Writing a new story

We all have stories - ways that we weave together the different parts of our lives into some kind of a coherent narrative. Sometimes these are stories that we just tell ourselves, sometimes we share those stories with others, and sometimes those stories become official "biographies" that we post on our web sites or give out as press releases. However we use them, the stories we tell about ourselves help us make sense of the circumstances and events of our lives.

I know one story that I've told about myself for years is that I have no talent for science or math. My last science class was Biology my sophomore year of high school. I remember it being an absolutely miserable experience and somehow I managed to talk my way out of having ever to take chemistry and physics. However did they let me graduate??? I decided not to take calculus in high school because I knew it would wreak havoc with my GPA. I played it safe with whatever "senior math" was instead.

This was long enough ago that no one talked about learning differences, or different ways to present material, or right brain/left brain stuff. I just made up my mind that I couldn't do science and math, and that didn't bother me much. In those days I was still destined for the stage - and didn't want to waste my time with lab reports and problem sets when I could be rehearsing a show. But over the years, I found that science never quite seemed to go away. Childhood interests in astronomy and earth science could still be piqued by a good popular book like those by John McPhee. I dragged the kids to meteor showers, loved natural history museums and every so often, wondered whether I might have gone to medical school. But mostly I kept telling myself the story that I didn't have any talent for science and math.

I have been bitterly reminded this summer of just how brief our lives are and that we must not put things off. So I went down to CCRI in August and registered for Biology 1001. It was partly an exploration, partly to see if I could prove something to myself, and partly wondering what other vocational ideas God might have for me. I didn't tell anyone about it until after I'd had a few classes because I was afraid I might flame out and have to drop the class. But I find that I love it, that I'm perfectly capable of doing the work, that whatever I ultimately do, just learning something about how life is organized is fascinating and useful.

Here's where the story changes. I've reconnected with one of my high school friends. Peggy was one of the smartest girls in the school (my parents kept telling me that I ought to be more like Peggy - she was also a hard worker which I was not so much) and she was especially good at math. I'd always assumed that she was also good at science, too. But when she found out that I was taking bio, she mentioned that our high school teacher had ruined it for her forever (best comment: "(the teacher) looked like a praying mantis only less interesting.")

And all of a sudden I realized that maybe my story needed to be rewritten. Maybe the issue wasn't that I was bad at science, but that I hadn't had a good teacher. Maybe if I'd had a science teacher as enthusiastic and gifted as my history and english teachers were, I would have tried chemistry and maybe I would have thought about medicine and not given up so quickly on myself. It's hard to tell - because I really was focused on show business in those days and nothing else could capture my attention - but it's really liberating, all these years later, to think that maybe the problem was at least partly due to poor instruction. Maybe the problem was just as much the teacher as the student.

Now I'm wondering what other stories can be written - what things I've told myself that just aren't true. I'm wondering what other possibilities are out there.