And so it goes. Or went. When I took myself to my first community college in 1973, it was completely without assistance from my parents. I had no money of my own. Neither parent made a donation of cash to get me started in the world of academia. My mom because she too had no money (divorced and broke) and my biodad (even though he had the means) because his philosophy was, “Life was hard for me, why should it be easier for you.” With that I walked the campus for 3 semesters running on fumes. I don’t really know how my tuition was paid. Of course, community college tuition at that time came to approximately $8/unit. I guess that was manageable on my babysitting money. Lofty goals. After 3 semesters I had grown tired of lackluster lectures and lackluster energy coming from the other students…not to mention my lackluster performance, all accompanied by my penniless status.
To sustain myself and even reach a better state of mind it would have served as a tremendous boost to get parental assistance. Nothing. No guidance, no advice, no cash. I was left to my own devices. And my own devices were marginal. So, after those three semesters, I unofficially withdrew from that college. How sweet it all may have been had I been able to count on a leg up from my parents.
I can offer a further glimpse into the so-called father in my life by virtue of reading Monster Under My Bed.
Don’t miss Graduation Day.