Circus Girl
Copyright 2006 by Suzy Wurtz
This school year, I’ve been a
substitute teacher in six school districts. For me, one of the joys is getting
to know the young people and hearing what they’re all about. As the mother of a
9th grader, I’m always interested in talking to high schoolers from
different places. Recently, some seniors were sharing their college plans with
me. As I listened to their conversation, I was struck with the fact that for
them, college was a place to learn a skill or trade in order to get the “good
job.”
“There was a time when a university was a place where you
went to learn things just because they interested you,” I commented. “And to
figure out a career while you were there, not before.”
“Not at these prices!” one girl quipped back. “You have to
decide your career before you go in.”
I nodded. But I told them that I’d had a number of careers
in my life, and that I’m not done adding new ones. Though I worked jobs in my
“major” and “minor” college areas, my highest paying job, the business career,
was one I hadn’t even studied in college.
Actually, I had one of the most-feared college majors among
parents—Theatre. It’s right up there with Art History and Philosophy to get the
inquiry, “But what will you fall back on?” My wise parents were supportive of
my choice and weren’t the ones asking the dreaded “fall back on” question.
Instead, they encouraged me to follow interests.
I learned that parenting lesson well from them apparently. A
few years ago, my daughter burst in the door after school. “Would you let me
join a circus?” she asked.
“Not while you’re in middle school,” I replied dryly.
I had visions of Mickey Dolenz as Corky, the 10-year-old
orphan in the 1950’s series, Circus Boy. Corky’s parents had died in the
high wire act. The kindly clown, played by Noah Beery, Jr., adopted him. I kept
seeing little Corky feeding Bimbo, the baby elephant, and waving at my daughter
as she emerged from the tent after her daredevil equestrian act. She had a
fabulous pink sequined costume with a big headpiece. Pink is a good color for
her. But I snapped back to reality. “Why on earth would you want to join a
circus?”
“Just answer the question,” she said. “If that’s what I
really wanted to do, you’d say it was ok, right?”
“I don’t think you’d like the lifestyle….”
“Yes or no,” she demanded.
“Honey, if that’s what you really want to do after high
school…sure. And Dad and I will be your biggest fans.”
She smiled triumphantly. “I KNEW that’s what you’d say!” She
started to leave, then turned back and added softly, “Thanks,” and left the
room.
It was an odd discussion because this was a child who didn’t
even like WATCHING a circus. Later that evening, I found she’d been in a
conversation with other kids who speculated that their parents “wouldn’t let
them” study to be outlandish things like rock musicians or circus performers.
My child had announced that we would let her make her own choice. Some of the
kids challenged her on it, and she wanted to make sure she was right.
No, she wasn’t at all interested in joining a circus. She was
interested in whether or not we’d let her be her own person.
Whew. I passed the test. In theory anyway. In a few years,
though, I have to take the real test. I’m fairly certain we won’t need
the list of circus schools, but I won’t throw it away just yet.
|
Previous Column| |Next
Column |
Back to Top
