three parts to the journey:
1. separation. crossing the threshold. this is usually done by a young person, but not always. in this phase, the hero is gathering tools that he will need in the land of adventure. things like a backpack, or a steinway L.
2. initiation. this is the big quest. the land of adventure. the odyssey. it's good to blog during this phase, i'm pretty sure.
3. return. the hero has to go back, or somehow complete the journey. this is where the hero has a big party and invites all his friends over to thank them for their help and encouragement and tells what he's learned, and there's really good food.
In a good monomyth, the hero fights against all odds, and usually wins, or has success in the end.
Success does not always mean the hero is alive. (I'm just quoting her here. For the sake of completeness.)
And apparently we're all in our own hero's journey, creating our own monomyth.
How cool is that?
Oh Rhodes Scholar, schmodes scholar. You kick butt, and don't you forget it.
Aha. Yes.
Deb has wonderfully demonstrated the use Archtypal literary criticism, one of my favorite critical theories (listen up, Scott, and you'll be ahead of the class).
One additional note about the hero's journey. Neither the reaching of the destination (Mount Doom in Mordor, the Death Star, The Hamline International Piano Institute) nor the retrieval of the searched-for object (grail, horcruxes/hallows, a B.A.) is what determines success. What the hero gains is self knowledge. Always.
It's fun to be along for the journey!
PS Deb's right about the hero's journey typically being taken by the young. The grown-up version is the "last chance for change" story, in which the main character is old enough to know who he is, has failed in some way, but gets another shot at doing things right or being a better person. Hero's journey stories are perhaps more romantic, but there's a special humanity to the last chance stories that I like. They are grace-full.
1. We're all fascinated by you, too, or we wouldn't be reading and commenting on your blog!
2. Wow. Okay, Deb and Ann are definitely very smart. I'm feeling stupid today so will not try to reach their level of comments. They win.
3. Yes, I'm eager to hear what it's like for you to be 40 in this 20 zone. I've already imagined all kinds of scenarios where you're bonding with your teacher one moment and your fellow students the next. Can't wait.
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