Callings
Posted: Monday, February 08, 2010
by Chris Cole
George Cole
I am forty-three years old and I have held a copious amount of careers and job titles within my large and uncalloused hands. I have been privy, or one of the privileged, while bearing my life's achievement on a name tag affixed to a polyester vest (i.e., "Chris/Asst. Mgr."); a job where you could be demoted when an overzealous district manager removes your label's name and title (from your shiny, plastic name badge). I was especially proud to display my "I scan every item" button on my neon lime-colored vest. Needless to say, I have had my share of five and dime store/retail jobs. Though, this is not my point.
The last two years after moving to The Hill Country of Texas, I have come to reflect on ones' calling or their chosen occupation. I remember when I was ten years old; I wanted to become an actor or director. Of course my career choices became limited when I became the father of a beautiful (and quite wonderful) baby girl. I followed in the footsteps of many new found fathers by going to work for my father-in-law. My golden dynasty job was that of a radiographer (No, not the cozy, coffee-drinking radiographers in the hospital, but the radiographers that take x-rays of pipe welds during inclement weather in the Texas oilfields). After about a year of oilfield work, I discovered I had to change careers. I remembered I won a debate scholarship in high school from our local V.F.W. back in 1983. Utilizing this scholarship enabled me to attend Basic Police Academy and begin an illustrious career treading the thin blue line.
Recently, I have wondered, "What set of life-changing circumstances would make an individual want to become a death-row executioner?" When they were a child, did they all of a sudden decide to become an "Executioner" after burning ants with a magnifying glass? Did they exude a sense of power after tying a firecracker to a dog's tail?
I can honestly say after almost ten years of law enforcement, I never allowed the authority bestowed on me by The State of Texas to go to my head. I never went on a power trip. In fact, the job taught me to respect people of all diversity and not to judge a book by its cover. I believe the cornerstones of my humility were set in place during my first years at the police department. This was a bit ironic (my favorite word) due to the fact the police are taught command presence, interrogation and interview tactics, and "Everyone is a Liar" courses. I would like to think my brother saved me a lot of grief and turmoil when he stated, "Don't let the badge and gun go to your head." He said this right after police academy concluded, and I continue to hold onto his simple statement to this very day; don't abuse the authority which has been trusted to you.
Speaking of my one and only brother, Pat, has always wanted to be a doctor. I remember as a child Pat telling my mother and father how he wanted to practice medicine. It was his life-long calling and he now proudly displays a M.D. after his name.
Honestly, what is the driving force that chooses an individual's career? I have a friend that went to school for computer programming, became a successful programmer, then went to law school. After law school, he practiced law for about five years and went back into computers. Now, his J.D. diploma sits covertly amongst a myriad of computers. My friend told me, "Computers are my life, it is what I like to do, it is my calling."
Is a career suddenly chosen for us from Gods personal job roulette wheel? Is the decision to pursue a certain field derived from childhood experiences or was it incorporated within our D.N.A. from birth?
In my family I am not the science/biology major, that is my brother's job, so I will not even try to explain D.N.A. and heredity genomes, because I am a plain old Criminal Justice major. Although I am not a scientific wizard, I have read several scientific studies that reveal tendencies for certain professions are present at birth. This means if you have a doctor in your family, you might possess a proclivity for medicine or the sciences. This is the case with my family, for I have an uncle (my father's brother) who has a P.H.D. in Biology. This same uncle has three children (my cousins..duh), two of which are in the medical field. And, I don't have to draw a map to my brother, a doctor, for my closing argument about inherited "Job D.N.A."
This leads me to, well..."me." As a child I wanted to be an actor or director, and I ended up in retail and later as a police officer. I attended college and discovered that I had a moderate talent writing. This was only after being shoved by my English Professor (Dr. Trapp..appropriate name, I must say) to submit some of my work to the college literary magazine. Being published was like taking heroin, I HAD to write. I was later published in newspapers and magazines after being bitten by the writing bug. Afterwards, I remembered something very applicable; my grandfather is a journalism major. Also, I recall my mother teaching me to read at the very early age of four. I looked forward to going to the library to check out a Curious George book while the other kids my age were building mud castles.
While I believe I inherited my writing genes from my father's side, it is my mother's family tree that has enabled me to tap into my emotional and artistic side. My mother taught herself to sight read piano music and is quite the accomplished piano player. This was carried down to her younger sister, Janelle, who is an accomplished writer (and English major), who in turn passed down the artistic genes to her children: Kathryn an accomplished violinist and vocalist, Camille who is quite extraordinary in her singing and piano playing, and Daniel an exquisite artist, and David a very successful businessman (to be successful in business, is an art form, also).
This leads me to my mother's brother, G.C., who is an artist par none. He continues to this day painting portraits and writing novels that are intriguing and unique.
So, in rebuttal, I believe that our career choices are inherited and are shaped and molded by our loving parents, but of course, this all starts with Our Father who started the whole process by encoding our very D.N.A.
George "Chris" Cole experienced life as a law enforcement officer with a tour of duty lasting over ten years in law enforcement. He is the survivor of two marriages, and continues to meet new people that provide inspiration for many of his articles and short stories. Many of his articles have appeared in national and local publications.
In 2008, Chris abandoned West Texas and its' "Wal-Mart Trees" (Mesquite bushes that grow plastic bags) to move to the green pastures and real trees of Fredericksburg, Texas. Chris continues to work and hone his writing skills while breathing the fresh air of the hill country.
Mr. Cole can be contacted at kriskohl333@gmail.com.
Chris Cole
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Chris Cole
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Chris Cole
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In 2008, Chris abandoned West Texas and its' "Wal-Mart Trees" (Mesquite bushes that grow plastic bags) to move to the green pastures and real trees of Fredericksburg, Texas. Chris continues to work and hone his writing skills while breathing the fresh air of the hill country.
Mr. Cole can be contacted at kriskohl333@gmail.com.
Chris Cole
SearchWarp.com
Featured Author!
Chris Cole
SearchWarp.com
Author!
Chris Cole
SearchWarp.com
Top 100 Author!
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