Spiral back to Fall 1982, and I have transferred to The University of Maryland, College Park. I am walking up and down 5,000 hills to find The North Gym. My English class was scheduled for a classroom in the basement of this alleged building. This, in itself, seemed dubious at best.
I followed the campus map, turning it this way and that, attempting to bypass my lifelong spacial perceptual impairments to get to class on time. I end up…on a farm. Yep, we’re talking about sheep, cows, the pungent scent of manure, wondering, “Where the hell am I?”
A farmer happened by, and I, dressed in a gauze skirt, t-shirt untucked, and toe ring sandals, sheepishly (no pun intended) ask him, “Excuse me, sir. Would you be able to help me?” At that point, I had tears brimming my eyes, but fought them back with every bit of Army BRAT.
The elderly farmer (who was probably forty years old) ambled over to the fence and said, “Oh, Honey, this is part of the campus. I bet you feel like you’ve wandered over the rainbow.” I appreciated his Wizard of Oz reference and could have used the Ruby Slippers at that point.
I explained that I was a UMCP student in search of The North Gym. I also asked, “Where am I?”
He laughed gently and said, “This is actually a part of the campus. It’s for the students studying Animal Science and other studies.”
I had no idea that in the middle of the hell hole that was the Urban Blight of Route 1, there was still farmland, let alone a farm belonging to the University. He pointed me in the right direction, and I did make it to the bowels of The North Gym, a tad late but in the right place.
Two days ago, I was once again on the University of Maryland campus, which is now known as UMD, and is a huge ass place!! There are buildings, streets, and a whole side to campus that did not exist in my undergraduate days. I was there to interview for a position at their Lab school, affiliated with the School of Education.
Where do I end up lost again…yep, The Farm. Only now, it is surrounded by campus buildings, and the barn is bright red-very classic looking. I had a campus map, and the road was named “Farm Road,” at which point I found myself singing, “I’m going to take my horse down the old farm road.” Being 61 is far better than being in my early 20’s. I knew I could find my way if I just kept driving, or I would ask some of the many students walking about for help. No tears, just me singing at the top of my lungs.
I found the Lab School, still with ten minutes to spare before my interview time. Let me tell you; I was suddenly NERVOUS! My singing stopped, and I thought, “What the hell am I doing? They are going to take one look at me: long silver hair, gauzy skirt, black mock turtleneck (it was chilly), black tights, and my Capezio shoes and think, “Is she looking for the AARP Center?”
I had the most enchanting morning, spending the first two hours with young children, playing, laughing, reading, dancing, running (outside), and then the last hour, interviewing with a panel of five people. The energy and magic of being around young children swept all my nervousness away.
On my way back home, I took the Farm Road and began my singing again, but this time, I popped a CD in and played Chicago’s “Beginnings” and felt 19 again.
So cool to feel younger after, than when I started the day. Apparently that Farm and I were destined to be a part of my Beginnings.
Thank you for reading, and thank you for listening. Maybe share a time you were lost or became found.
I was 14 and knew I was going to take the world by storm! I had been a modern dancer since the age of 9 and had plans to become a famous dancer in New York City. So, one summer I “told” my parents that I wanted to go to NYC for a few weeks and take dance lessons. Age 14! But, my mom let me go (I think my dad must’ve been in the background shaking his head a resounding No!).
One morning, my mom dropped me off at the Amtrak station and to NYC I went. Mom, having lived and danced in NYC years earlier, warned me not to get into anything other that a yellow checkered taxi cab. I assured her I would remember her advice and off I went.
I “landed” at Penn Station at 34th & 8th in a very bright, sunny afternoon. I was not at all prepared for all that I was to experience. I got turned around and landed at a mountainous set of stairs that me and my 500lb suitcase were not prepared for. Well, seeing my struggle, a very kind woman offered to help me get my back up the stairs. I politely declined (I was determined to do this on my own) and she shrugged and made her way upwards.
I finally reached the top and was astonished and, quite frankly, assaulted by the cacophony of noise everywhere! People rushing by, cars honking their horns, and street vendors selling their goods. I wasn’t prepared for this at all. I proceeded to look for and hail the yellow checkered taxi cab. I finally found one after declining several “imposter” taxis and went to my hotel.
I reached my hotel room, guided by a bellhop, down a long, dark, and seemingly secluded hallway. I was terrified! The room was exceedingly small and unfriendly. I called my mom to say that I made it and sat down to think about what I’d just done. It was all so overwhelming! Then, it hit me. I am not at all prepared for this! Not yet! Now what do I do?
My mom must’ve been prepared. When I called her back in a panic, she calmly suggested that she have an old friend pick me up and take me to his family’s home in Brooklyn. And, in one swift move, he arrived, and carried me to “safety”. I went home the next day and was ever so glad to be in the warmth and safety of my home and my mom’s arms! Needless to say, I realized then that at age 14, I was not quite ready to strike out on my own.
Ironically, seven years later and with a lot more confidence, I travelled to the same place where I hailed my first taxi cab on 34th and 8th streets in NYC to start my new adventure!
Oh, how lovely, Mary - what a wonderful post! Really enjoyable read.
In answer to your question: I'm lost a LOT. Finding myself is a work in progress... 🤣