Every young child has his or her hero -- often a celebrity. That's okay...everyone needs a chance to dream. But at some point those heroes get moved to the back burner and a more realistic mentor/hero takes his or her place.
My husband's childhood hero was the Lone Ranger. I've never understood that, but of course, the Lone Ranger was a male and I'm not. Besides, the Lone Ranger was before my time. In my early years, I worshipped Peggy Fleming. Skating was one of my passions and I dreamed of the day I could do a perfect camel spin. I never got to that point, but I did finally learn to do fake figure eights. You do the first half on one foot, and the second on the other foot. Looks pretty on the ice.
By the time I reached high school, Peggy was a distant memory, and I became too realistic to imagine I'd ever be anyone but myself. During my freshman year of college, I declared myself a music major. That didn't last because the idea of spending my days practicing piano and vocal music scared the bejeebers out of me. Still, I continued taking voice lessons because I loved my voice teacher, Phyllis Ehrman (now Moser). It wasn't until later that I realized it was her constant encouragement, praise, interest in me, and wonderful sense of humor that kept me returning to her studio. She was my first true mentor. Was she my hero? Sure.
Sometime in my sophomore year, it occurred to me that my strength was writing. I'd had a passion for writing since my childhood. At the time, the obvious choice of a major was English. Thus began an intense few years of studying grammar, the English language, and literature of a wide variety -- all of which I -- gulp -- loved.
Continue reading this column at: steinermp.wordpress.com/2010/01/30/heroes-or-mentors/
