I learned to appreciate skilled labor there. That back-to-school shine on a gym floor does not just appear; someone painstakingly puts it there. I learned from my father, who gave me my first summer job. He took pride in his work and was very good at it. The big bully of a scrubbing machine didn’t run away with him; He didn’t slip around in the soapy water. When he poured the thick bead of golden seal down the floor the line was straight and when he spread it with the special mop pad, there were no bubbles or blotches. He never accidentally stepped in the wet seal and then went to the bathroom leaving shiny footprints all the way there. We finished despite my help, arms aching, eyes stinging from the fumes, and stood together in the doorway to survey our work. I could see him remembering what it felt like to sink a perfect shot from a shiny gym floor.
During high school I learned perseverance there, running lines and stairs until I almost threw up on the first day of volleyball practice. Doing the cheerleaders’ dance routine to Baby I’m a Star over and over until I wasn’t terrible. I experienced unity, entrepreneurship, and risk-taking while singing the fight song with Pirates young and old, selling Jolly Ranchers, and defying death on the rolling yellow scaffolding in order to hang blue and white posters declaring “We’re #1!”
All kinds of life moments can happen in a small town high school gym, where I flirted, frantically finished homework during late games, was called beautiful by the last boy I expected it from. Where I met my husband; He was the DJ hired to play music at the Tip-Off dance and I was the Pep Club officer in charge of locking up after he finished loading out his gear. It was from a podium there that I learned how heartbreaking and exhilarating life’s transitions can be, as I gave a soft-spoken, teary-eyed Valedictorian’s address and walked out on shaking legs into the arms of my friends and the rest of my life.
And my life led me, eventually, back to my high school gym, where I attended an assembly in honor of my dad’s retirement, watched my daughter cheer, saw my son sink his first perfect shot. Where I cried with my town at the largest memorial service I have ever been to, because when someone has impacted the lives of an entire community, there’s nowhere else we’ll all fit when we come to say good-bye.
Yesterday where I was, was giving blood for the American Red Cross in my high school gym, and it’s a good place. But at the end of my day I found myself thinking about where I wasn’t, which is Morocco. Because right before bed I opened my internet homepage and my eyes settled on a headline which read something like “Peace Corps Encourages Middle-Aged Volunteers.” Clear back to the time when I was reading at basketball games, I’ve wanted to travel into the world, so I clicked on the article and then on the Peace Corps website, and then on some YouTube videos by Peace Corps volunteers, and then on some information about Morocco, and then back to the article.
The article talked about the valuable life-experiences older volunteers bring with them to their Peace Corps positions. I was filled with the possibilities! I’m older. I have life experiences. Don’t I? I guess not really. Doubt slowed the pulse of excitement and I logged off and went to bed. But as I rested my head on my arm, the tender spot beginning to turn lightly yellow and purple reminded me of giving blood. My memories mingled with thoughts of where I wasn't, images and words from the blogs of Peace Corp volunteers in Morocco.
I most likely will never join the Peace Corp; I have things yet to do right here. But if I did go, I would indeed have valuable life experiences to take with me, simply because I’ve spent time in a small-town high school gym. Where I learned how to dream, how to make every task you are given shine, how your heart can help your legs keep on running when your mind wants you to quit. I learned how to get all of the day’s assignments done even when it isn’t convenient, how to give proud support whether winning or losing. How to begin a lifelong love, how to say good-bye, how to move on, and how to stay. How to appreciate both where you are, and where you aren't. http://www.peacecorps.gov/index.cfm?shell=learn.whovol
