I Feel Confused

22Oct07

I have 2 opportunities in front of me, but can only choose one. I’ve had this feeling before. This deadlock. Indecision. Dreadful hesitancy to take the wrong path. I think the first time I felt it was when I was 13.  Let me explain:

I was homeschooled as a child. I went to Montessori school and from then on, learned how to read, write, multiply, divide, add, subtract, solve equations, estimate the atomic weight of a molecule, write a prize-winning essay, et cetera–all from my home, out of books or from watching public television. I had time with friends. My mother got together with local homeschooling parents and us kids played baseball in the park. I loved pitching. I had even gone to some weekly classes where I did my first science project, learned to play the ukulele, and joined the boy scouts.

At the age of 13, already a very serious boy, I considered the future of my education. College was a must. My father was valedictorian and has a Master’s from a major national institution and just being related to him I felt too smart not to go. I went to the library and read “Psychology Today”, Kahlil Gibran, and Herman Hesse.

I was afraid of the wild, messy world of other kids who often did drugs, wasted time, and started fights out of boredom. Most of all, I was afraid of wasting my time with them.

Then, at the beginning of summer I got the worst haircut ever. It was bad. It was a flattop that was shaved. My mother had taken me, a self-conscious 13-year-old to a barber who used the latest technical convenience–an electric trimmer attached to a vacuum–to level my head. It was fast, easy, and had horrible results. I felt flattened. I didn’t even want to go out in public. If I had to go somewhere with my family, I was content to stay in the car and read a book.  Looking back now, I realize that I felt as thought it was then end of the world for me.

Then, instead of retreating to my books, I decided I needed to do something new. Maybe it was because I watched Indiana Jones movies, where Harrison Ford’s character always learns the language before he visits a distant land. Maybe it was because I imagined myself growing out my hometown, out of my family, and traveling myself. I decided I needed to go to Public High School and learn Spanish.

So I went with my bad haircut to the school and enrolled in Spanish I, along with a bunch of other requirements. It was scary, but I decided to do it.

For a few reasons, most likely related to the opportunities in front of me, I feel like I’ve got a bad haircut again. I’m not sure of myself and not sure how it will all shake out.

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