The reasons for blogging on Hive are as varied as the human condition. For me, the most compelling reason is the inspiration I receive from other bloggers.
I just finished reading a post in the Inkwell Community. The author lives on another continent and is generations younger than I am, and yet I saw myself in her piece. Or at least I saw my youth, my young self reflected in her ambition, her drive, her determination to overcome obstacles.
The theme of aspiring and overcoming obstacles appears frequently in Inkwell blogs. In most cases there are limited opportunities. The way out of a grim present is advanced education. For a youth of sparse material resources, this is the glimmer of hope. Achievement is not dependent on powerful connections or monetary resources. It is dependent on initiative, hard work and determination. The young people prepare for an exam and based on the results of that test, a door opens or closes.
Exactly 60 years ago I was that young person. I had been a rather indolent high school student, achieving success with minimal effort. Doing well was good enough for me. I didn't need to be best. Then, when I was a senior, I faced my future.
1920 (Even I'm Not That Old!) Picture of My High School
Bay Ridge High School, Brooklyn NY. Public domain (postcard)
There really wasn't much of a future unless I went to college (oh, how that sentiment is echoed in the words of my young Inkwell bloggers). I had no rich relatives or friends. My family had no money. The future would be a low-wage job and dim prospects if I didn't go to college. But there was an exam, one exam, that could open the door for me.
In New York State students were offered something called the Regents Scholarship Exam. Anyone could sit for the test, no fee attached. If one passed that exam, a stipend for college would be provided. This would not cover tuition entirely, but winning a Regents Scholarship might draw the attention of other grantors, who would add to the pot.
The day of the exam the room was packed. I recognized the proctor. She had been my chemistry teacher. I did well enough in chemistry. My typical casual approach to the subject had earned me an 85. I think the teacher was more amused by my attitude than offended, because I was actually interested in the subject. I just wasn't interested in working hard.
That day in the exam room everyone bowed over their papers when the proctor said, "Begin". We were told, it's fine to guess. No penalty for wrong answers. That was good for me, because, as an avid reader, I had an approximate familiarity with a lot of subjects and could make intelligent guesses.
After a while, people started to leave. I wondered, "How could they have finished"? There were so many questions. It was discouraging, but if I'm anything, I'm stubborn. So I kept working.
More people left. How did they finish so fast? I put my head down and kept plugging away. There was no time limit. I was going to read and answer every single question in that long exam book. I was completely absorbed. Then I realized I was the only one in the room.
The teacher wasn't looking at me. And I tried not to look at her. I was tired, but wasn't leaving until I had thought carefully about each question. My future, my college possibilities rested on the results of this test.
Finally, I was done. I rose sheepishly from my seat, handed the booklet to the teacher and apologized. She looked at me with a benign expression and said something reassuring.
Months passed. Then the mail came. An official envelope with a return address from New York State. I remember opening the letter and reading the notice. I was a Regents Scholar. I had the sense, my whole family had the sense, that in one moment my future had changed.
The results, with scores, were posted on the school bulletin board. Cutoff for winners was 110. I had scored 114. Only four students in my graduating class of 980 students had scored over 110. I thought of those extra minutes spent puzzling over questions. That's what made the difference. Not giving up.
Washington Square Park: I Walked Here Every Day That I Attended Classes at the University
Vladtheinhaler. Public domain.
As expected, the Regents Scholarship award attracted the attention of my school college advisor. She started hunting for other sources of money. There were several. She submitted an application to a highly competitive university and that institution gave me a scholarship to augment what I was already receiving. The path to a promising future, to at least a middle class life, was open.
So, when I read my young bloggers' posts in the Inkwell, and learn of their hopes, their anxiety over a potentially life-changing exam, I see myself. I'm in that classroom again, bent over a book, refusing to give up. When I cheer for my young bloggers, it's not as an onlooker, an objective observer. My heart is moved. I wish for every one of them the gift of good fortune that was given to me.