Saturday, November 2, 2013

muppeteer and other career choices

Life's like a movie, write your own ending. Keep believing, keep pretending. — Jim Henson


When I was growing up, my mother gave me two pieces of advice that I completely adhered to and will offer to any young person with career aspirations: 1) Get a 4-year college degree; and 2) Don't start a family until you've attained your college degree. I took a roundabout route to the college degree thing (the 5-year plan!), but I did get one. From USC, no less. No matter what else happened in my life, no one could take it away from me. That framed document (ok it's actually unframed and currently residing in a box somewhere) represented the assurance that I'd always be able to support myself financially, as well as opening many doors for me career-wise. More than that, it afforded me the understanding of references to Oedipus and The Odyssey at parties (not that they've ever been the subject of conversation at any party I've ever been to, but just in case, I'll be ready!). In short, that degree represented the belief that I was smart. And I can't imagine how I would have attained it in addition to caring for babies, or even a husband, at that time in my life. Thanks, mom!

But what college? What major? How to handle it financially? These are the questions tormenting both of my kids at this moment in their lives. I so want to play puppeteer-mom and make every decision for them. But of course, I can't, and wouldn't. All I can do, really, is keep convincing them of their unique brilliance, offer a few well-intentioned suggestions, and remind them of a deadline or two. From my own experience, and I'm not gonna sugar-coat this, the decisions you make at this stage in your life are crucial. But no pressure or anything! Ha.

I know it sounds corny, but my ultimate wish for my children is that they go in the direction their hearts take them. Both are creative, artistic types — and I know what you're thinking: How in the world will they will make decent livings at careers in the arts? My answer? You don't know my kids. I hope I've encouraged them enough over the years to have total confidence in their own talents — completely off-the-charts in both cases. As one of my favorite 80s singers proclaims, "You can't get what you want if you don't know what you want." And of course, you can't know what you want if you don't really know who you are or in what areas you excel.

So why not base an entire career on the area in which you exhibit the most geek-like enthusiasm? Maybe because many of us insist on listening to those "but you're not ..." voices in our heads. And then we become accountants or administrative assistants. (Not that there's anything wrong with these!)

An example from my own life: Growing up, I was well aware of my own talents, but had no idea what I wanted to do with my life. I take that back. I actually did. Don't laugh, but back then I wanted to work for the TV show Sesame Street. My brother and I were fanatics for that show. We owned and operated our own muppet-puppets and proudly performed shows at family gatherings featuring big headed Ernie, Bert, and Grover bobbing to "Rubber Duckie" and "Manamana." We watched that show religiously, even as teenagers, and came to understand its humor and brilliance on a purely adult level. What I'm trying to say here is that in the back of my mind I KNEW I'd fit well into that creative, behind-the-scenes world. But it was such a crazy idea ... so unattainable that I dismissed it at an early age and that was that. I have since had great career opportunities, including working at the White House (which I gave up for a guy, but that's another story!), but I often wonder where I'd be today if I made the PBS show (and its subsequent spin-offs The Muppet Show, The Muppet Movie, et al.) my be-all-end-all focus from early on. To this day I believe that a career as a muppeteer may have been my true calling. 

So here's my tried and true advice to career-minded young people: Go with your heart — but go 100 percent. Search out schools and scholarships and talk to people in fields that interest you. (People love to talk about themselves, especially their successes, and will be honored you contacted them!) Set one big goal and also little adaptable ones to help you get there. You are young and you have some time — a year or three in the whole scheme of things really won't matter — but start NOW. Treat it like the biggest research project ever. It IS your life, after all. Oh, and by the way, just being young is an asset, so you already have that going for you! (Old people know this, believe me!)

One more thing: You are guaranteed to make mistakes, but in hindsight, you'll be thankful you made them. What you deem as a failure or wrong turn at the time might turn out to be most helpful in defining who you are and what direction to take next. This is precisely the reason I am not waitressing today!

Still unsure about a future career? Create your own!

With love, ~k














Wednesday, September 4, 2013


That job you didn't get probably wasn't meant to be! Keep plugging on ...

Tuesday, September 3, 2013

doubts 'n stuff



Welp, my first entry to this blog was not near as successful as I'd hoped. For starters, I ended up posting a photo of myself at age 18 holding up an ad for German beer, which, in retrospect I've determined was not the best message to send to my target demographic! (I was squeaky clean in high school!) Speaking of demographics, not one person under the age of 35 "liked" blog entry #1 when I posted it on Facebook.  Am I the only one on the planet with an inner voice that shouts "you suck" in about a million variations?

Truth is, I don't suck, I was proud of what I wrote, and believe I have a bit of talent at this writing thing. It is futile to hang on positive words from others when I know well and good that most people, even those who think I'm absolutely fabulous, rarely take the time to compliment. I need to be cool with that.

Gonna keep going with this thing.

Saturday, August 31, 2013

one age

I was German club president in high school.
This picture is wrong on so many levels! 
The other night I attended a function at my daughter's high school called "Meet the Broncos," where the players from every fall season sports team are strewn across the football field and personally introduced by their coaches to bleachers full of community members and proud parents. As I made my way to the seats, my daughter's tennis-skirt clad girlfriends waved wildly from the field, lovingly calling my name. "They like me," I thought. "They really like me!*" I returned their gestures with a high two-handed wave accompanied by a random body wiggle. My daughter, also in the tennis line, turned red, covered her face, and did a 180ยบ. I like to think I'm the cool mom, but let's face it, a mom will never be cool to her own daughter. I am OK with this.

I love these sweet, goofy chicks and I heartily applaud my girl for choosing them as her friends — every one of them, quirks and all, are precisely the caliber of human beings I'd choose to hang out with on a daily basis. I'd also gladly hang with any of the now jr. high/high-school aged kids who attended the home preschool I ran back in the early 2000s— they were, and still are, some of the funniest, most loving human beings I've ever had the pleasure of knowing. Which brings me to the point of this blog entry and pretty much the theme of the entire blog: Who's to say that a 49-year-old mom can't enjoy a friendship with a high school student or a preschooler — or a senior citizen, for that matter? Aren't we all really 17 at heart?

I would have completely rebuked this idea back then in favor of the comfort of my own little high school box. What could an older person possibly have in common with me? But now I see how messed up that train of thought really is, and how much I missed out on by not having one in-depth conversation that I can recall with a teacher, parents' friend, or neighbor.

Indeed the core of my being remains my high school senior self, although after 32 additional years of life experience I am now a much wiser version. (And by life experience I mean failure after miserable failure!) Yup, the shy senior whose yearbook appearances consisted of president of the German Club on page 119 and a first row center in Advanced Vocal Ensemble on page 176 still pretty much sum me up. And through graduations and marriages and children and careers and all the things one goes through in a lifetime, I actually learned stuff — stuff I that may or may not be valuable to girls (and maybe boys too) of any age. Like the new color of nail polish I just discovered and the realization that I really am smart. And despite my daughter's inevitable mortification at the whole idea, I'm going to share some of them here with anyone who will give me the time of day.

I hope you like the blog!

* Click here for an old person's explanation of above-cited reference: You like me. You really like me!