College Life at 50...it's different now

I have made friends in my class.  I guess this is sort of unusual.  Our class is small, so to me,  it doesn't seem unusual for a class of this size.  My Somalian friend tells me she has an English class of 40 students.  The class is scheduled at night.  She tells me everyone is so anxious to get out of class and bolt that there is no lingering over a cup of coffee after class or organizing of study groups.  She tells me next semester will be different.  "Wait till I have lecture classes of 150+ students."  I can see how that might be difficult for someone like me to make friends in a setting like that.  But we aren't there to make friends are we?  I might be, at least that's part of it...just saying.

My friends in my Spanish class are all very young.  Next to my Somalian friend, whom is a whopping 26 years old, and the Profesora, I am the oldest.  I find it interesting that these kids not only like me, they listen and laugh at the things I have to say.  I'm not the class clown or anything, but I do make comments here and there that poke fun at myself.  I had one classmate today, (btw: a boy)  wrongly assume that just because I am timid and slow to contribute to the classroom discussions in Spanish, that I don't know what I'm doing.  He actually told me that there was a difference in how the verbs are conjugated depending on who is doing the action of the verb...uh duh...really?  I had no problem with a comeback and getting a laugh from the others for my retort.

One of my classmates is a petite, athletic, beautiful, young lesbian.  This last piece she told us on the first day of class.  She always comes in with a story of her adventures on the lightrail that day.  She told me the other day I remind her of her girlfriend.  I'm going to take that as a compliment.  Today, she told me I was her Valentine.  I am flattered a girl that young has a crush on me.  I really like her, but she's not my type; the main reason being she is way too young for me.  And of course, a lesbian.  But she's smart, she's sweet, she likes me and I like her.  

Between class and lab, a group of us walk together and they ask me about my latest adventures in  dating.  I tell them today, that before 8 am I had four "Happy Valentine" wishes from my many admirers...they giggle and are appropriately impressed.  I think they've watched way too many episodes of "Sex in the City," because to them,  I am Samantha.  I'll take it, because what they don't realize, is how very boring my life really is on a day to day basis.  Let them believe otherwise, these kids need someone to look up to.

I  figured out I represent the "cool" mom to these kids.  I'm okay with that role.  They validate me as their peer in a very weird sense of the word "peer."  I feel accepted by them and I get excited when I realize, we are in the same "place" when it comes to our education.  We all have different plans for our futures, but we all are there for the same reason...we want to learn.  Age differences aside, we meet on the same plane of taking Spanish 101; well... except for the beautiful Hispanic girl that already speaks Spanish.  (I've still got my eye out for any mistake she might make so I can exploit and expose her.)

I find that I relate to these classmates of mine on different levels.  And maybe that is what makes college life at this age such a rich experience for me today.  Had I gone to college at 18, would I care whether I made the "Dean's List" every semester?   I'm a serious student, but I am able to take in the fun that can be had and enjoyed at whatever level I am allowed into these kid's lives.  I have no illusions of what it means to be their friend at this age.   I'm not going to be going to college fraternity parties, or pulling all-nighters because I need to cram before the exam. (Okay, I might do that if I need to, but not very often!)  And they aren't going to be asking me to go out on a Friday night with them, but I'm grateful that they find me enough of an oddity of clever humor, that they want to be my friend during my time in Spanish class.

I love the conversations I have with my Somalian friend.  I love the passion she has and her desire to make a difference in this world.  I listen to her tell me about what she sees happening in her life.  She wants what I already have done, but she wants her education and career first.  She is very family and faith oriented.  She wants a husband and family someday, but she wants someone who shares the same faith and values, as it will be an area of commonality that isn't questioned but accepted.  She wants an educated man who understands her need to give back to her culture and community of family and friends.  It is to be admired.   I understand her desire for her education, her goals for her future and her longing for someone who "gets" her and what is important to her.  I understand it, because I remember feeling that way.  I understand it now because I want it too... well most of it, minus the marriage part.  I am realistic though;  I know a huge career in translation isn't going to be in my cards at the ripe age of 54 when I graduate.  But maybe I can make a difference somewhere, teaching English or translating Spanish in a Third World country somewhere.  And the most exciting part of it all, is the knowledge that before I was immobilized by my fear to try, and now... I'm not.  I can and so...why not do?

 I have those same feelings of passion for myself when I talk to my Somalian friend.  I am excited for her as if I was going to do those same things she will be doing in her future.  I see her passion as a hope for future generations.  I encourage her and tell her how much I admire her.  I want her to stay excited and live out her dreams.  I want the exuberance of her youth to last...before life jades her; as it is sad and unfortunate that the innocence of youth can only be appreciated later, after you become cautious and careful, as only age can do that to you.  I used to envy that type of passion because I had made different choices for my life.  But I find now, that I no longer have those longing feelings of envy for what I thought I missed out on, but instead, an excitement for what lies ahead.  I am lucky I have this second chance to live out my dreams.

Someone asked me today if I had a bucket list.  Other than my degree and my goal to live in Spain for my third year of study, I don't.  I'm living out this third of my life doing the things I want to do.  I don't think about diving out of airplanes because if I really wanted to do that, I would.  Because I can.  I find that although many situations such as college, are foreign and difficult to get used to, I still forge forward, learning as I go.  Diving sometimes head first, thinking about what I'm doing only after the fact. I am feeling rather fearless these days.

Every day I have class is a day I look forward to.  I struggle in Spanish.  It's hard, but everything I ever did that was worth it, was hard.  I walked into that classroom six weeks ago, scared and knowing no one.  Today, I am a Spanglish speaking student with friends who are younger than my kid's ages.  I am popular for the first time ever.  Tomorrow I may be living in Madrid, teaching English,  pretending to be Samantha and juggling all of my Latin lovers....or...diving out of airplanes.

Going to college at 50?  It's different now and, I think, possibly better.  I didn't miss out, I just waited longer to appreciate the experience.  And the best part?  I'm there.