What’s Your WHY?

Why do you do what you do?

What is your “why”?

Often, when folks are asked why they chose a select field of work or vocation, they share an eventful connection. It is a recollection of a time passed, where the individual was influenced to move in a certain direction of study and practice. That influence can be a negative influence—pushed by pain or angst. More often than not, it is a positive influence where a young child may say, “I want to be like that, when I grow up.” There are those parental influencers or mentor influencers, where you are told what you will—or, are supposed to be. I would see this with my students, during conferences. The parents were in full support and would sometimes ay, “I told him, you cannot be a lawyer (nurse, doctor, teacher, and etcetera) with these grades. You have to do better.” I would see the student’s face cringe. Later, the student would tell me that he or she did not want to be a lawyer—or, a nurse, or doctor. I understand and empathize with the parents, but never liked those conferences.

I love stories where, nurses and doctors tell you that they became a nurse or doctor, to heal others. Typically, someone in their past was saved by a medical caregiver, and they were in awe and thankful. Or, they experienced a loss of someone through an illness. They vowed to help in that area, as an ongoing tribute.

Teachers become teachers because of the great teachers and others, who helped them change their life trajectory; or, because of educators and others who may have made them feel inadequate. ...incapable. There were folks who told them that they wouldn't be "much".

In essence, we are all where we are "because of" or "in spite of" our past experiences.

I became an educator and a writer because of my "Annie", my grandmother, who accomplished so much with a limited education. She taught herself to read with word-search puzzles--from the newspaper and puzzle books. I would do them with her, sometimes, not realizing she was helping me learn to read and write. I am sure it never dawned on her that she had such an impact on my early reading and writing skills, either: My Annie never saw herself as "learn-ed". Still, she would often practice her cursive writing on her days off, from working long hours. My Annie moved from writing an "X" as the signature for her name: "Maggie R. Bullard", to beautiful, flowing curves in cursive. I know this, because I would watch her sign her "Dade Savings and Loans" checks. Yes, she maintained a meticulous bank account.

Before she passed, My Annie let me know how proud she was of me--the "teacher" me. I realized that I never told her how proud I was of her. If I ever do anything of greatness in this life, it will be to tell her story--the story of Margueritte Rachel Bullard. I will share a piece of Margueritte's story, in a great way. THIS--this is why I write.