Unrealistic Expectations

Guidance Counselor

Remember back in high school when you were a senior, and you had an appointment with the guidance counselor to discuss your plans after high school? I remember it so vividly that it clutters my rational thinking.

During the last semester of my senior year of high school, all the seniors had to schedule an appointment with the school counselor. The principal and counselor wanted you to outline your plans after graduation. Were you searching for employment, examining the future college campus, signing up for courses at the local junior college, finding work at any of the large automobile factories, or working on the family farm?

As I think back to that appointment book we all had in high school and look at the schedule, I had a two o'clock appointment, or the last block of the school day. Actually, I had been excited to discuss my plans after high school. Why wouldn't I be? Being a good student, on the honor roll, having been in many after-school activities, and having my whole life ahead of me, why wouldn't I be happy to inform them of my summer plans?

Pleasantries

Looking down at my watch, it said one fifty-five. The final bell rang, so I packed my belongings into my bookbag since I planned to walk home after this appointment.

Walking down the quiet halls, I heard my footsteps on the polished tiled floors. I felt lucky being free from class and heading into graduation, which was only a few weeks away. As I approached the guidance counselor's door, I saw a bench outside his office. I sat down, arranged my bookbag, and took a deep sigh. I couldn't believe I was leaving these halls and my friends in a very short time.

I watched the doorknob turn and the clouded glass door open. The counselor, who had always been very friendly, invited me into the office. He motioned for me to sit down, and we chatted about the latest sports events and whether I was looking forward to graduation. He even asked if my family had scheduled a graduation party. Little did I know what was in store for me after this short discussion.

The Rug Pulled Out From Underneath Me

I remember him asking me, "So what are your plans for the summer?" And, being an honest, naïve teenager, I went into this elaborate scene of working in an office in a big corporation, because Detroit and Toledo were very close to our small town. I went on to inform him that I had plans to save all of my earnings so I could attend college. My parents were on board with my decisions, and I could stay at home to save money.

When I finished my detailed intentions for the next year of my life, he sat back in his chair, placed his palms together, and said, "I can't see that happening."

What??

Feeling completely dismayed and horrified, I made the mistake of asking him, "What do you see for my future?"

He sat up in his chair and pulled out a spreadsheet of seniors who had left school over the past few years. I didn't know they tracked students after graduation. At this point in our meeting, I really don't remember much of this part of the informal debate about my plans.

All I remember is that at the end of his meeting, the percentage of students who enrolled in college was less than 1%. And out of that one percent, the students had been straight-A scholars.

His final words were, "I don't think you are college material."

What??

Walking Home

I felt proud of myself for not bursting into tears when he spoke those words. Talk about deflated and discouraged right before graduation. In fact, I never told my parents about this conversation because I became mortified by what someone in authority thought of me.

All of my siblings were excellent students, great athletes, and admirable people. I don't think I ever spoke up in class or to anyone in authority while I was in school. Neither did my siblings.

Walking into school those final days became extremely difficult for me, and I couldn't leave there fast enough. And I say that as someone who absolutely loved academics, loved my friends, and admired my teachers.

After Graduation

After the ceremony and saying goodbye to my friends, I didn't attend many graduation parties. I kept to myself for a bit.

Then one of my dear friends called me. Her dad worked at a large corporation in Toledo, and I believe he was a department manager. Anyway, there were openings on the clerical floor, and he wondered if I wanted to fill out an application. So I did.

I remember the day exactly, June 17th, after graduation. I had an interview appointment. I had on my best dress and heels. Her father told me there would be other candidates for this interview process and wished me luck. And when they escorted me to the room outside the interview office, there sat the Salutatorian of our high school class. I was surprised and asked her if she was interviewing as well, and she was.

My heart dropped. I'm going up against the class Salutatorian. I don't think I have a chance. Well, my heart sank once again.

After the interview, they told me to wait in the waiting room. One by one, the candidates left until the only two people left were the Salutatorian and me.

We both had another meeting with the department head, who outlined the position and said we would start the following week.

At the end of the day, I had the position, and I can't tell you how validated I felt after that meeting.

Post-Graduation and Life

A lot has changed since that day long ago. Yes, I did graduate from college with a master's degree in education and had a fulfilling teaching career.

Reflecting on teaching, that moment during my senior year taught me a valuable lesson that carried over into my own teaching career. First, I would never speak those words to a single student. Teachers encourage, not discourage. I had a seasoned teacher tell me once, "You never know what's sitting in front of you every fall. It may well be the next president."

I never forgot that phrase.

You never know when words will shatter someone's ego or deflate them into obscurity. Words can bite you when you least expect it. You have to really be secure in yourself to keep going. And it took me a long time to feel secure in my own abilities.

And now, decades later, I'm doing it again — chasing a dream I was told I didn't have the material for: writing a novel and querying literary agents. If that guidance counselor could see me now, elbow-deep in queries and rejections and small victories, I think he'd still say he "can't see it happening." And I'd still prove him wrong.

So if you're reading this and have a dream, I would encourage you to keep working toward it. Don't let anyone burst your idea, dream, and aspirations.

Keep writing!

Dianne

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