There is a growing belief that college isn’t as important as it used to be. The belief is that higher education may not be worth time and money, especially because of debt when there is no guarantee of employment afterward. Sadly, money is the only deciding factor for many. Most people agree areas such as medicine and engineering need training, and yet also realize blue-collar workers’ wages increase without the burden of school loans. However, there are other advantages to attending college besides money. It’s true financial reasons are an important factor in deciding whether to pursue higher education or go directly into the workforce. College, combined with exposure to a large variety of people, provided a vision for who I am and of my worth. The college provided me with a special understanding. I was born into poverty, which made me hunger for a better view of myself. I instinctively knew the lens I peered through was narrow and I wanted a broader picture to measure my worth. In the end, I discovered my worth was the same as before the world tainted it. I learned I am who I thought I was and my measurements as a human being were correct.
I come from a poor country people who are humble, value family, work hard, and hold close to their faith and hope. Before beginning primary school, how I viewed myself centered on my mother’s view, which is worthy and good. Consideration of others and hard work leads her view. Since I strove for these, my self-worth felt healthy. At the same time, I knew certain needs were not satisfied. Sometimes we needed food and clothing and didn’t have enough. I longed for more, yet my self-worth remained intact. Just because we needed things didn’t mean I, or my family, were undeserving, and that poverty would be held against us. Poverty wasn’t an appropriate measuring stick.
A change occurred when I started school and is where comparison slowly whittled my self-worth. I learned others had plenty of food and varieties I didn’t know existed. I learned about fabulous places like Disneyland did too because classmates spoke of them during “Show and Tell.” I learned my clothes were faded and were too baggy or too small. I learned others could buy books from colorful monthly flyers. When orders came in, I stayed quiet and watched my teacher pass shiny books to my classmates. I learned the way I spoke wasn’t always correct, either. Even at a young age, I realized these things were not in my control. No amount of consideration for others, hard work, faith, or hope would make a difference. The realization that I was different arrived, and I held myself back to not draw attention to myself. I grew quiet. I stopped raising my hand when I knew an answer.
As my primary education grew, so did my expansion of people throughout history. I learned about the wide variety of standards and views, but my lens remained limited. Moving through primary education meant exposure to a wider populace, yet remained limited due to the inhabitants living in the same local geographical area. The standard of the lens was similar. Those in the area held similar understandings and values. Although I could compare myself and learn who I was had widened, my place in geography and my parents’ vocation remained limited. As a result, my measurement still came up short. I felt less than others.
By high school, I’d grown accustomed to my position and hung around a small circle of friends who held similar measurements. All the same, the idea of being less than others persisted because everyone in school lived in the country or nearby tiny villages. The school’s view of fairness governed, although not completely like my mother’s, they held ideas of positive standards and certain rules of fairness. Those who didn’t follow these were seen as bucking the system outright. In my mind, there were only two choices, good and bad. Absolute evil came from the few deranged and misled. Since I followed these rules, my measurements wavered, but remained partly healthy. By now I knew the biggest difference resulted from poverty and I continued to hold myself back. The shame remained because the measurement remained.
In time, I learned very few were as kind and hard-working as my mother. My measurement of her remained as well as her influence. She is responsible for the fundamental foundation of not only my ethics but those of our family to this day. One of these values lies with schooling. She told me education would provide the change I wanted, would level differences, and raise me to be good enough. My hunger to rise drove me. I worked hard. I continued my education and eventually earned a master’s degree. As the years went by, my mother’s rule about kindness remained my guide. In time, I had much to compare myself to, not only with those of today but with those from yesterday. What I found would have remained simple and uncomplicated if not for my father.
My father differs from my mother and played a part in why shame remained. My confidence struggled against his negative and critical outlook. Whatever I did was never good enough. I always fell short of his measurement. He often pointed to what I lacked, to what I did wrong. He held little regard for schooling since he hadn’t finished high school. My father worried about what the neighbors thought instead of the thoughts of his family. His anger and twisted measurements affected the whole family, especially my mother. I eventually realized he controlled her because he couldn’t control anything else. She became the reason for all his failings. To maintain control, he worked to destroy her self-worth. Even before my lens grew wide enough, I knew my father wasn’t fair. He fueled my drive for better measurement.
Besides standard education, life granted experience. Though harsh, life is an outstanding teacher. I attended higher learning at two universities over the years and eventually worked at a wide assortment of places with an extensive variety of people. There were diverse levels of income and locations, and I spent time with and worked with people from urban, suburban, rural areas, poverty, and wealthy income levels, essentially people from all around the world. I found a few people meaner than I’d ever known, and some extremely kind. A few were tricksters who measured stabbing others in the back to prove their intelligence and some who measured with dedication to saving others.
Measurement of myself and my worth went full circle. After searching for proof of who I was, and gaining a wider lens, I ironically found my worth the same as when I was a child, the one my mother provided. I know who I am today and feel better about myself. I understand others too. Everyone looks through a lens, and as a teacher, that is important. Today, I teach college classes part-time as an adjunct with monetary pay and try to make a positive difference in others’ lives. The reward is satisfying. My students come from all walks of life from all around the world, and every new semester, I work to instill positive worth, hope, a wider lens, and the rewards of hard work. My lens now shows me as the decent human being my mother told me I was as a young girl. Education made a difference in my self-worth and taught me who I am.
