During our recent trip to Prescott, I went to my old college campus and walked around. It felt so good to be there again. I love Prescott College (PC.) I got to talk with a couple of staff while on campus (masked and ten feet apart) and got an update on the status of my undergrad college. I was happy to learn that PC was thriving. There have been new buildings erected over the years including a lovely library and student housing (I had to find my own apartment in town when I was there), supporting the growth from under two hundred students in 197 to approximately one thousand now. I was especially happy to learn that the school still does it's unique orientation. Three weeks backpacking in the wilderness, with two guides and a handful of other new students including a three day vision quest. That was a challenging but most memorable experience. Cody and I were in the same orientation group together and it was during those three weeks our decades long friendship formed. I said to Don multiple times that I would be thrilled if the girls would attend a college like PC, where most of the coursework is in the field. Where learning is not dedicated by a professor standing and lecturing but rather from student participation in designing curriculum, assigning ways to demonstrate their knowledge and keeping a portfolio of each course to document their learning. Both my kids are bit rebellious like their parents and a non-traditional college like PC would suit them both.
However the thing that stood out most when visiting the campus was a deep sense of sadness when I drove away. It was deep and strong and thick, the sadness constricting on my heart. I took some deep breaths in my belly and let the feelings arise. It was then that I realized that not only PC allow me to learn in the way that best served who I was (not some boxed formula like at state schools) but the community also felt like home. I grew up in a place where I never really fit in. I found myself going to Dead Shows at the age of 15. I was marching in D.C., against Apartheid and for women's rights while still in high school. While most of my peers were concerned about hair, makeup, the object of their sexual desire, I was a new vegetarian, looking at ways to fight the system or hanging out in woods getting high, until I suddenly got clean and sober.
I never belonged and never fit in in my hometown. My parents did not take us camping or hiking. My spirituality was limited to the Jewish faith. I hated shopping and getting my nails done felt like that would be torture. When I landed in Prescott, to study and live, I found a place where people loved the earth, fought for social justice and cared about wholistic living. I embrace both Eastern and Native spirituality. With peers who I resonated with, we rode mountain bikes and made sour dough bread. I felt like I had finally found a place I belonged. I was no longer the odd, black sheep. I had found a place where I would eventually meet my tribe and one day in the future, PC would be part of getting me to California, where I would eventually attend graduate school, meet Don and finally, my life long desire to be a mom would manifest into reality,
I never realized the full impact moving to Prescott for college had on me until that day I drove out of the parking lot thirty three years after I first arrived. These realizations led to later conversations with the girls about living a life that was authentic and in a place that matched the values of your heart and soul. I talked with Amara and Havana about never settling, about always following and living your truth. That visit to my old campus turned out to be so much more than a nostalgic visit. It seemed like decades later PC was still teaching me most valuable lessons.
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