"Get a Job"...Career Choices - My Own Kind of Swan

Connie Gotsch is the author of two award-winning full-length novels, SNAP ME A FUTURE and A MOUTH FULL OF SHELL, published by DLSIJpress.com.  She writes reviews for Midwest Reviews, www.book-review.com, Epinion, banyanpublishing.com, and Authorsden.com.  As program director for public radion Station KSJE, Farmington, New Mexico, she hosts a book show called Write On Four Corners.  Her web site is www.authorsden.com/conniegotsch

My Own Kind of Swan

When I’m four, I tell my mother,
”I’ll drive a train when I grew up.”

She bends her willowy frame,
her most important asset,
and chucks me under the chin.

When I’m seven I announce,
”I’ll be a vet’narian.”

She smiles the smile with the smirk on the edge--
the one she uses when she thinks I’m cute--
and frivolous--
as her mother said a successful girl must be.

So I ask my Dad, when he comes home--
the Dad, whose mother kept the church books,
and taught four sons to help with chores--
I ask him, “Can I be a vet?”

”Of course,” he says. And that is that.

At 12, my mother tells me,
”H-O sets are for boys.
You need to go to charm school,
because soon, you’ll want a date.”

Charm rolls off my stocky hips.
Boys say I’d be fun to rape.

Mother laughs--
”They’re only bragging.”

I ignore them,
Get straight A’s.

Mother shrugs,
”You’re smart.
Too smart.”

Age eighteen:

Packed off to college--
oak-lined campus--
liberal arts.
A place my mother would have gone,
had she had the choice
to do.

At nineteen,
The Time of Steinem.
arts and letters
OUT! GOOD-BYE!

Away from the woods,
like a bat outta Hell.
New York City’s
the place to be.

My hair gone straight,
I study broadcast.

Mother moans.
”A woman on TV?”

Father says, “If it makes you happy.”

At twenty-two, I finish college.

"What would you like for graduation?”

”Speakers. Mother,
for my stereo.”

”We’ll buy them when you get a job.”

Twenty-three, crisscrossing country.
Radio stations, not TV.
News, announcing,
selling ads.
Probationary contracts, three months each.
Then good-bye.

Cheaper to hire someone new,
than to raise my salary.

Twenty-four,
Broke. Back home.

Graduate school.
Straight A1s again.

Speakers maybe, at end of term--

Dismissed from college
by the Dean.

”Too aggressive for a woman...”

Lawyer sighing very loud.
”You’ll never prove
he said all that.”

Cancerous mother. Drunk and bitter.
Model’s body shot to Hell.
Starved mind ranting,
shouting curses.

”I told you so. I told you so.”

”You’ll always be a failure
living with your father.
Forget your speakers.
Just use his.”

Twenty-five,
She dies one night.
I’m not sure I really care.

Twenty-seven....
School again.
Grasping hard at second chance.

Dad appears,
with two large boxes.
Stereo speakers
gracing room.

I cry and cry.
He holds me tight.

Four years later, Ph.D.

Thirties, Forties--
Build career.

Hear those speakers
in times tough.
Gather strength
from music soaring.
Sing along,
when times are good.

Good times happening more and more.
Experience equals office savvy;
better performance
better pay--

Now at age of fifty-six,
ugly, fat,
still scorned by men,

ABSOLUTELY UNCONCERNED!

Can’t lose looks
I never had.

Can’t land in gutter
turned face down--
tossed away
for someone young.

Writer!
Traveler!
Morning Host!

Public Radio, KSJE!
Speakers blasting
Ode to Joy!
Adventure waiting
now FOR ME.