Facing Your Fears (Don't Be A Chicken)

Making the decision to go to culinary school was easy and by far one of the best things I have done so far. There was only one concern that I had through the enrollment process. It involved a chicken. 

Anyone that knows me well knows that I HATE handling raw chicken.  If there was another word for hate I would use it. Oh wait....abhor, detest, loathe, despise.  Those might work. It all goes back to my childhood.  At some point, I don't even know when, chicken (raw) became my enemy.  I remember a few times being punished with the chore of cleaning the chicken.  I have vivid memories of sobbing and dry heaving while I cleaned a sink full of the slick, wet flesh.  To my parents it was fitting punishment. To me it was torture. Were they trying to get a secret out of me they would have broken me the moment I first glanced at the carcass of the lifeless creature.

Two weeks ago my instructor informed the class the the following week was chicken fabrication week.  Chicken fabrication? This didn't sound to bad. Then he explained that it meant we would be cutting up a chicken.  A wave of panic swept over me.  I could feel the mucus and the bile rising to my esophagus.  Oh no! Just the thought of the raw chicken was making me ill.  As I sat there in my chair, the world spinning violently around me, I could hear the oohs and ahhhs coming from the crowd. The excitement that was displayed was too much for me to bear.  As these chicken surgeons cheered and rejoiced, I began to scream and cry (Inside my head of course. I'm not that crazy.). All I could think about was how most assuredly I would be vomiting in class next week.  When I could finally raise my head out of my hands I saw a creature, who like me, carried a look of fear on her face.  This was of no comfort to me.  Her reaction only validated what I was feeling. I tried desperately not to focus on her face.

Throughout the following days I didn't think about chicken fabrication, instead, I lived in my world of denial, where chicken breasts and hamburger meat grow on trees.  I pretended that I had not heard what the instructor said.  Sadly, Friday approached and I knew that I would have to face the music.  When I woke up the first thing that came to mind was that chicken.  I decided not to dwell on it.  When I did think about it I would tell myself that I could do it.  You'll hear bones cracking.  No big deal.

I arrived to class with a strong desire to get through this thing without gagging or, worse, vomiting.  The instructor demonstrated the cuts and then pointed us to a pile of chickens.  I knew that if I didn't just walk up there and grab a chicken now I would never do it.  In one quick move I grabbed that chicken and rinsed it off, then set it down on my cutting board.  The first cut was the hardest.  Once I started I just kept on going.

I can't say that I loved cutting that chicken up, but I did give it more than 100%.  I even cut a second chicken.  And while the guys in class were still cutting their first chicken, I was cleaning the mess I had made cutting two. 

How was I able to get through this, you ask? Honestly, through prayer.  It was God's strength that saw me through chicken fabrication.  I know that may sound silly, prayer to cut a chicken, but it was a genuine fear.  I can cut a chicken. YAY!

Cruisin' In My 4.0

Perhaps it is the maturity I have gained or the reminder of the tuition that I am paying; whatever it is, this attempt at college seems different than the last times.  Yes.  I said times.  I appreciate it more now.  Partly because I love what I am studying, but mostly because I don't have as much time as the traditional college student to get this done. I feel as though I have lost a lot of valuable time and because of that I am working harder than I ever have.

Long hours of research, reading, homework, studying and at least 375 flash cards for studying (most of this just up to midterm) have caused me to miss out on a lot. I haven't been to church since I started.  I haven't had time for lunch with my beautiful friends. I am so tired that when I do have free time I crave, not going out, but rather, staying home in my pajamas and doing nothing. There have been a few moments (like midterm week) when I was asking myself, "what the heck did I get myself into?"  Well, what I got myself into was an opportunity to change my life; to get an education, to set an example for my children; to try and experience new things (and foods. YAY food!); and to challenge myself like I have never done before.

I logged into my school account to check my midterm grades and found that 4.0 GPA I set out to get. I'm on my way people.  Crusin' in my 4.0 to graduation day.  I know that there are going to be days when the road is rough and winding, but I am not getting off until G Day. 

Thank you God.  For giving me this opportunity and for surrounding me with family and friends who are helping me navigate this road trip.

I love you all!!!!