The Things You Think You Want

George Gershwin is my favorite songwriter. His mother Rose wanted him to be an accountant, but at sixteen, he dropped out of school to play music. “How wrong can a mother be?” she said.

At five, I was asked, “What do you want to be when you grow up?” A shy child, I looked to my mother. “I’m a nurse. It’s a good job.” So I answered, “Nurse.”

At eleven, I wanted to be an Olympic track star. I ran faster than all the boys, but in 1962, my school had no girls track team. I switched to years of cheerleading and loved it, but I didn’t make the varsity team. That night I cried, my dream shattered.

The next day at musical try-outs, the drama teacher made an announcement. “Is there anyone here who plays a sport? Any cheerleaders? You can all leave now.” My cheering loss led to leads in the musicals and a chance to sing the National Anthem with the band at a football game. Way better.

On Thursday, my ten year old piano student Sarah said, “I have to tell you a two minute story. I didn’t make the A team for soccer. I’m on the B team.” I told her I thought she didn’t really want to grow up and play soccer for a living, and it might have opened a spot for someone who did. She admitted she loved acting and singing, but only a little more than soccer.

We all have a list of what we think we want. It’s a fluid list, so the best thing is to stay fluid in our desires. “Take what comes,” my grandma used to say. Or as I say, “Take it easy…or any way you can get it.”