• Mama PhD

    Mothers attempting to balance parenthood and academics.

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Chop Wood, Carry Water

Last Friday, Ben called me at work. I answered with some trepidation, because 1) he knows not to call me during supervision hours unless it is an emergency, and 2) he never calls, only texts.

January 13, 2013
 

Last Friday, Ben called me at work. I answered with some trepidation, because 1) he knows not to call me during supervision hours unless it is an emergency, and 2) he never calls, only texts.

"I'm in," he said.

He didn't have to elaborate. He had been accepted into his college's BFA program in "sonic arts," or music composition, performance, recording and distribution. Jubilation reigned.

When I got home that night, I greeted him with, "Congratulations, Mr. Musician!"

He grinned, but responded, "I was going to be a musician no matter what. Now it just might be a little easier—and it will definitely be a lot harder."

He was referring to the demanding nature of the program. He knows students who have camped out in the sound studio for days at a time to complete projects on tight deadlines. "I'll be doing the same things I was already doing," he said, "but with a higher bar, and supervised by experts."

I think that is what anyone with a vocation wishes for: the chance to push ourselves past perceived limits, guided by those who already excel at what we want to do.

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