Never too late to bust out

By JoAnne Young 

 

The end of the semester is nearing, and I am back in the flow of school terms and breaks, and learning from the art of hermit crabs, who find new and bigger shells as they grow.

 

I had only a vague notion when January kicked off the 2023 new year that by the end I would be finishing off my first college course in decades, in a new adventure I’m hoping will lead to a master’s degree. I couldn’t know how thrilled I would be to open that envelope and read: “The Office of Graduate Studies congratulates you on your admission to the University of Nebraska at Omaha.”

 

My journey began somewhat like that hermit crab. When I retired from journalism in 2021, it was time to crawl out of my tight-fitting shell of work and identity. It also left me feeling vulnerable to disappearing, becoming irrelevant, and bored. 

 

The pandemic still raged when I left my job, so my jump into finding my next cozy shell was delayed. It took some months, but I found a good one – a campaign worker trying to get a high-quality woman, Patty Pansing Brooks, back into government on the national level. Great haven for a year, then time to look around the beach of my life for another. 

 

Not too long into my search, I met with Professor Lisa Knopp to get a copy of her new book, “From Your Friend, Carey Dean,” about her 23-year friendship with death row inmate Carey Dean Moore, whose execution I covered extensively for the Journal Star. As we talked, she told me about the creative nonfiction program she was part of at UNO, and I took note.   

 

As my enneagram type suggests, my tendency is to be curious, creative, reflective and reserved. I had been on my way to a master’s degree in journalism in the mid 1980s when I swerved and started my newspaper career. Maybe now, it was time to turn back. This summer I started the paperwork, got accepted at UNO and reclaimed the role of college student. It took the courage to be imperfect and the willingness to do something where there are no guarantees, to stop trying to control and predict. 

 

I’m finishing up my first class, and already unexpected things have happened. I am learning that I can come out from a protective shell and take my time to look around, learn and listen, rather than skittering around trying to find new cover.

 

When I told a friend I thought I was going to take college writing classes, her question was this: after decades of being a professional writer, what is there left to learn? 

 

Oh, so much. 

 

With journalism, a writer must put herself aside and lean on the facts, feelings, opinions and actions of others. In my first class,  The Modern Familiar Essay, I have learned from other writers, from students in my class and my professor how much more interesting it is to show yourself, to reveal your imperfections, and lean into the messiness of life.  

 

In one semester I have learned from Ian Frazier about the nobility of Crazy Horse, how he remained himself from the moment of his birth to the moment he died, how he knew exactly where he wanted to live and never left, how he never surrendered, and when he fought, he fought in self-defense and took nobody with him when he died.

 

I have learned from Annie Dillard’s Living Like Weasels, the effect of looking into the eyes of a weasel, a moment that dismantles the world and plunges the weasel and the woman into a black hole of eyes. From Leslie Jamison, in The Empathy Exams, a glimpse into the job of a paid medical actor, who must feign symptoms and teach doctors in training the art of empathy. From Lisa Knopp, in My Velleity, the less common words that describe emotions; “velleity” is a wish or inclination not strong enough to lead to action, “umpty,” a feeling of being too much and all in the wrong way, “toska” – a term for a longing with nothing to long for, a vague restlessness. 

 

Possessing a wide range of words to accurately and precisely name our emotions, the writer explains, can help us to better regulate our emotions. 

 

I have thoroughly enjoyed being in class with young women and men as they start their adult journeys toward unknown horizons. I secretly love the challenges of learning new communication systems. And I am deliciously grateful for the opportunity I was granted recently to be a graduate assistant next semester and to work with UNO Professor Kay Siebler. 

 

Turns out that successful hermit crabs show some of the same traits as nontraditional students: a bit of boldness and a tendency toward exploration, a willingness to investigate strange objects, and a fighting spirit. They love their shelters, but also the company of like-minded others. 

 

Thank goodness for the growth that leads to finding a more fitting shell.