It was one year ago April 1 (of all days), that I began my retirement as executive director of NASPA. Because I did not want to look back on the year and wonder what I had accomplished and how I had spent my precious time, I set a number of goals for myself. I am satisfied with my accomplishments because they have cleared the way for me to devote time to what I’ve thought I have wanted to do for years. I began writing about my life experiences with a chapter in a book of essays in 1994, and never have gotten back to it. Now is the time…
When I think about the number of memoirs, biographies, and autobiographies already written and published, I tell myself that the world does not need one more of these. Yet, I feel compelled to put my memories on paper because even as a child as I experienced the dailiness of my life, I would tell myself that I should remember this for the story I would tell later.
I share my plan to write as a measure of accountability for myself. As disciplined as I am, I need to feel an obligation, such as this public promise, in order to devote the time to writing.
In some ways, I feel selfish in writing about myself. My saving grace will be that if I write something that someone else will attribute meaning, then I will have given of myself in exchange for receiving the satisfaction of telling my story.