Don’t You Forget About Me      

The movie Flashdance, about a Pittsburgh woman who worked as a welder by day and an exotic dancer at night with dreams of ballet school, came out in the Spring of my junior year in high school.  I was so captivated by Jennifer Beals as the main character Alex and inherently knew what I wanted to do post-high school graduation.  I decided to go to welding school.  Perhaps not what you were expecting? Neither were my parents.

I am the last of 8 children and the first one my parents could afford to send to college. Honestly, I am not sure they could actually “afford” it; however, both of my parents were children of the depression and determined to see the baby of the family earn her degree. So, the conversation with my parents about welding school was quick, one-sided, and thus began the search for the “perfect” college for me.

In 1983, we had to call the schools, talk with an actual person, and schedule our tour date.  I visited 3 campuses, John Carroll University, The University of Akron, and Bowling Green State University (BG).  The first 2 I went with a friend and my parents attended BG with me.

When touring the campus at BG, someone had asked our guide about the current male to female ratio to which she replied, “At BG, there are 4 females for every 1 male”.   Much to my teen horror, I heard my father announce “Application please. This is where my daughter is going,” Of course, all the other girl dads who were present chuckled.

Next step in this process, which was all new to our family, was attending freshman orientation.  Since my dad was not able to take off work, it was decided that just my mother would accompany me on the overnight adventure.

As the youngest of 14 children, my mom was a proud high school graduate who I sensed had secretly longed for her missed opportunity of a higher education.  Through me, she was able to fulfill that dream vicariously.

She also was diagnosed with multiple sclerosis when I was in elementary school.  Although she put up a strong and brave front, my mother dealt with a lot and walked with a slight limp.  I remember thinking, selfishly, what a challenge this orientation would be and the overall difficulty of getting around because of her condition.

Just as I expected, my mom and I moved slowly around campus doing our best to navigate the day’s schedule and the vast flat surroundings. By the time we had reached the math and science building to take my math placement test, I was late.

My mom hugged me, sat down on a nearby bench, and shouted “good luck” as I ran off to enter the building.  I immediately saw signs directing me to the appropriate testing room. As I pulled the heavy, steel door open it made a super loud noise, almost like a groan, causing the 300+ kids taking the exam to pause and look back at me.

The proctor yelled out “Does anyone have a seat for this young lady?”  Just then, a guy with scruffy hair, cut-off jean shorts, and a faded blue t-shirt stood up and replied “Yo babe. Right here.”

I moved through the room quickly to get to my newfound friend and seat savior Rich. When the math placement test was completed, I thanked him profusely and said see you in the fall!

When I found my mom, we laughed and laughed as I recounted the “search for a seat” in the exam story.  In that moment, as I stepped out of my own little-world-self and looked over at the pure joy in her face, I realized just how much this collegiate orientation experience meant to her.  Yes, she was proud of me but also so happy that she was able to spend some time enjoying a college campus.

With that in mind, I suggested we take the long way back to the dorm we were staying in.  We strolled past the red brick buildings and white-painted sorority houses with my mother taking it all in, one slow step at a time.

A couple of months ago, I, too, shared this same experience with my youngest for his college orientation.  As he and I walked along the red brick pathways of his future school, I stopped and noticed our shadows.  And remembered the slow, similar walk I took with my mother so many years ago.


Laura Gray
Laura Gray
Laura is the Founder/Executive Director of IPride, a self-esteem, empowerment program for youth which she created in 2015. A published author, living kidney donor, and a fervent advocate for sexual assault victims, Laura is a proud mother of 3 sons and 3 dogs. She strives to live each day with a grateful heart and feels especially connected to herself and God when she is in nature. For additional information on IPride, please visit Educations and Certifications; Bachelor of Arts in Communications, Bowling Green State University; Professional Life Coach, IPride Life Coaching, World Coach Institute, Miami FL; Social Emotional Learning and Mindfulness Teaching, Breathe for Change, San Francisco, CA.; The Science of Well-Being, Yale University; Personal Trainer, Athletics, and Fitness Association of America. Highlights; Living kidney donor, 2021; Featured author, “Mayhem to Miracles”, Sacred Stories publication, October 2021. IPride YouTube Channel, IPride in 5: Peace In, Peace Out; Presenter, Youth Leadership Summit, 2018, 2020; Panelist, “Sexual Assault: The Conversation Continues”, Bowling Green State University, 2020; Featured Story, “Seen + Heard: A series of photographs of men and women ending their silence with regards to sexual assault”, 2017. Published, “The Little Cloth Secret Keeper”, Women for One: Truthtellers 2017 Published, 3 poems, Luna Negra, Kent State University, 2012.

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  1. Laura, what a lovely article! You told us a touching story about your mother and yourself. Every parent, to some degree, lives vicariously through their children (with an emphasis on “to some degree”). Parents should support and guide their children while also setting them free to fulfil their dreams.

    Following Dennis’ advice to rediscover “good stuff” in BIZCATALYST 360° massive archive (during his sabbatical), I started reading old articles of my favourite BC authors. You’re one of them. 🙂 For now, I have read a few of your articles and I’d like to tell you that I love your writing style and the way you ‘weave’ your stories.

    • Lada, thank you so much for making time to read this piece and for your kind words. This particular story was “easy” to write as I felt the words flow from my heart to my pen. Thanks again!

    • Thank you for responding to my comment, Laura. Unfortunately, many writers on BC don’t respond to the comments on their own articles. Thank you for not being one of them. 🙂