Where's My Casserole?

At the ripe old age of thirty, with 4 children, an ex-husband who was totally absent and no hope in the world of getting out of the crumbling housing projects of Tonawanda, I decided to go to college. I never said I was bright, or that my timing was good, or even that I deserved to pursue a degree. I just said I went. It was a struggle unlike any I had gone through before or since. Four small kids (all under 6) and starting school. I cannot today tell you what I was thinking. Working full time at night, Food Stamps, Medicaid, Coop'ing babysitting with other single moms and now.. what? college? Really?

I majored in Political Science for 2 reasons, none more important that the other. I knew that a BA in Poli Sci could get me into Law School and I liked to argue. I seemed to have an opinion about nearly everything. So it made sense at that time in my life to head toward law school. Like eveything else in my life, my plans became dust. But I get ahead of myself here.

I took my Poli Sci classes and hated every minute of every one. I envy people who enjoy History and Economics and all the crap that goes into a degree like that. But it wasn't me. I did well enough. i had a 3.6 average. In order to fill in the gaps in my schedule, keep the financial aid rolling in, I took Sociology classes. Now those were fun! The study of the behaviors of groups of people. Not individuals, but large, sampled groups. Amazing, thrilling and fun! In my Junior year I met with my PS advisor who pointed out to me that I was way off the mark in graduating on time in my chosen field, but was 3 classes away from a degree in Sociology. What!? I switched majors with a quickness. I never regretted that decision. Many others, but never that one.

One of the classes I took was Sociology of the Family. We talked about all kinds of things in that class. My professor was a single Dad who had fought long and hard for custody of his son. He liked to talk about how happy he was to be that single parent. he talked about the joy his son brought him every day. He talked about how all his female colleagues would ooh and aah over him, heaping him with praise for raising one child all by himself. He talked about how the neighbor ladies would bring casseroles to his house so he wouldn't have to cook after a hard day at work.

Where was my praise? Where was my oohs and aahs? Where was my freaking' casserole? It occurred to me then, in the finest Sociology thinking, that there seemed to be a status difference between how single fathers and single mothers were perceived. Single fathers were heroes who were to be lauded and supported. Single mothers were whores or alcoholics - why else would their husbands leave them? I wanted to do my research on just that. I came up with a proposal, wrote it up and took it to my new Sociology advisor for approval. She said it was ridiculous and I should try to find something that wasn't so obviously crap. I tried to defend my idea and she told me, "You can't bullshit a bullshitter. Find something else."

How was I to know that she was one of the admirers of this guy, that she had actually been a casserole-bearer? Well shit. That's just how things go in Sue's World. I'm still waiting for my casserole.