A box arrived in the mail.
I opened it and took out the drafting supplies, the measuring instruments, and the spiral-bound instruction book. The pages were gray and grainy, as if each one had been copied from a copy of a copy.
I opened the first module.
An architect’s scale. Six sides. 1/4”, 1/8”, 3/16”, …
I yawned.
The next module was about lettering. Architects had to letter their drawings perfectly. Practice the letter A. Now B.
I looked at the page.
My parents had paid for half the course. I’d paid for the other half. The materials were here. The instructions were here. There was nothing else to wait for.
I put the book down.
The next time I opened it, I worked for a little while. The time after that, too. Maybe twenty minutes a week. I’d get the book out, work through a few exercises, and put it away.
My parents asked how the course was going.
“Good.”
“How far are you?”
“I’m working on it.”
I was still in the first module.
Eventually, I stopped opening the book. The progress deadlines passed. Then the school dropped me from the program.
The box of tools was still there.
~
A few years later, I sat in an Introduction to Architecture class. I’d signed up for Beginning Guitar, too. Guitar because I wanted to be cool. Architecture because I wanted to try again.
This time there were people in the room. We looked at drawings. We talked about buildings, how they were put together, how they worked. I liked it. I found myself paying attention.
After class, my teacher talked about careers in architecture. Too many students, she said. Too few jobs. Excellent grades. An expensive school.
Then she brought up construction management.
More jobs. Better starting pay. A cheaper degree.
That sounded better.
I could do that.
Then she mentioned the prerequisite.
Calculus.
I had no idea how I would get through calculus. I’d faked my way through enough math that I couldn’t tell you what I actually understood. Geometry was angles. Algebra was trying to remember where the numbers went. Calculus was a wall I could see from where I sat.
I didn’t sign up for it.
I picked another class.
Then another.
Then another.