I think that it irritates my offspring when I say that raising them has been my greatest joy and my magnum opus. They want me to be proud of my professing (I am) or my research (ditto). I am proud of that work. I believe I have helped others to become better writers and more analytical thinkers. I began teaching in 1987. I still think of the work as significant. It still gives me joy. It is not, however, more important than my children.
While we were in L.A., Elizabeth took the day off from work to see me and serve as our guide. Al had never been to the beach and the others wanted to go. Elizabeth chose Venice Beach as a youthful, avant-garde culture we would enjoy. From the kiosks to the pale sand and the clear light, the morning was a success topped off by a patio lunch at the Ale House Pub and Grill. Hollywood in the afternoon marked us as the tourists we suddenly were.
Just listening and watching as Elizabeth interacted with the cadets was enough to provide me with a “daughter-fix.” The fact that she and I got a little time to speak with one another was a bonus. She’s thinking of moving to Austin. She’s actively thinking about what next, about what career might serve as a good match for her gifts and abilities. Without insulting her, she reminds me of myself at her age. I wasn’t sure, beyond mothering Alastair, what or even if I possessed gifts that might contribute anything to anyone else. I wonder whether she will have the discipline and develop the tough skin to accept the role of professional writer. She has the gift.
I’m glad I accepted the gift of teaching. I say “accepted” because I was raised in an extended family in which three professions dominate to the point of boredom. Three great aunts, Aunt Mary, Aunt Martha, and Aunt Itasca, did their graduate work in English at Columbia University in 1909, 1910 and 1911. English professors . . . Their brothers were lawyers and doctors. All were writers. My sister works in the ER at a hospital in Fort Worth; one of my cousins is a lawyer in Vancouver, another cousin a professor in D.C. My son’s decision to go to law school was no surprise, but had he determined to do or be something else I would have been happy as long as he was.
Like Alastair, Elizabeth has multiple interests, but of all the writing members of the family, Elizabeth’s gift seems most apparent. Having just visited the National Steinbeck Center and heard that Steinbeck was supported by his family well into his thirties, I am reminded again how much art requires a community of support to establish itself. Family, community, state and nation must support art—must nourish and develop the voices of the next generation.
~ Margaret Downs-Gamble
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