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Cindy

Droog

 

 

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March 24, 2008

Student Loan Paid Off: Creative Instincts Were Worth It

 

Celebration! This week, I made the final payment on my undergraduate student loan.

 

As I signed my name on that check, it occurred to me that everything I’ve gained over the last 20 years of my life – including one journalism degree, six great jobs, 100-plus close friends, one amazing marriage and two incredible kids – have all come from a complete rebellion against what my parents actually wanted me to do.

 

As a mom, that scares me. It means that whatever I’d like my boys to do, I’ll probably be wrong. All my thoughts of what’s best for them could very well be seen by them as obstacles. 

 

At least, that’s how I felt about my parents’ wishes.

 

For my mom, when it came to my future, it was about money. She wanted me to have it. She wanted my financial safety net to be wide.

 

I think it’s because she dropped out of college to marry my dad, and with that decision, was cut off from any financial support from her parents. She didn’t want me to struggle through my 20s like they did. She begged me to go to community college for two years. Live at home. Keep working at the KFC I’d been managing. Have health insurance. Be responsible. Be safe.

 

I wanted the exact opposite. To live hours away. To pretend I’d never been charged with taking a raw chicken out of a bag and mixing it in secret spices. Be risky. Be silly.  

 

For my dad, it was all about being relevant. He’d been laid off from the steel mill in the 1980s, and over the next 10 years, watched most of his childhood friends lose their jobs to automation.

 

“Do something with computers,” were the four words he said to me most frequently since I’d turned 14. Every time I’d share my ideas, I’d get, “And what does that have to do with computers?”

 

To him, computers were the future. The safety net for all employed. The magic bullet to career success. And three universities an hour from home where I could study them. 

 

But I hated them. I refused to sign up for the computer elective at my high school. Instead, I sat in study hall and doodled and wrote poetry in my notebooks. One day when my dad and I were arguing about college, I remember – clear as day – yelling, “If you love computers so much, you major in them!”

 

And guess what? He did. He got his Associate’s degree in computer technology, and worked for the next 20 years at a hospital, major greeting card manufacturer and major retailer at their computer help desks. He loved it. Not much – except fishing – made him happier than being the geeky guy that everybody else needed.

 

As for me, I was determined to write creatively. To live hours from home. To attend college where nobody from my hometown would go. I wanted to start over, and I wanted to do it my way.

 

I did that. And while I was away at college, going very, very far into debt, I learned who I was. Not just a rebellious 17-year-old who chose a creative field just to spite her parents, but a young woman who wanted to express herself and help those who couldn’t to do the same.

 

I’m fortunate. I get to spend my days doing that, and I’m just as happy as my mom was as a young wife, even minus the expensive washing machine. And as my dad was as the guy who the CEO had to call because he didn’t know how to figure out his desktop printer.

 

It goes to show that, eventually, our instincts can turn into worthy pursuits. So, if my sons want to major in underwater basket weaving in some university in Europe, it won’t be worth arguing about.

 

And, if they’re willing to write a check for it every month until they’re well into their 30s, more power to them!

 

© 2008 North Star Writers Group. May not be republished without permission.

 

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