I grew up on the prairies of Marshall, Minnesota and attended a local college, living at home to save money. But half-way through school my parents sold the house and moved to Florida, leaving me in the cold, literally.
Don’t feel sorry for me. I never did. They invited me along to Florida but I declined.
I stayed in Marshall and gutted it out. I never thought about it too hard. I never wondered if I had the fortitude or the finances to make it on my own. I was 21 years old at the time.
I found my own apartment, did my own banking, paid my bills, took a job waiting tables . . . Mom and Dad weren’t wiring money to my account, which had slipped down to about $100 at one point.
I never got depressed or contemplated suicide. I was in college and doing fine, “procrastinator-personality” though I was. And at age 23, as a senior, I decided all on my own to move into the dorms for the very first time, take a Muslim roommate, eat campus food, and pay my tuition from wages and tips earned at “Country Kitchen” restaurant, finally graduating with a 3.1 GPA.
My parents came north for my graduation but that was about it. They didn’t buy me a new car or send me to Paris to celebrate. I expected no such presents anyway. I was on good terms with them . . . but I was an adult. Parental oversight of my ways and means not necessary, nor was it offered.
Yes, times have changed since then. People frequently ask me, “How are college students different these days than in the past?” I’ll share about that in my next post.