Who I Grew Up To Want To Be (pt. 1)

Do you remember how important the question always was when you were a kid?

“What do you want to be when you grow up?”

Remember career day? I certainly do. In 1st grade I was a printing press operator – because, you guessed it, my Mom worked as a printer part time, and it was so fascinating to watch her work those big, loud, dangerous machines, using the metal plates and the stinky chemicals. In 3rd grade I put on a dressy skirt and sweater, may or may not have borrowed a briefcase from my father, and, lo and behold, I was going to be “The first female president of the Universe” when I grew up. (Take that, Hillary!)

I went through a lot of “…Want to Be’s” and “…Will Be’s” growing up. There was the phase in middle school when I wanted to be a child psychologist. Or a Broadway legend. Sometimes I just wanted to be both. Towards the end of high school I had a strong urge to go off and photograph the world for National Geographic. And always, during every phase and new ambition, I remained a writer. It just went without saying – always a novel, a play, a collection of poetry, (usually at least three or four different projects) ‘on the back burner’… always something waiting for the right moment, the right mindset, the proper inspiration. Even as I write this, there is a novel, a chapbook, and a story of indeterminate length, all calling me from across the room. Even as I write this with great determination, my brain urges me to sidetrack, and my eyes urge me to nap.