Journey to Person-hood : Leaving Madison

In 1999, I left Madison, WI, after living there for nearly 10 years in my 20s.

That last week, I attended a lecture with Harold Scheub, The African Storyteller. (He's a frequent guest on Jean Feraca's radio show, Here on Earth : Radio without Borders.) My undergraduate degree was in African Literature and Languages, so I had a particular appreciation for this subject matter, and this particular speaker.

So I got there and sat down. CL was there, too. I sat down, and saw at the front of the room, AS, wicked witch of my undergraduate years. She had been my Yoruba teacher for 2-1/2 years and my adviser for 3 years. I was an A-student except for her classes. She apparently thought I was an moron because I couldn't pick up this language that had absolutely no links to American English. (It'd be like learning Chinese to an American's ears.) She was hard on me in those years--a tormentor. I just tried to muddle through and keep my head down until I could graduate, and be out of her clutches.

This story requires more set-up, so bear with me ... I was accepted into Library School immediately after graduation, but I decided to defer until a later time. I had such a hard time as an undergraduate with my advisor/mentor, that I wanted to re-group and learn to stand up for myself before I embarked on Library School. So I waited 3 years, worked as a clerk in a bank, got my head together, and re-built my self-esteem. I decided to re-apply to Library School in January 1996, and was again accepted without a problem. I was ready. In March, the bank decided to down-size, and my job got the ax. It was probably the best thing that ever happened to me. In July, I got a job working in a hospital library, much more interesting work, making twice as much money as the bank clerk job, in half as much time. And I was learning practical things that applied to my Master's Degree.

Library School started in the fall, and was a totally different experience. It was good--fun. I'd do it all over again. One of my Library School Professors, Anne Lundin, became a good friend. I loved her creative writing assisngments, and her Storytelling class (which counted towards the required (and dreaded) public speaking requirement).

So that last week in Madison, I attended this Harold Scheub-African Storyteller lecture ... and AS is there at the front table. I remember thinking with racing heart, "What do I do? Do I run out the door? ... I hope she doesn't recognize me. I hope she doesn't recognize me. Of all people I wanted to leave behind in Madison, it was her ..." I don't think I heard a single word that Prof. Scheub said in that lecture, though I'm sure it was inspiring--bigger than life--as his lectures always were.

Soon after the lecture began, I noticed Anne Lundin was also there. (She also had a great appreciation for story, remember.) In the Storytelling class one day she had said this :

"Whenever you're in a tough place,
think of yourself as the heroine in a fairy tale.
You'll be journeying through the forest alone.
And there'll be people there to help you along the way,
and who will give you encouragement.
And you'll discover treasures you never knew were there.
This is a precious time."

I have always remembered her saying this, and at that moment, I thought : I can handle this. CL is here at my side; Anne Lundin is here; I'm not the same doormat I was as an undergrad. I had come a long way in those 5-6 years since AS. Even though my legs were shaking at the end of the lecture, my heart was racing, I went up and spoke with Anne. AS was nearby, and fortunately, she did not recognize me anymore--at least she didn't act like she did. And I thought, "That's fine with me. I don't need to waste my time with people who treated me like dirt." I didn't say anything to her either. Story was (and still is) something I am passionate about. Anne Lundin knew me as a good student, knew me as a person, and knew I was already a good Librarian. I didn't have to speak Yoruba to do it.

Going to that last lecture, my last week in Madison, seeing those certain important people in my life come together in the same space at the same time--was the culmination of my 10 years in Madison. Had I learned what I'd gone there to learn? I don't mean academics and degrees. This was the ultimate test in Person-hood. And I felt like I passed. I had finally graduated! I had stood up for myself with grace and poise--thanks to a little help from my friends.

Looking back on that experience, it felt very Wizard of Oz-like. I was seeing my arch-nemesis for a final show-down. There she was : AS, the Wicked Witch of West Africa and Anne Lundin, the Good Witch of Graduate School there to help and support me. CL, as the Lion, Scarecrow, and Tin Man all rolled into one. I guess Harold Scheub was the Wizard.

It was a precious time.