I hate it when listeners call in to the Diane Rehm Show. It makes me so uncomfortable. If I want to hear some bumbling, disjointed, half-baked ideas about politics, I’ll just listen to my own thoughts, thank you.
A few days ago, a caller was, amongst many uhs, explaining his point-of-view on…what? I don’t even remember—I was in a jittery sweat, just wishing it were over…when it occurred to me I could change stations. I could listen to something other than NPR. Usually, the only time my dial is not set to WUNC is during pledge drives. (During those torturous ten-day periods, I make my pledge and then burn through all my saved-up podcasts of…NPR programs.)
But this time…it was not a fundraiser…AND I COULD STILL CHANGE THE CHANNEL.
Scary.
I pressed the scan button on my radio and ended up on one of those happy, poppy stations, which was playing a bubble gum tune with lots of na-na-nas and the lyric, “Who says?” over and over again. I think the singer’s thing was, who says you’re not perfect just the way you are? Something about not being a beauty queen but beautiful anyway. In your own way. Whatever.
I just kept hearing, “Who says?”
And these were the questions that came into my head: Who says you can’t get an MFA in creative writing? Who says you can’t, for the first time in your life, incur educational debt? Who says you can’t quit teaching altogether?
Yikes.
See, ’cause my friend Cat has been nudging me to apply for a low-residency MFA program. She did, and she got in, and she’s going to do it. And I want to do it too. But I’m terrified. I’ve never taken out an education loan, never even entertained doing so for a degree that has a good chance of paying me back bupkis. Never thought about quitting teaching to do what I actually want to do, which is write.
Here there be dragons.
But who says?