A Note to My Anthropology Prof

This morning, for some weird reason, I thought of a professor I had back a lonnng time ago for Anthropology. He was funny-- he was the typical Anthro prof, in some ways. Long beard, long-ish hair. He would normally wear jeans and a ratty shirt, like he'd just popped in off of a dig (not too likely in North West Florida). He used to like to use "tabooed" words in class to shock us out of caring about them. But then sometimes he'd show up in a really nice suit, with a tie and very stylishly matching and stuff. I think those were usually the days he had some committee meeting. But at least he had a clue about that aspect of life-- it is, sometimes, about how you're dressed. He liked to talk about kinship trees, and the historical Christ (I think he was writing a book about him)....

Anyway, I liked this guy, and I think (I can't be sure anymore) that I was not even in his class the semester that Andrew & I got engaged. But I told him that I was getting married and moving to Washington state, where I would continue my schooling. I was 23. He told me, flat out, "I'd advise against that."

Who tells the cute chippy 23 year old with a 1 carat rock on her hand something like that? EVEN if you think that marriage is a bad idea, unless you're her mom, or dad, or best friend, you have no business spouting off that kind of advice. Even as mom or dad or best friend, you ought to be really careful about if you say that sort of thing. As a college prof, the best thing to do is smile and say congratulations and mind your own beeswax.

His reasoning, which he did explain to me, was that young women who get married generally do not finish college. I suppose that is true for many. Lots of people do the whole "two years after getting married have children" thing. It's fairly common. So with someone who has dreams of grad school and beyond, that would make things difficult. But there are always always exceptions to any rule.

Andrew, being out of college already himself and having a good job did not ever want me to quit school. In fact, he has been more of a driving force, in some ways, than I am myself. There have been a few times on the PhD trail when I've thought "Screw it! I'll just teach high school!" (dark days, my friends.) And he (and other wonnerful people like J) have pulled me back from that ledge and said "cut it out, write the damn thing and let's get on with it."

So Dr. Anthropology professor, your little outburst was not only wrong-headed, it was WRONG. I am still working on the damned education. (And most days I'm doing a pretty good job on it). I still have no kids other than a whiney little black cat. And my husband is still pretty happy about that. He can't wait for me to be done so HE can quit his job and be Mr. Mom. (The last is kind of an exaggeration, although he'd be a great Mr. Mom).

I guess it's also a thing to remember about giving advice, in general. He probably doesn't even remember the incident, Dr. Anthropology. He probably would say something like "that sounds like something I would say." And then he'd probably congratulate me on beating the odds or something. But what you get remembered for by your students (and/or anyone who you encounter in your life) is usually something you'd rather not be remembered for. And the "HA! SEE! PROVED YOU WRONG!" vibe is not the most wished for one. So if ever a young happy excited bubbly person comes up to you, the wise and venerable elder and says "I'm getting married" and you disapprove, you will say: (repeat after me) "CONGRATULATIONS! BEST WISHES!"

You can think "Sucker" or "it'll never work" or whatever the hell you want. But keep your negativity to yourself. It'll only make you look like a doofus over time.