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Caps in the Air


May 1982

This weekend is the 35th anniversary of my graduation from college. I am loving all the photos on social media from the graduates and their families. I especially love seeing the tassels turned and caps tossed in the air. Some of the photos are of my former students. I’m sure many of them don’t realize the significance of this moment. Early in our time together, I had encouraged them to set academic goals and find their purpose in life while they were hopeful, young, and energetic. When we stand on the threshold of a new beginning such as college, marriage, or parenthood, do we understand the gravity of those decisions and accomplishments? I didn’t.

Life in 1978 when I graduated from high school and started college…..indulge me here for a minute: We had no internet or Google, mobile phones, personal computers, digital cameras, cable TV, debit cards, or media such as CDs, DVDs, or video recorders……My packing list for college included a Kodak Instamatic camera with flash bulbs and film in cartridges, a manual typewriter, a toaster oven and electric popcorn popper, bean bag chair, record player and LPs, an assortment of jeans and shirts and a dress for church, and maybe three pairs of shoes, including flip flops for the shower. When my brother left me in Chapel Hill, I had never even spent the night in a house with anyone I wasn’t related to. I finished high school in the top 3% out of a class of 400+, but I was clueless as to how to study, manage my time, or get along with a suite of girls who were all very different from me. Yet, I stayed, and came back year after year until I graduated. Believe me, my transcript is not pretty. I spent far too many nights up late playing backgammon and eating raw cookie dough. I could have been a much better student if I had been more prepared for the rigor not to mention the culture shock, however, I regret very few of those choices. The most valuable lessons I learned in Chapel Hill did not come from textbooks or time spent in the library.

You see, I shouldn’t have been there. My father suggested I just get a job at the Winn Dixie and find a nice guy to marry. He did not support this journey, financially or otherwise. We were a working-class family and very few of my relatives had even started college, much less graduated. Neither of my parents even finished high school. I knew I wanted something beyond the borders of Fayetteville, North Carolina, where the only thing more prominent in the news than the 82nd Airborne was the topless bars downtown. My high school guidance counselor led me through the process for applying for admission and financial aid. I took the SAT because I had to, but I didn’t even know what it was. I shake my head now at the hours and money parents invest in the SAT prep classes for their children. While I am sure these classes help, I succeeded despite myself. I only applied to one college because the $25 application fee was hard to come by. If I had been rejected by UNC, I would have applied somewhere else, but I wasn’t wasting that money otherwise. When I look back, the only explanation I can give is that the Lord went before me clearing the twisted and turbulent path. Even though at the time I was unfamiliar with Jeremiah 29:11(ESV): “For I know the plans I have for you, declares the Lord, plans for welfare and not for evil, to give you a future and a hope.”, the verse was playing out in my life.

At Easter this year, our pastor led some of our members to stand before the church with cardboard testimonies. On the first side, they had written a problem or situation, and then revealed the solution through the redemption of Christ. I don’t have a dramatic testimony, but this display made me contemplate what my cardboard testimony would say. I just thought of this one earlier in the week:

Emotionally abusive father refused to support my dream of a college education.

My heavenly Father cleared my path to graduate and teach the next generation.

I never intended to be a teacher. I started out as a Journalism major, but I switched to English which later became Secondary Education. The writing career became a teaching career, and I found that I loved teaching. Even in the various nonteaching jobs I have held, I am always teaching something. I was surprised, but God wasn’t. This was what he planned for me all along. While I am no longer young and energetic, seeing the happy faces of my former students in their caps and gowns fills me with a new passion for teaching yet another class.

Standing on this new threshold? Pray that God will direct your path. One day you will look back and be amazed at the accomplishments He brought you through.


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