The Challenges I Put My Father Through

My father has been on the other side for almost two decades now. I often reflect on how difficult it probably was for him to have a daughter such as myself.

My father adored me but did not understand me. He had a very important job that required a tremendous amount of his time, energy, and focus.

He was a Brooklyn boy and his life path showed him that getting out of New York was the way to a “real life”. Education was of great importance to him and getting us on the right foot to step out into the world a top priority.

My sister wanted to be a doctor from a young age and I wanted to be a ballerina. The doctor thing was met with great approval from my father who knew education was critically important for success and “happiness”.

I put the word “happiness” in quotations because I observed from a young age that minds create patterns that we believe will help us attain that elusive experience of happiness.

I saw my father doing a very important job that literally changed our world and protected our country. I saw him have to deal with the political forces of the military and congressional approvals of military spending and budgets.

I also saw that he hated the games that politics played in trying to create the safety and security of our country.
He was an inventor on the grandest of scales. He loved that creative process and he loved working with the greatest minds in engineering to figure out the problems that required solutions.

That was his passion and that was his purpose. But sometimes to do such a grand thing, other sacrifices have to be made.

I watched the pressures that others placed upon him cause him to suffer in various ways.

I knew he would not change anything about his choices and I knew that in going for a dream, there will be sacrifices required for success.
His education mixed with his great and creative mind gave him the stability for the family that he probably always wanted to create.

He loved living in Texas with its wide, open spaces. He loved the easy-going demeanor and lifestyle.
He worked incredibly hard in this lifetime and absolutely did the best he knew how to do.

I know that he wanted more for his children.

My sister fit the pictures of what he wanted for his family.

I probably seemed to have my head in the clouds and was living in a fairy tale.

There were many moments of argument and intense discussion about his perception and the frivolousness of my choices.

To him it made no sense.

I was a straight “A” student. My testing scores were in the 98^th and 99^th levels of potential. Science was easy, complex math’s were effortless, cubic, special, relationships fun and interesting.

He could see I had the makings of a great engineer or something in the scientific fields.

But I could see something that he did not.

And that was that life is the school. A never-ending series of lessons. Life is all the books. It is a library of endless study if one allows a curious mind and an excited heart to wander and wonder.

I knew deep inside that learning to control my own body, mind, and emotions was much harder that studying from books, solving math problems, and memorizing chemistry equations.

Giving the mind things to solve and being tested on my ability to figure out a problem just felt like empty games without teeth … without substance.

It was hard (when I was young) to verbally explain that to him.

He was smart and quick, and all my attempts to show value and meaning were countered with very rational, logical, and insistent statements of fact.

But how does one explain a personal artistic passion to someone who had already found his in a very different place?
He hated everything that ballet was. He hated the frivolity of it. He hated the “strange men” that he saw in this artform.

I tried to explain that being around those “strange men” was much safer than going out on a date.

That temporarily shut him up.

He would argue, “Do you know how many want to be ballerinas and how many actually make it out there in the world as ballet dancers?”

I responded that I did not care!

And countered with the truth, “Dad! If I become an old woman saying, ‘I could have been a famous ballerina if my father had just let me!’ You realize that I will resent and hate you for that whole life!”

He just did not understand.

To him ballet was an indulgence … a ridiculous expense that would end up a waste of time and money.

Over and over again, he tried to detour me from my dream. He would consciously create obstacles with the intent to stop this ridiculous endeavor.

He said to me at 13 years old, that he was no longer going to pay for ballet lessons. (Three classes a week were only $35 a month back then.)

So, I went to my ballet teachers in Dallas … and cried, saying that I was going to have to stop because my father refused to pay for the classes anymore!

They instantly gave me free lessons. They could see the talent inside that needed to be nurtured in order for it to get out.

There was one caveat at the beginning. I had to come in and help in the office to check girls into their classes.

Fortunately, that did not last long but I still ended up getting the free lessons until I got the SAB local school scholarship at 14 years old. It paid for my classes at the Etgen-Atkinson School of Ballet in Dallas.

Then my father said that he would not pay for the point shoes. (Back then they were $35 a pair.)

So, at 15 years old, I was helping with filing at my mother’s office making just enough money to pay for the shoes.
Then came the kicker … I got the SAB Scholarship to New York. That was a big deal and no matter what my father could not really stop me from going. I think that even he might have started to be impressed.

I think to become great; a person needs to have an adversary to push against. In this case, my father was that wall that would seem to never move.
I learned to bounce off it.
I learned to not let the projections of others stop me from my dream.

I learned that the dreams of others are the indicator of how that soul is attempting to reach past the mundane toward passion.
I also would learn that not all dreams are granted and not all talent is enough.
I learned that luck and timing are critical.
I learned that the willingness to risk is essential. And the determination of a spirit can become a bright light that can entice the doorway of chance to open.

~Suzanne Wagner~