Semi Serious

It was late that night in May 2005, as I struggled to finish my work in the empty middle school classroom.  The tension in my mind and body was beginning to sap my ability to form the Individual Education Programs for some students for the next year.  I lived 30 minutes from the school, and usually worked until I was done before I left for home.  It helped me cope with the long hours to call my adult daughter and chat a bit, before resuming the work on my computer.
 This particular evening my son-in-law answered and I voiced some of my frustrations at the workload so late in the year.  He listened for a while and then said, “You should try trucking, Momma.”   His words stopped my line of thinking, because they came out of the blue.  Well, not for him, since he was a trucker.  For me the thought was so incredible I could hardly take it seriously.  Without missing a beat, he continued to talk about the possibility.  “You could do it, Momma.”  Slowly I began to pose questions for him.  I needed to know how in the world I would learn to do that?  Where would I get the training necessary?  When could I start?  How much would that training cost?  How long would it take to become good enough to get a job?  What were the job prospects?
 At the end of the conversation, he promised to get online and find the answers to my questions.  I was skeptical about this new possibility, but told him to go ahead.  I hung up and turned toward my desk, when a tremendous peace came over me.  The tension in my body was suddenly gone and my mind relaxed as I enjoyed the peace.  Suddenly a thought zipped across my mind, “Uh Oh.  I think I’m going to be driving a big rig!”  As I continued my work, this thought would pop up once in a while.  I knew the peace came from God and I was intrigued at the thought of traveling all over the country.
 My son-in-law reported that a highly recommended school was just a half hour away from my house.  The costs were reasonable and the amount of time indicated I could train in the summer and have a job by the fall.  Looking back, it’s amazing that such an outrageous career move would hold an appeal for this divorced grandmother whose two kids were out of college and on their own.  It all came down to the peace that washed over me that night.  This was God’s new door opening in my life. 
 Knowing it was His will was one thing, telling my principal I was going to suddenly resign, was another.  Shocked that I was leaving, she asked what I was going to do.  It still seemed like an extraordinary step to take, so I said “I’m not ready to talk about that right now.”  Then she shocked me by asking if I was going to seminary!  Working in a public school I didn’t talk about my faith much, but apparently it showed.  A couple of days later when I finally got up the courage to talk to her about what I was really about to do, I told her she wouldn’t believe it.  After hearing my next career, she said it didn’t surprise her. 
 “That’s the other side of you.  The adventurous side that worked in Yellowstone one summer and recently jumped out of an airplane.” 
 My family had rarely traveled when I was young.  Summers were busy on the farm and my parents felt education was important, so we only took short trips on weekends.  When I took German in high school, I learned the word wanderlust and knew I had always felt it.  So now I enjoy seeing new parts of the country and taking in the sights, sounds, people, and unique characteristics that define them.  As an adult, I embraced the wanderlust inside as often as possible without letting it get in the way of my responsibilities.  Accepting that part of who God made me, and acting on the desire for adventure in small doses throughout adulthood, undoubtedly helped me be open to such a drastic life change. 
 Within two weeks of the unexpected phone conversation with my son-in-law, I had submitted my letter of resignation and told the rest of the faculty about my decision; all without yet applying to the community college training school!  Somehow I knew this was what God wanted me to do and He would help me do it.  After the initial shock, my colleagues had many questions.  The one I couldn’t answer was, “What’s your CB handle?”  They decided to have a contest to give me suggestions.  The winner was “TNT” meaning Teacher Now Trucker. 
 As early as January 2006, I wrote in an e-mail: “I am beginning to realize this time is not about trucking and it’s not about the money.  I’m keeping an open mind.  Several people have mentioned I should write a book.  I know that is a remote possibility, but I’m willing to take notes and journal when I can.  I’m open to the idea of the book a little more, because the ideas are coming in a different way than I am used to.  Normally, I get the first couple of lines or even a whole verse of a poem before I put a pen to paper.  My poems are often nameless until completed, as if the title is secondary to the poem.  Last week the titles started coming to mind - even the title of the book:  Semi Serious.  It’s very strange and I know it’ll be a long time coming, but I’m writing them down.”
 I liked the title immediately because it had a special meaning for me.  I was serious about learning to drive a semi, even if others had their doubts.  After all, I had resigned from teaching.  I felt strongly this was what I was supposed to do and I had no job to fall back on.  For example, a woman instructor teased me about my gloves, “Char doesn’t want to break a nail.”  I was offended at her misunderstanding of who I was; a farm girl whose hands had endured countless scrapes, scratches, dirt, muck and many broken nails.  Ironically I break fewer fingernails when trucking than I did when I was teaching.  Her comment motivated me even more.  When I interviewed for my first trucking job, the recruiter knew me as the mother of his son’s friend, a former pastor’s wife and a teacher.  He was kind, but found it hard to believe I would make it as a trucker.  I mentioned having driven a tractor at age eight.  I only drove 30-40 feet forward and back to help Dad get bales in the hayloft, but it was a beginning.  I told him about working in Yellowstone one summer at age 54 including going whitewater rafting.  The clincher was that I had gone skydiving at age 56 to complete the “life list” I made in college.  He said, “You did that?” and then added, “You just might be adventurous enough to drive a truck.”