Going back to school to complete my college degree was always a dream of mine. However, sometimes that dream appeared as a little black cloud hovering over me everywhere I went. That cloud always reminded me that I had failed to complete something I had started so many years ago. To me, completion equals success.
As a Christian, I prayed constantly to the Lord for a way to head back to college and finish that ever elusive degree and be rid of that little black cloud hovering over my head once and for all. I sought completion.
Finally, at age 35 and after so many years of praying, the Lord answered me with a "yes."
In 2002, my husband and I found ourselves up to our necks in debt. So, we decided to sell our house at the beginning of the housing "boom". As a result, we were able to pay off the debt and have some money left for me to head back to college. Unfortunately, it also meant leaving a 1500 sq. foot home and moving into a 900 sq. foot apartment with our 9 year old son.
My husband also went back to school online and I attended ground courses. Because we didn't want to deplete all our savings, I took a job at our church as a janitor and worked as a reading tutor at a local public school.
I often found myself at the college until late at night finally arriving home exhausted only to find a note from my son begging me to wake him so that he could hug me. Month after month of scrubbing toilets and mopping floors, late nights in the computer lab, and dinners out of the vending machine began to take its toll on me and my little family. Our son got into fights at school and his grades suffered. My husband worked full time and was also a full time student. Because I was an art major, our tiny apartment was filled with my art projects and art supplies scattered on the counter top.
One night, as my family slept, I looked around our apartment and thought about what I was doing to them. I was overwhelmed with guilt and exhaustion.
"What am I doing?" I asked the Lord. "Is this even worth it? My son is struggling in school and he misses me. My poor husband is trying to be dad and mom. I have so much homework all the time and I hate being a janitor. Surely, this isn't all there is?"
I sat at our dining table sobbing. You see, when I prayed to God to be able to go back to college, I forgot to do what Jesus advised to do: count the cost.
Luke 14:28: "For which one of you, when he wants to build a tower, does not first sit down and calculate the cost to see if he has enough to complete it?"
I could hear the conversation in my mind:
Me- "Lord, can I return to college?"
God- "Yes, but you will lose your house, move into an apartment, work as a janitor scrubbing toilets, miss your young son, hardly see your husband, have a lot of homework, and be exhausted all the time. Still want to go back to college?"
I decided then and there to quit college, get a full time job so we could afford a house, and give my son some semblance of a normal life. But before I quit, I decided to read an essay that was assigned as homework by my American Literature professor. The essay was "A Struggle for An Education" by Booker T. Washington.
My life would never be the same.
In his eloquent and honest essay, Mr. Washington recounted how he, a former slave, decided to pursue a college education finally afforded to him by the abolishment of slavery. This fascinating essay describes how education was not only a dream for this man, but for all the other former slaves around him. He describes how he worked for a white woman in her house sweeping her floors over and over because she was a perfectionist. I could relate. He then went on to describe his 500 mile journey south to the school on stagecoaches and walking because he ran out of money. He described how he had to sleep on sidewalks rather than in hotels due to the color of his skin. He went on about how he worked small jobs to earn some money to eat until finally reaching the Hampton Institute. He was seventeen years old.
Penniless, he worked as a janitor in the school sweeping the floors to perfection. He took pride in his work and, with tears in his eyes, he watched the students walk to class with books in their hands- free to pursue an education. Mr. Washington went on to graduate from college with honors, teach, write, and then build his own school: Tuskegee University in 1881.
After I read the essay, with tears in my eyes, I wrote an email to my American Literature professor explaining to him that I wanted to quit school and give up and get a full time job so that my family could live like "normal" people and not struggle anymore. And then I read our homework assignment. I went on to explain to my professor how I couldn't quit after reading what Mr. Washington had endured for his education. Now my pursuit of a Bachelor's degree meant more to me. As a Mexican woman, I knew I would be the first in my family to obtain a higher education degree. I knew my late grandparents, who started out as migrant workers and worked in hard labor, would trade places with me in a heartbeat if they could because they knew what a college degree meant. I hadn't truly understood until I read that essay.
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