Courage
(Baker,R/Downie,G/Sinclair,G/Fay,J/Langlois,P) Performed by The Tragically Hip
Watch the band through a bunch of dancers
Quickly, follow the unknown
With something more familiar
Quickly, something familiar
Courage, my word
It didn't come, it doesn't matter
Sleepwalk, so fast asleep
In a motel that has the lay of home
And piss on all of your background
And piss on all your surroundings
Courage, my word
It didn't come, it doesn't matter
Courage, your word
It didn't come, it doesn't matter
Courage, my word
It didn't come, it doesn't matter
Courage, it couldn't come at a worse time
There's no simple
Explanation
For anything important
Any of us do
And, yeah, the human
Tragedy
Consists in
The necessity
Of living with
The consequences
Under pressure
Under pressure
Courage, my word
It didn't come, it doesn't matter
Courage, your word
It didn't come, it doesn't matter
Courage, my word
It didn't come, it doesn't matter
Courage, it couldn't come at a worse time
It couldn't come at a worse time
No
It couldn't come at a worse time
Courage
The Tragically Hip is one of those groups that I totally didn't appreciate at the time, and I can't even explain why; just didn't care about them. But looking this morning at the top songs of 1993 - the year that I'm up to in my timeline - this song has weathered the years so much better than the Mariah Carey and Janet Jackson tunes that sold better in the day: not that I was digging Dreamlover or That's the Way Love Goes back then, either, but I'd much rather listen to some Hip today. As for the song itself, I want to talk about changes I made back then in my life, but Courage would be a dramatic way of putting it - I feel like I'm stretching the meaning just to include a Hip tune here (which also feels appropriate on the heels of Canada's 150th; a nod to Canadian icon Gord Downie as he is slowly dying of brain cancer). On a related note, it was at a Tragically Hip concert at Niagara Falls on New Year's Eve of 1994 that my brother Ken would propose to his girlfriend, Laura - this was their favourite group - and that, as they say, was history in the making (they're coming up on their 22nd anniversary).
So, to recap, at the time I was waitressing in the restaurant at the Citadel Theatre in Edmonton. And unlike the years of crazy fun I had had waitressing at Sha Na Na's, the job at Marlowe's was just work. I felt like I was wasting my time and my gifts and my life: One time, after an interesting and philosophical conversation with a customer, he said, "You should have done something with your life." I was twenty-four at the time (which felt really young to me) and I replied, "Well, I'm not over yet." He liked that, and it really got me thinking: What should I be doing with my life? I always knew I wanted to go back to school, but what could I take? I was married, knew that Dave and I would be wanting kids, so I tried to think what would be the best job I could have as a mother; what would give me maximum time with my babies, while still contributing to our family finances? I decided that I should work in a daycare, and ultimately, open one of my own. The local Grant McEwan Community College offered a two year course in Early Childhood Development (a new requirement phasing in at the time for all provincial daycare workers), with a third year offered for managers. I figured that that was the perfect solution for me - I could have my babies at work with me, and ultimately, be the boss with the flexibility to care for them wherever they needed me. All this decided without ever having stepped in a daycare at the time.
Despite it being "only" a college-level education, the application process was really involved: In addition to the expected transcripts, I needed to secure a letter of recommendation from an industry leader (a list of acceptable people was provided); there was a group interview with the program instructors; I needed a police background check; and a physical. For whatever reason, my mother was visiting as I got my application package, and when we looked over the requirements together, I groaned at having to contact one of these community leaders for a letter - why would anyone I don't know write me a recommendation for a job I've never had? Plus, I hated cold calling anyone I didn't know. Ma looked over the list, and noting the name of a nun (who ran a nearby Church-funded childcare facility), and being familiar with how to speak with nuns after having been educated by them, Ma offered to call her for me and set up a meeting. I accepted the offer and cringed beside her as Ma opened with, "Good morning Sister, this is Krista Thompson speaking..." That is totally not the way I would begin a conversation with a stranger, but as I couldn't bring myself to make the call, I was grateful she took care of it - and when I met with the nun, she couldn't have been nicer, and of course, since she was on that list, she knew exactly what I was seeking from her and she was happy to provide it. (And speaking of my mother: A couple of years earlier, she had mused about opening a daycare centre, but I never really thought that I was somehow fulfilling her pipe dream - I couldn't see how her idea and mine were exactly the same, and that's messed up.)
The group interview was also awkward: The instructors were all professional and professorial looking, and they sat in a circle of chairs with a group of ten or so of us applicants. I was obviously the oldest of the interviewees, and as soon became apparent, I was the only one who wasn't a current daycare worker who was being sent to school to satisfy the new provincial requirements. As the instructors asked questions about real life child care scenarios, I was the only one without work-related experience to contribute to the conversation, and despite my lofty goals, I felt out of my league. And when they went around the circle and asked each of us what our long-term plans were, I felt like a tool saying that my ultimate goal was to take the third year management course and open my own facility; eyebrows were raised and glances exchanged and I thought I blew it. But when I soon got a phone message saying that I was accepted pending the rest of my application, the physical, background check, and transcripts were easily provided. I was ready to go back to school.
At the time, Dave was working a decent job as the Front of House Manager at Theatre Network, we had bought our own house and had a renter (Curtis, who rarely actually paid us), and I don't remember if we agreed on this or if I decided it on my own, lol, but I happily gave my notice at Marlowe's: I was done with waitressing. When I quit, the owner, Gordie, thought I was crazy: Why wouldn't I want to work part-time while I was going to school? But I couldn't wait to get out of there; to get on with my life (even if that created an unfair burden for Dave).
Interesting development: During my first semester at school, Delight called me one day and said that the bosses back at Sha Na Na's wanted to know if I'd come back to cover a Friday night shift that they were short-staffed for. Working with Delight again sounded like fun (and I couldn't say no to the easy money as I remembered it), so I jumped at the chance. Ah, but you can never go home again: I wasn't the only one who must have felt unsafe in the time that the bar was being taken over by Vietnamese gangsters, and Sha Na Na's was no longer full to bursting on a Friday night; they had lost their young client base and there wasn't nearly as much fun or money as I had been expecting. But it turned out that that wasn't really why I had been called. After the bar was closed, Wayne (the owner) asked if he could meet with me in his office. He said that he had heard I was studying at college to work in daycares, and as he owned a couple himself, he explained that he wanted me to manage one of them for him; that he knew he could trust me and he needed me to act as his agent in an industry he didn't fully understand. I explained that I had only just started school, that I knew nothing at that point about what good care looked like, and he said that that didn't matter: all he needed was a manager, and he knew that I could handle the job. I had really lofty ideals about the professionalism I wanted to bring to early childhood education - ideals that revolved around what I wanted for my own future children - so despite Wayne's generous offer, I had to turn him down. Which he didn't understand then, and I maybe regret today: Wayne was offering me the exact position I hoped to get after three (lean and hungry) years of schooling. Was that Courage after all? Or plain foolishness? Time would tell.
