The Ides of March, 1945 – the air abounds with promises of Spring and an end to World War II. The three Fates are gathering stockpiles of shamrocks for St. Paddy’s Day. Their wind chimes ring – a new human is arriving – they spring into action. As they measure out the string of her life, two of the Sisters agree that all signs point to a career as teacher for the babe, though the third holds out for belly dancer, and, as usual, is rebuffed. And so teacher I was destined to be.
“She won’t lie still – strap her down”….strap down that tonsillectomy patient, that wriggling 4 year old kid. Shivers down my spine… – help me, I can’t breathe – I can still feel the gagging sensation in my throat, the scratchy and horrible foul-smelling ether mask pressed too close to my face… And I can still feel the wet of my pee in the hospital bed from the night before when the scolding nurse wouldn’t answer my call, and oh, yes, I can easily taste how scared and lonely I was. At least I had my Suzie doll to comfort me; the nice nurse had asked if I was going to be like Suzie, sporting a starched nurse’s outfit. “No”, I replied with pride, and fully aware of the skills I was amassing in kindergarten: “I am going to be a teacher.”
I do confess to flirting with other career options. When I was in grade 9, I got excited to be a lawyer, but my teacher said women can’t be lawyers. I didn’t know enough to question. In college, I worked for an insurance company in the summers and decided to become an actuary. The Chair of the Math Department said women can’t be actuaries. I didn’t know enough to question. I then threw caution to the proverbial winds, chose to follow my intellectual passion and went for a doctorate in Philosophy. I slipped under the radar on that one, since I soon discovered that women couldn’t be philosophers either: they certainly weren’t represented in the library or in any of my classes.
So, what was graduate school in Philosophy like? In essence, I learned how really to ask big questions like how do we know what we know….I loved it, I felt I was living on the edge, every day a new adventure. Yes, sex, drugs, and rock and roll, and a rigorous academic education. I was in graduate school in the mid-to-late 60’s, and I got involved in anti-war activities, civil rights, and the beginnings of the women’s liberation movement. Women’s liberation, you might ask…is that all the bra-burning, man-eating crazy women?
The much-vaunted bra-burning episode was a myth created by the media, though I for one happily discarded mine…how glorious to not be strapped down! But really, women’s liberation and later, the field of Women’s Studies, essentially focuses on asking questions about society’s conventional ideas about women, men, and gender rules. It asks how individuals might truly discover their uniqueness. Wow, this was a place made for me. Subsequently, I was hired in 1973 to teach in Women’s Studies at the University of South Florida, one of the first two such programs in the U.S.
So, for 37 years, I followed my passion, carved out my areas of expertise such as sexuality and women’s health, taught umpteen thousands of students, wrote articles, presented at conferences, spent a decade as an associate dean working with faculty, and saw the exponential growth of my field. It was hard work, performing a never-ending juggling act: there were always other books to read, articles to write, papers to grade, classes to prepare, and students to advise. It was also a gift beyond words: being a catalyst and inspiration for others’ life changes, learning from others’ experiences and ideas, truly a humbling experience, touched with grace.
Even in academia, I stood out as unconventional: I wore a belt made out of condoms to remind my students about safer sex; I started my classes with meditation and invited them to write poetry about the week’s topics. I provided cookies for all, literally and figuratively.
I had signed up for “early retirement” after thirty years in the system, giving me five more years which I imagined would flow leisurely on forever. But, instead, reality eclipsed my fantasy; the years flew by and next thing I knew it was time, the summer of 2008. My retirement party was huge and glorious: food, fun, festivity. I basked in the glowing words and testimony of colleagues and students. My hug dance card was full! I have heard it said that it’s a shame one can’t be present to hear the words spoken at one’s memorial service, but I had a preview and I was gratified beyond measure.
Retirement, the first time round, wasn’t easy. I felt caught in limbo, the caterpillar in the cocoon, not yet knowing the glorious butterfly who would emerge. After a few months of travelling to see friends and family and wondering what I would do next, the phone rang. “Hey, Marilyn, how’s it going?” inquires an administrator. “I have a major favour to ask of you, and, before you turn me down, please listen. Would you become Interim Chair of the department?” “I appreciate your asking me,” I replied calmly and dispassionately, “Might I have a few days to think it over?” Of course I knew even before I hung up the phone that my answer would be YES! YES, I love the department and YES, I would have something exciting to do!
Back at work – hiring, building, nurturing, schmoozing – busy days. My second act on stage – “break a leg,” they say, and I obliged. On my dutiful way to yet another meeting, I fell on a rain-slicked floor and landed with all my weight on my left knee. I touched my leg and felt an indentation – a hole – where my kneecap used to be. It was shattered – painfully and spectacularly so! The next two and a half years were a haze of two surgeries and thousands of PT exercises. While I would have preferred not to have had this experience, overall I choose to look at how I have benefitted. I have become more accepting and resilient. I feel more grounded in my body. I feel tremendous gratitude that I can walk – every step a triumph.
I retired for the second, and final, time, in the summer of 2010. Now I was ready, with a capital READY! With the invaluable collaboration of others, I had nurtured the department, and the folks who are now running it are my dream team. It’s their baby now, I am proud grandma: no responsibilities, I have moved away to Florida!
Retirement feels like graduation. I have learned so much – the ultimate words of a teacher.
Marilyn Myerson, Ph. D, Philosophy, has learned to take nothing for granted and to embrace the power of whimsy. Marilyn was the first outside hire in what is now the USF Department of Women, Gender, and Sexuality Studies, starting in 1973, when it was just one year old. She was an administrator at various departmental and deans’ levels before her retirement as Emeritus faculty in 2010. She shepherded the Human Sexual Behavior class through its many incarnations, developed the original women’s health classes, and taught feminist research methods. She is happily involved with OLLI-USF, having taken painting and writing courses. She created and frequently teaches Imaginative Writing classes and facilitates the Imaginative Crew and several other writing groups.
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