The Tact of a Buffalo

Kids can be so perceptive. I only have bits and pieces of memory about being a kid, but I hope, if I were to go back in time and meet myself, that  I could say the same about myself.

I have recently been doing a lot of work with grade 6 kids, building snow shelters out in Kananaskis. Fortunately, as I am not the kind to be very happy to sleep in a snow cave, we have had access to a hostel, which has also meant living in close proximity them. With the sleep pattern of someone who is allergic to REM cycles, I spend a lot of time awake. Sometime I write, other times I play guitar, or simply lay in the dark with my eyes open.

On one these trips, I ended up being awake quite a lot, and instead of tossing and turning, I went to the living room to quietly play guitar. While softly strumming "A Cold Night Close to the End" by Said the Whale, I heard foot steps coming out of one of the dorms. Hair in a thousand directions, rubbing her eyes came one of the students. She stumbled over to me and, with the voice of someone who had also been awake for a bit, asked for a glass of water.

Standing in the kitchen, she sipped away on the coffee mug of water. Part way through, however, she stopped and looked me dead in the eyes.

"You look like you hurt." 

A little taken aback, I stumbled through some sentences about having been working a lot recently, and skiing a fair bit without any rest.

"No, you look like your heart hurts, like you're sad" She said.

I had nothing to say. No words came to my mouth, no explanation, just silence.

She finished her glass of water, looks at the empty cup and says;

"I don't want you to hurt."

She gave me a quick hug and then shuffled back off to bed.

If you've ever been depressed, you will understand that, sometimes, you didn't even know you were depressed in the first place. For me, I tend to slip quietly into and out of it, keeping myself safe behind smiles and walls.

I sat in the living room and cried. It felt good - it felt like it had been waiting behind a dam for a while, and all it had taken was one small crack to release the torrent. It was sad crying, but it was good.

In that room, I sat and thought about when I had started feeling this way. Could it have been the increased drama in my family? Perhaps a little, but that sort of thing was ongoing. Was it that my long distance relationship has finally started to show it's faults? That's a part of it, but not the first drop in the pale.

Was it that I felt I was going nowhere?

Recently, I had been taken aside at work. With everything I do being contract work, I have multiple bosses. Fortunately, most of them work at one place. Unfortunately, most of them work at one place. The conversation had started off with small talk, then progressed to my work which brought up my desire to progress. My intense want to see the program I hold most dear flourish and grow. To take a part of it that was just stumbling by in the shadow of the others. My desire to make my dream a reality.

And the fact that this would never happen.

Put in more delicate words, I was asked to watch where I step, as there were toes under my feet. Instead of utilize the energy, effort and willingness I had to offer, I was told to put it under those toes and leave it there.

I come from a family where standards are high. Achievement is a must, and failure is not acceptable. But with these expectations also came opportunity. Drive was rewarded, success opened doors, initiative was fostered. To have my high standards taken, interpreted, and then shut down had not only broken my smile, but my heart.

After the week trip with the grade 6's had finished, I went home and started to focus on getting myself out of this funk. Though things at work were stuck, things outside of work had started to materialize.

I decided that it was time to start looking into going back to school. Working with kids and teaching all the time, it felt right to consider going back for education. I had known many people in my degree who had had issues with getting into other institutions, but I knew it was possible. The idea grew and took hold. I wanted to become a teacher.

I had shared this thought with my dad, enthusiasm in my voice, and my heart starting to gain momentum. I think that's why his reaction and lack of tact felt like a mountain biker who's handle bars had clipped a tree.

"Don't waste your time on teaching. Work in oil, make money."

I don't get angry. I scare myself when I'm angry, and so I never let myself get there. Except for this time.

I couldn't believe it. Someone who had instilled my desire to achieve bold goals, knew my passion for education and had facilitated me getting an environmental based degree had just coughed on everything I stand for, and wiped his nose with recently rekindled desire for betterment.

A few weeks prior, I had run into someone who had done a lot of work with my degree, and had recently 'retired', though he is still active in the community. I had told him about my situation, perhaps even without knowing I had. I also Or maybe he had been able to see what this little girl had seen. He told me, very plainly, to email him.

After the outrage my father had caused, I sat at home looking at my email, trying to find the words to ask for help from my contact. The wine didn't help. Neither did the anger. But a few days later, I was able to tap out my story to this influence, and not an hour after pressing send, we set up a date to meet.

After I gave a lecture to an outdoor pursuits class, we met in the noisy hall of the university. We were only there for 45 minutes, but in that time, everything changed.

He didn't just set me up with contacts, but told me everything he could remember about me from when I was in university. That drive for more, that desire to achieve, but even more the passion it takes to work with kids. Not just to work with kids, but to teach. To have someone notice these things filled me with courage and hope.

Hope is not a plan. But hope can be a beginning.

He had put me in touch with another influence, who was now running my former degree program. The program was shifting its focus away from business and on to education. On the cusp of being approved, this seemed too good to be true.

Today, I met with this director. Handshakes, catching up, then down to business. He described the changes to the program - the shift from being "Applied" to being a full Bachelors. The upgrading would take only a year, and I could use that as my stepping stone. It was amazing, these changes - someone had thought long and hard on the potential of this industry, as well as the demands. Just before we parted company, there was someone I needed to meet. Someone who could help point me in the right direction.

We found her in her office. It was explained that she was the new adviser in the faculty, responsible for all the students and where they were headed, but could take a look to see what I already had and what more would be needed to get me on my way. We asked her if this could work.

When I imagine a buffalo, I see a large, powerful creature, standing in a field. More majestic than a cow, but with that same blank stare. I imagine a situation in which a buffalo had to tell someone something important. I can imagine it thinking in its head, with its buffalo thoughts, every factor of the situation as best it knew.

But because it is a buffalo, all it can do is keep it's blank stare and say "No".

That is what happened today. I could see the gears ticking, but the only thing she could say in her flat, quick tone was "No". The chances for me in this program were non existent. She also told me it would be a stretch to get me into an education program with what I presently have.

I took a deep breath, and did what I do best - Walls and smile. But this time, my walls had a door. Open, me on one side, her on the other. 

I asked as many questions as I could, from every angle until finally, a breakthrough. Finally, the answer wasn't just no. Finally, a path started to form.

There is still potential  in my situation. Even if it takes a while, and maybe talking to a few more buffalo, I have my goal, and a direction. Hell, I even have supporters. For the first time in a long time, though met with some resistance, I'm starting to be able to pull myself out of this mud. Though my heart is not fully mended, it is on its way to being full again.

Watch out, Buffalo. I'm hungry, and I'm craving success.