Solar Energy

I had a conversation with my uncle the other day about life decisions. He was telling us that when he was younger, he was really interested in solar energy, and wanted to make this interest part of his career. He moved from the northern suburbs of Chicago to Prescott, Arizona, enrolled in a technical college, took some IT classes, and on the basis of one or two classes, got a job at Hughes Aircraft (which is now Ratheon, the world's 4th largest defense company), moved to Tucson, and 26 years later, continues to work in IT--not in solar energy. He likes his job, but it's not what he thought (or maybe dreamt) he would be doing with his life. Is he regretful? He said he wasn't, and I believe him.

When I was five, I said I wanted to be a lawyer. I really wanted to be Michael Evans from Good Times, but since that was going to be a hard transformation, I chose the job he desired for his future. I said this all through grammar, middle, and high school. I want to be a lawyer. I want to be a defense attorney. I want to be a public defender.

I enrolled in "pre-law" at Loyola University Chicago, and quickly realized two things: 1) there is really nothing called "pre-law"; 2) I didn't want to be a lawyer. Sure, I like to argue, and more importantly win arguments, but I couldn't see seven years into my future. It freaked me out, actually. I had a hard enough time getting through my first year of college, let alone prepare myself for undergraduate work and Law School. I gave up on the life-long ambition.

Throughout my time at Loyola, I made many declarations about my future. I majored in speech communications, journalism, psychology, social work, English literature, and finally, Creative Writing.

I decided during my junior year, that I wanted to be a writer. I've always enjoyed the creativity of writing, and the fact that you are able to put sentences together to entertain. I also knew that I needed life experience to be creative. I picked a path that would allow me to live life while trying to create art.

There have been times in my life when my writing was consistent, productive, and well received. There have also been times in my life when my writing ceased to exist. But it's always been a part of me. I would have never known that at five years old, or fifteen years old, or even 39. I love the path my writing has taken me these days, even if no one ever reads my words, but also since people can and do. The encouragement motivates me. I put them down so I can work things out, understand my life, look backward, look forward, share.

Thank you for being part of the process.