What Do I Have in Common with a Six-Year-Old?

The short answer is, more than I care to admit. Read on for the long answer.

The personal aspirations of the young captured my attention; a day later, I’m still musing over them. You get the requisite doctor/nurse replies, those who want to help (although one girl said she wanted to give shots–yikes!). Several pre-k’s mentioned teaching, which is totally expected as Suncreek boasts some sensational teachers. Who wouldn’t like to replicate their influence, their smiles, and infectious energy? Every teacher Rubes had was worth her weight in gold.

One little boy said he just wants to watch YouTube for his career because that’s what he does now. Another said he wants to be a policeman so he can give tickets and arrest people. Watch out for that guy in the future. (A kid like that in my elementary school, he squeals on us, and he gets a playground beatdown, maybe a pink belly.) A few said they want to work with animals, though one little guy just wants to work with cats. As far as I’m concerned, he can have all the cats in the world. Not a single kid said he or she wanted to be a an athlete/actor/entertainer or any kind. Not one. There was one astronaut, just one out of more than twenty kids.

Rubes said she wants to be an animal doctor. This is not news at all, not to anyone who knows her. She is not only an animal fanatic, she’s wicked smart about animals. Last year she corrected an employee at the Dallas Zoo when the guy misspoke about an African elephant. Pretty sure that guy found another job. Rubes watches animal documentaries and nature shows, examines picture books, talks about animals all the time. Her lastest favorite is the Kung Fu Panda series of movies. She’s hoping for lots of rain today, so the worms and snails will come out. Last week, she was able to witness a crow consuming a dead rat across the street. That was a good day.

She wants to work with animals, and I’m not talking the common ones. She wants the exotic ones. She’s conversant on gila monsters and gorillas, narwhals and orcas, pythons and pandas, Bengal tigers, snow leopards and spider monkeys. (Yes, I know, I mixed my animals, mammals, and reptiles. Ruby corrects me all the time. “Actually, Pagwa, dolphins are mammals, not fish.”) Now, maybe Rubes pursues exotic animal care in some form or fashion or maybe not. But she is dead-set on it right now in her six-year-old brain.

All this got me thinking about what I wanted to be when I was a young ‘un. What I NEVER considered was becoming a teacher. The nuns at St. Anthony’s were like aliens from Pluto (back when it was a planet). That was not a habit I wanted to take up. In high school, I devoted immense energy to avoid attention. True statement: in four years at Atwater High, I never once raised my hand to volunteer an answer or ask a question. Not once. I had ideas but not the voice. I would have confidently wagered a tidy sum against teaching as a career. The greatest parlay in history would have been a bet pairing teaching with Debate coach as my vocations. Ha! I scoff in your face.

When the senior superlatives were announced my last year of high school, I did not win “Shyest Senior Boy.” But I was friends with Robert who did win the award, if you can call it that. Later, he sidled up to me and said, “Mike, should have won this, not me. But no one knows you.” He wasn’t trying to be ironic or clever.

I have no idea what I thought I’d be when I was a kid. Maybe a baseball player? I recall briefly considering architect and forest ranger, but nothing ever really lit me up. My dad wanted me to follow his steps into the military. No thanks. Mostly, I knew what I didn’t like–math and science and business. That ruled out about half the universe. I backed into teaching/coaching, and it was the happiest accident of my life.

Yesterday, I watched a few dozen little people march the aisle, their heads full of fanciful dreams based on their six years of life. It was lovely, like the bloom of a dewy red rose. Their dreams remind me to dream. I’m a mere sixty-four. Not young, but not done. In the past six years (the time those little folks came into this world), I’ve added Writer to my resume. I’ve published two books (and more to come) and write this blog. I also started teaching at the college level.

Maybe the most important takeaway from all this is not to determine exactly I need to do next or what dreams I need to pursue. The key is that I’m still dreaming, still open, still moving. Me and Rubes and her friends.

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