My parents taught me to be brave and accept the journey, no matter what. I was raised in California and Washington State by parents I would describe as hippies or gypsies. They never stay in one place too long but their ability to just get up and go has taught me resilience and independence.
My parents had good jobs and they left a comfortable suburb in California to move to Montana with 3 young children in tow. They left their jobs and sold their house to buy 14 acres of land in Montana. My father built a one-room cabin for all 5 of us. The goal was to live in the cabin while he got a job and built the real house. It was 1987 and we lived in a cabin with no running water and no electricity. The bathroom was an outhouse with 3 walls, and there were bears. We showered once a week at the local gas station. It is a crazy story that still makes me laugh, but the move was an act of rebellion and courage. There was never the idea that this plan would not work out. It was an opportunity and a journey and there was no reason to reject it. Within six months, we moved back to Washington but this move mattered much less. My parents took a chance and this rebellious nature would thrive in me and allow me to say yes to the journeys that presented themselves to me.
Neither of my parents attended college and my mother did not finish high school. To this day, both have a tendency to undermine people with a higher education. This attitude is perhaps what prompted me to know I had to attend college, but I became a reader at a young age and I knew I had to go to college. Because my parents did not attend college, there was not the typical support but their rebelliousness allowed me to stand on my own and pursue college regardless. I supported myself and earned scholarships along the way. Though no one else would help pay for college, it did not stop me and I thank my parents for instilling in me such courage and independence.
I was working class and even with a college degree, I needed to work to support myself. It was the time of the cubicle and like many, I found the space unfulfilling. In Montana, I walked our 14 acres every day and the state is called big sky country. Everywhere you are, there is a vast blue sky and evergreen trees. I fit within this vastness and felt comforted by it. My gypsy upbringing made the cubicle too limited. I heard a project manager talking about his son teaching in Japan and I imagined my escape. I went online to look for jobs in Japan and within the next month, I was living and teaching in Japan. My parents’ bravery taught me that crazy ideas are sometimes worth the risk. It is one of my most profound experiences to have lived and taught there. The people were warm and welcoming and I loved it.
Many of the foreigners in Japan were there to get married and that was not my goal. I took solace in taking a weekly bus trip to the nearest university, Tsukuba University, to read. I read The Awakening, Anna Karenina, and Mrs. Dalloway. Each story suggested that marriage equaled death, with the exception of Clarissa Dalloway. She asserted her independence by buying the flowers herself, despite her illness. It is a small victory but for a person living with illness, every small victory is a triumph. I internalized the stories about marriage being equated with death as my parents were divorced and very incompatible. I coined myself the odd woman, after the Victorian odd woman, who cannot make a pair. The reading confirmed my need to continue my education and I pursued scholarship. I also needed to pay for a higher education so I returned home to another corporate job and another cubicle. I really did just want to read Shakespeare and teach. I began taking classes for my Master’s Degree while working. This experience taught me the ridiculous notion that I could earn a Ph.D. No one in my family even knew what those credentials meant. Most of them thought I could write them a prescription. I knew my background was a barrier but I was brave enough to accept this journey. To this day, I have dreams that someone has found out that I am a fraud and they have taken my credentials. It shows my assumption that education was limited but the pursuit of knowledge never was. In addition, there was bravery and courage in what my parents did and I was willing to accept the challenge.
Each journey has been a surprise and that makes them worth living. I was a staunch feminist and proud odd woman. I was reading about the women who survived and railed against the institutions that oppressed them, like Mary Wollstonecraft, Virginia Woolf and Betty Friedan. I would be a spinster with cats named Leonard and Virginia, and then I got married. I met someone as rebellious as my Dad and I could not say no. My husband is a champion of the weak and if you prove yourself to him, he will do anything for you. His family is so warm and inviting. My family is loving, but in a stiff upper lip British way. To say I love you suggests weakness and my husband has endured this from me. I went from being the odd woman to being part of an odd couple. In appearance only, my husband is the heathen and I am the conservative. In reality, my husband is the conservative and I am the heathen my father taught me to be.
This year we will be married 12 years and in my family, you place bets on how long a marriage will last. No one thought we would make it a year and I don’t fault them for that. Within a year of marriage, we moved cross country from California to Pennsylvania. It is another journey I am proud to say my parents allowed me to accept. I am grateful to my husband who was brave enough to say yes to such a journey and this is why I married him. We are an odd pair in appearance only. We have lived here 11 years and it feels like a dream. Compared to California, it feels like we live in the country which reminds me of the vastness and beauty of Montana. Though we live in the country, the biggest city in the U.S. is within an arm’s reach and we will take the train and see a play as soon as the global pandemic subsides.
Cancer for me is just another journey. I was diagnosed with Stage IV metastatic colon cancer within 2 days of the Fall Semester in 2018. I will admit that I have not always accepted it with bravery, but I have faced it with rebellion, thanks to the teaching of my parents. I have endured 24 rounds of chemotherapy and a major surgery where parts of my colon and liver were removed. I am weaker and yet stronger than I have ever been. In 2019, I traveled to France to kiss Oscar Wilde’s grave after 18 rounds of chemotherapy. The doctors said I was clear of cancer but my body told me otherwise. I am grateful to my family, my husbands’ family, my family at Bucks, both students and colleagues, and my neighbors, for all their support. I am grateful to the students who have patience with me as I undergo chemotherapy and continue to teach. I dislike the battle metaphors with cancer because it implies that people who die from cancer lost the fight and this is untrue. Cancer is an illness that tries to break you and eventually, it does. There is nothing I can do about that. What I can do is dance and zigzag my way through life and savor the moments. I will continue to live my life as a sentimental journey and I encourage others to do the same even amidst a global pandemic. Take a moment to appreciate the hard work you have done as you finish a semester. Congratulations to all the graduates who finish their degree without a ceremony in 2020. We appreciate you and know that you will be brave enough to accept the journey.
Keri Barber is a Language and Literature Professor at Bucks