As I make the move from working to not working, from “career person” to “retiree,” I find myself spending a fair amount of time reflecting on the path that my career has taken and the jobs that taught me important lessons. In hindsight, even those jobs I may have thought of as big mistakes, ones I did not particularly enjoy, end up being part of the journey and crucial to who I am now and how I work. As I planned for retirement, the simple thought that suggested to me it was time was “I have been working since I’m fifteen. I want to try another type of life.” And I am looking forward to that. But this motivation is not in any way a rebuke of my life so far. My work, sometimes hard, sometimes tedious, was much more often exhilarating and rewarding. How lucky am I?
My first jobs out of college were supporting people with disabilities who had spent decades at institutions for people with developmental disabilities who were now living in homes and apartments. The individuals I supported were some of my earliest and best teachers. From them I learned about forgiveness and grace, and the healing power of community and inclusion. I also got to meet and learn from some of the seminal thinkers on supporting people with intellectual disability to live meaningful lives in the community early in my career. Attending the McGill Summer Institute in the summer of 1993 and learning from John O’Brien, Marsha Forest, Jack Pierpoint, Judith Snow, Herb Lovett and John McKnight was a foundational experience that shaped my thinking from that point on. Later, I had the good fortune to work regularly with people who were passionate about inclusion, belonging and community who continued to remind me that full inclusion was the path to community and a good life, and that it was what my work should be about.
For the past 17 years, in my work with Think College, it has been students pursuing a college education, and their parents, who have been my teachers. From them I learned the power of listening and meeting people where they are when you are attempting to support their vision for their own lives. It is the same for the dedicated professionals for whom I provided technical assistance; they taught me to listen without judgement so I could learn what they understood and what was confusing as they tried to meet the goals and vision for their work. I tried to provide guidance and information that led them towards practices that supported inclusion and belonging and community. My work, on its best days, helped people to know that real, full inclusion was both the ultimate goal and the ultimate tool.
While hard for me to say, I am proud of the times people told me that I made a difference in their lives. I am proud of the tools I helped create and can leave behind for others to use and improve upon. I have loved being part of building the Think College website into the rich and friendly resource it is today—particularly the College Search Directory and the online course on program accreditation. I have always been a practical type of person. John O’Brien referred to a tool he created, the PATH person-centered planning process, as a “basket to put your values in.” I have always loved that idea: that creating the right tools, the right “baskets,” to hold our values and intentions can provide a concrete way to put them into action. I hope some of the tools I created can do that.
There are many emotions associated with big life changes—excitement, anxiety, anticipation, apprehension, nostalgia. I have felt all these in the past few months, swinging from one to another, sometimes at a dizzying rate. But through it all, there has been one feeling consistently anchoring me: gratitude. Perhaps it is not a coincidence that I am retiring at the start of Thanksgiving week. I am so grateful for the work I have been privileged to do, and for the people I was able to do it with. My work at Think College will continue in the capable hands of Meg, Clare, Danie, Rebecca, Chelsea, Caitlyn, Susanna, Olivia, Sheila, Matt, Belkis, Pam, Mindy, Caroline B, Caroline J, and Oge who will continue to further strengthen and enhance inclusive postsecondary education. And of course, there are the hands, hearts, and minds of the dedicated professionals in the field of inclusive postsecondary education across the country who work every day to create more inclusive campuses and a more inclusive world. I cannot wait to see what all of you will do next!
On a personal note, I also want to express gratitude for my funny, loving, sarcastic, supportive family. One key piece of the “different kind of life” I am imagining is to have more time to spend with them. To my children and grandchildren, nieces and nephews, sisters and brothers—be warned. I am coming for you! To my husband, Jeff—such gratitude for your support and encouragement, for always making me laugh, and for being my reliable shelter from the storm. They ease my “what’s next” anxiety because I know whatever it is, it includes them.
So, these are my reflections on career, service and gratitude this Thanksgiving week. Know that I am thanking my lucky stars, as my mom would say, that I got to be a small part of this work that means so much to so many.