Wednesday, December 17, 2008

The Struggles of an Optimist in the Second City

Many of you probably have never heard of Robert Evans. He was a B-movie actor of the 1950s who went on to form Evan-Picone with his brother Charles and was then selected by Charles Bluhdorn, the chairman of Gulf + Western, to run Paramount Pictures in the late 1960s and into the 1970s. Under Evan's watch, the studio went from last place to first with hits such as "Rosemary's Baby," "The Godfather", "The Godfather Part II", "Love Story", "Chinatown", and "Goodbye, Columbus." His memoir, "The Kid Stays in the Picture" is an amazing and insightful read, and is filled with all sorts of great lines.

For example, Evans was personally selected by Norma Shearer, the wife of the late great Irving Thalberg, to play Thalberg in a film about the life of Lon Chaney, "The Man of a Thousand Faces." Being a neophyte, Evans loved watching the dailies, those pieces of film that had just been shot. He noticed, however, that his co-star, James Cagney (who was the star of the picture) never had any interest in watching the dailies.

Evans asked Cagney: "Mr. Cagney, I noticed that you never watch the dailies. How come?"

Cagney replied: "Kid, the dailies don't mean anything. You can shoot a great shot, but it has to cut together in order to make a great movie. Why do you think there are so many beautiful brides and so many ugly wives?"

Very sexist comment, to be sure, but one could just as easily substitute "groom" and "husband" into the equation above to make the same point. We always hope for the best and try our best to succeed, but it takes hard work to get to where we need to go. Cagney's point was simply that just because you shot a great scene does not mean the hard work is over; rather, it means that the hard work is just beginning. One has to believe, however, that the payoff is worth it.

I am surrounded by friends who are in varying stages of their law careers. Many have yet to find a job, and this sort of difficulty can be maddening when one considers that they put in so much time and money to get their degrees. The economy, the corrupt politicians of Chicago, and the lack of a credible career services office at my alma mater have a lot to do with it. One of my friends has departed to become a scuba instructor in the Bahamas. Another works at Macy's trying to make ends meet. Yet another was THE reason (yes, I believe that she was the SOLE reason) that North Carolina turned from red to blue in the last election, but even SHE has been denied a job.

I am also surrounded by friends who actually have their dream jobs, yet are unhappy with them. It is almost as if they struggled to attain the goal, climbing the mountain carefully and dodging all of the hazards-only to find that view from the top looked out onto 3 brick walls and a Denny's. To be sure, some have their dream jobs and LOVE them, but at the same time, where is their fairness when their dream jobs involve the most beneficial of public services yet does not pay them enough to pay off their education loans?

It is difficult for me to feel happy about my own situation when I know that people I care about are struggling. I am 37 and had a long "career" as a student before I finally attained my goal. I do love my job, and I am well compensated for it. However, this success did not come overnight and had MORE than its share of paycheck-to-paycheck struggles and debt. I wore the same wardrobe until the shirts and pants became tattered and frayed. I lived on a student budget for over 14 years of my adult life hoping that it would all pay off. I could tell by virtue of smell alone the type of Ramen noodles someone might be cooking. I would stock up on pasta sauce when the cheap stuff hit $1.00 a jar because I knew that that would be several meals. I could not afford to eat out at all and did not have cable TV. I had a car, but I hardly drove it because I was scared about possible repair costs. During all of those dark times, I never gave up hope. I was an optimist of the worst kind, but it paid off. Many of my friends only came to know me once I arrived at law school, but the person I am is a direct result of the struggles I experienced during graduate school in Baltimore.

I am still an optimist, but with so many friends unhappy during this holiday season, my optimism is being tested. I know that I did not want to see such things when I was a student. Such things only served as stark reminders of my own lack of accomplishments at that time.

The only thing I can do is remind my friends that they have at least a decade on me. They already have their degrees and can go back and get more degrees and STILL end up ahead of where I am at 37. The 1990s for me were one long blur of laboratory work and scientific writing. I would hate to think what would have happened if I gave up hope and just accepted my situation.

Success does not happen overnight, but when it does happen, the struggles that one has had to endure will make the experience that much sweeter. With the friends that I have, I am confident that they will find their success sooner rather than later because they are incredible people.

Tuesday, December 02, 2008

The Artful Mom

Imagine, if you will, a young woman from South India. She meets the man of her dreams at the tender age of 23 and is married to him at the tender age of 24. He is 28, quiet but respectful. He has dreams of escaping the provincial life that would be his as a mountain top physician in India. Raised on films from the West, he knows that his best chances for success would be time spent in either England or the United States as a physician. She is close to her family-extremely close, and the two families are at odds with one another soon after the wedding. She knows that if they stay in India, their marriage would be in jeopardy. Her husband hatches a plan to go to the United States to escape the family in-fighting. She acquiesces. In December, less than a month before they are to depart, she finds out that she is pregnant. She knows that her father, a powerful attorney for the Indian government, would not let her leave if he knew this. She confides in her mother, who keeps the secret.

The couple embark on their journey to the United States. The wife cries the entire flight, homesick for the only place she has ever known. Her husband tries in vain to comfort her, but he is worried as well. He only knows that they have temporary positions. He has no idea of where they will be living or what to expect. All he knows is that she is his responsibility.

On a snowy January day, the couple reach Friendship Airport in Baltimore, MD. All they have with them is a small suitcase with some clothes and clothes hangers as well as $40 between them. There is no one to meet them at the airport, so they have to call their employer to ask what to do. Slowly, they start to adapt to the culture. Every day, the couple fights and every night, she cries herself to sleep. She is only 24, pregnant, in a strange country with a man she has only known for less than 2 years. There is no family around to support her during her pregnancy and no friends for that matter. Furthermore, she is a working physician who is putting in many long hours. This is the 1960s, before maternity leave was a part of the lexicon. The women's lib movement was just gaining steam. The wife is oblivious to all of this, for all she knows is her husband, her job, the child that is growing in her belly, and the loneliness that is being in a strange place without the support system she grew up with.

Time goes on, and she gives birth to a beautiful baby boy. However, the wife (now mother) is worried. After all, she does not know who to trust with her most precious thing in the entire universe. She has found a lot of joy in her baby boy, but her job as a working physician in the 1960s does not allow her the luxury to stay at home with her son (something that would be a completely different story today). There are news stories about depraved babysitters drugging babies to keep them quiet, and she fears for her child's safety. With her only thought being the safety of her child, she makes a decision that will haunt her for the rest of her life. She bundles up her 6 week old child, the most precious thing she has, and sends him on a plane to the waiting arms of her parents. She cries for weeks, and her husband comforts her. The sadness brings them closer together, and now she has a reason to work. She wants to get to the point where she can bring him back as soon as possible. Two long years later, that finally happens.

Her heart is broken over and over as her little boy hardly knows her. With time, however, that changes. She still regrets the lost time. Imagine, in this time before video recorders, missing your child's first steps, first words, first EVERYTHING. Her heart aches when she thinks about this, and she finds the greatest joy in hugging her little boy. She and her husband still talk of moving back to India eventually. Another child arrives, and this time the wife can spend time with him. She has made a life in the US, with friends who care for her. During her pregnancy, however, her husband has to return to India, for his father is deathly ill. The husband struggles with his decision, for he knows that he should stay with his pregnant wife. However, she is not the helpless person she seemed to be when they arrived 3.5 years ago. She is stronger. She insists that he go to his father's bedside. Her boy becomes the man of the house, and she endures a summer without her husband and pregnant. He comes back in time for the birth of her second son, and the family is complete. She is strong, and she has so many friends. She is gratified to find that her older son is SO protective of his little brother (something that would continue well into adulthood).

While struggling with a new culture and so many challenges with a new marriage, she has found success in her career. The family decides to stay in the United States and becomes citizens. The wife and mother starts a solo family practice in a small town in Virginia in an area that needs primary care physicians. She runs the household, she runs her office, and she is always there for her kids whenever they need her.

The years roll by. Her husband has a successful career as a surgeon, working longer hours than she, but she takes care of everything (the household, the kids and her own career) without complaint. Her oldest boy graduates at the top of his high school class and goes on to a top college and medical school. He does his residency at yet another top school and becomes a successful specialist in Chicago. Her younger son also graduates from a top school and becomes, for a time, a career student before finding his calling as an attorney (also in Chicago). She is there every step of the way, supporting both kids with her time and advice. At the same time, her medical practice is thriving. Over the years she sees her patients, the kids of her patients, and then the grandkids of her patients. The baby wall in her office (that bulletin board of the pictures of babies she has treated in the womb and out) is overflowing with stories. Her husband retires and repays her by taking care of HER and letting her focus on her work while he cooks, cleans and takes care of the family finances.

Finally, after 32 years as a solo practitioner, she decides to retire and enjoy her remaining years in happy retirement with her soulmate. To her, he is still the quiet, respectful man she fell in love with 43 years ago. Her children are happy and successful, and that is what gives her the greatest contentment. She has lived her life for the three men in her life, and without her, the three men would have been nothing. She has been the most amazing role model, the perfect image of the independent woman combined with wife and mother. True, she still has regrets. She sees her older boy and visualizes him as the 6 week old that she sent away, and her heart aches still. She sees that her sons live far away, and she wishes that were not the case.

On the whole, however, looking at the life of this woman, I challenge anyone to say that she did not live the most amazing and fulfilling life. To this day, she is still full of life and smiles for all who cross her path, and I cannot believe my fortune sometimes in having her as my mom.

So as she prepares to retire this December, I thought it important to share her story. The story SO FAR, that is. Isn't it amazing? Isn't SHE amazing? I think so.