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What You Do After

 I just finished a thousand mile road trip. One of the things that happens When you spend the better part of your day in a car is that you hear things on the radio that you might normally have missed. While I often listen to music while driving, I mostly listen to NPR stations from city to city, state to state. It’s always fascinating to hear the differences between the larger cities versions of NPR and those national stations emanating from smaller or university towns.

So it was last weekend while driving back to Portland from the Bay Area I chanced to hear the name and then the voice of a former student of mine. It was on one of those Sunday afternoon NPR programs that deal with important subjects, but that many people miss because they aren’t in their cars at that time. The topic was AI and other recent computer consequences that our culture is bracing for. I was vaguely listening, concentrating more on passing large semi trucks and noting the distance to the next town. When I heard Lydia’s name mentioned my ears perked and then that familiar voice followed. She is an authority on computer programming and is currently a professor at Columbia University. That is not surprising to me because Lydia was probably the most intelligent student I encountered in my 34 years in the classroom. Unlike other brilliant students I’ve encountered, there was no trace of arrogance or intolerance in Lydia. She easily worked well with her classmates and readily shared her ideas. 



I’d heard that she recently married and accepted a position at Columbia, so life must be good for her. I focused on that for a few minutes because I soon recalled a conversation I had with her shortly before she graduated.  Lydia dreamed of going to the US Naval Academy. That was her fondest desire and certainly possible because she had the grades, the distortion, and the intangible qualities sought after. Shortly before her final admission, Lydia was diagnosed with some sort of heart murmur that disqualified her. She was crestfallen and upset that she had to go to MIT, her second choice. We laughed because most students would be overjoyed with acceptance to MIT.  I tried to help her see that things would be just fine wherever she went. I constantly repeated the line, “It’s not where you go, it’s what you do after you go there that counts.” It often helped soothe an injured soul. Not so Lydia. I think by now she finally has achieved what she’s dreamed of.

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