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| © 2009 Tonya Vander |
It seems like a lifetime ago when Chuck and I started talking about the possibility of moving to New York if I was accepted to Columbia University. It only took four separate emails to finally get up the nerve to talk to Chuck about applying, much less actually doing it. When the first couple emails landed in my inbox, I laughed and deleted them. But a few months later I received another email; at that point I was sure it was a phishing scam. I looked up Columbia separately and when the link in the email was the same as research I did, I was astonished. That’s when I decided I better talk to Chuck.
Over the fourth of July weekend, we drove through the mountains with the windows down to let in the sweet fragrance of the pine trees, we started discussing this far-fetched possibility of me attending Columbia and all the pieces of the puzzle that would need to fall into place to make this dream a reality. To be honest, it was our first weekend where we had time to meander through little rustic towns in the mountains without worrying about a test or paper that was due. Taking on sixteen credits that summer proved to be very difficult and had I not been pushing to graduate; I would have dropped a few classes, but I was determined to finish that semester. So I was hesitant to even bring up anything that pertained to school, but Chuck thought I should apply and felt excited about the opportunities that could come from getting to attend Columbia.
I should have known that he would not be the one that needed to be convinced; I couldn’t have asked for a better supporter in my life, than Chuck. His unflinching belief that I could educate our children at home, open up a photography business, and go to Africa is what propped me up every time I became overwhelmed and didn’t think I could finish what I started.
It was I who needed the convincing. My own self-doubt reared up and started asking so many difficult questions. It was one thing to go to a community college and hope to finish my bachelor’s degree at a four year college or university; but looking at an Ivy League school? Who was I kidding? So I decided to pray, sit, and wait. But I couldn’t quit thinking about what the email said, “Tell us your story…” If I did, would they get me? A homeschool mom. How would they look at my early years of school or the lack thereof? It seemed so impossible that I filed it away on a back shelf in my mind.
But who knew that it would be Chinese take-out that would finally move me to action.
