D-I-V-O-R-C-E
Wasn't that the name of a country western song? It certainly colored the next phase of my life for a seemingly indefinite period of time. It was not something I'd ever imagined being a part of. I wanted a stable family life. I wanted to be the perfect husband father. It was unrealistic.
After I quit the college administrative job during a particularly abusive tirade in May 1983, I was back in the position of the unemployed (not quite as dreadful as it would be today). It was bad for the family all the way around, but I was indeed fortunate to find a very good job relatively quickly. It was a door back into the classroom. Creighton Preparatory School, a long-established Jesuit (Catholic) college preparatory high school for boys in Omaha was looking for an additional teacher of Spanish. I filled the bill. I think the selling point for me was that I held a graduate degree from Georgetown, one of the nation's most prestigious Jesuit schools.
Unfortunately, of course, I could not actually begin work until the fall term so I had to make do for the summer months with temporary jobs doing whatever. I was willing and able. Margery, however, was not. She announced that she was filing for divorce and that I was to move out. I was devastated and pleaded for reconsideration. It did no good. I'd always had my ups and downs with depression that had soured our relationship. She cited that I'd had an unstable work history and asserted that, although I now had a good job waiting, I would not be successful at it as I'd never been successful at anything in my life. Ouch! She really wanted me to leave, didn't she? It took me more than a while to work through that pain and that tremendous put down.
I survived. The kids, who were 11, 9, and 7, were worried about me so I tried not to show my self-doubts and to get busy making arrangements for the move. I don't think Margery intentionally intended to be so caustic. She just wanted the marriage over. The final divorce papers were not in effect before January 1984. Gradually things improved for me. I was hospitalized for about two weeks right after school began because I realized I was increasingly suicidal. I made some friends among other divorcees, mostly women, and learned how to move on with my life. It took some time, but eventually over the next couple of years I got beyond make-do living arrangements to a one bedroom apartment in a new complex. The setting alone helped. I became active in a singles square dance club. I made some very good friends at Prep itself. My children, especially my daughter, worried less about me.
I taught Spanish I and II for sixteen years. One year a flare up in the department dropped both Spanish IV and V in my lap for one year. It was fun. I think I handled it well. Several of those years I worked as one of the co-moderators of the very large yearbook, one of our chief recruiting tools. I am proud of those volumes. I also thoroughly enjoyed the mandatory spiritual retreat programs and became most active with the portion known as Junior Encounter.
I am not that big of a sports enthusiast, but I thoroughly enjoyed Prep's program. They were a football powerhouse, regularly taking the state championship. They had an unprecedented five years in a row plus a whole lot of other years during my tenure. My own children thoroughly enjoyed going to the games. My oldest went to Creighton University on a one-fourth off tuition arrangement from my job. Later his mother's new job at the university kicked in and gave him a full tuition break.
Back in the city, I finally let myself become more fully involved in community theater again. I didn't have any major roles, but I did get parts in various neighborhood theaters as well as getting to do some work at the flagship theater, the Omaha Community Playhouse.
Toward the latter part of my tenure there I was edging closer to admitting my sexuality. Some of that came from the encouragement of my church, First United Methodist, and its pastor Jimmy Creech (1996-1998). I became active in the movement for fairness for GLBT persons in the United Methodist Church. I think it made some people around the school a little nervous. At any rate I decided that for two primary reasons I wanted to head back to Texas: (1) to keep my younger brother from being totally responsible for our aging, widowed father and (2) oddly enough, to have a new situation in which to be more completely out and open about living my life as a gay man. By this time, my oldest two were married and on their own; and the youngest was in law school in D. C.
It's harder to write about something that feels so current.
After I quit the college administrative job during a particularly abusive tirade in May 1983, I was back in the position of the unemployed (not quite as dreadful as it would be today). It was bad for the family all the way around, but I was indeed fortunate to find a very good job relatively quickly. It was a door back into the classroom. Creighton Preparatory School, a long-established Jesuit (Catholic) college preparatory high school for boys in Omaha was looking for an additional teacher of Spanish. I filled the bill. I think the selling point for me was that I held a graduate degree from Georgetown, one of the nation's most prestigious Jesuit schools.
Unfortunately, of course, I could not actually begin work until the fall term so I had to make do for the summer months with temporary jobs doing whatever. I was willing and able. Margery, however, was not. She announced that she was filing for divorce and that I was to move out. I was devastated and pleaded for reconsideration. It did no good. I'd always had my ups and downs with depression that had soured our relationship. She cited that I'd had an unstable work history and asserted that, although I now had a good job waiting, I would not be successful at it as I'd never been successful at anything in my life. Ouch! She really wanted me to leave, didn't she? It took me more than a while to work through that pain and that tremendous put down.
I survived. The kids, who were 11, 9, and 7, were worried about me so I tried not to show my self-doubts and to get busy making arrangements for the move. I don't think Margery intentionally intended to be so caustic. She just wanted the marriage over. The final divorce papers were not in effect before January 1984. Gradually things improved for me. I was hospitalized for about two weeks right after school began because I realized I was increasingly suicidal. I made some friends among other divorcees, mostly women, and learned how to move on with my life. It took some time, but eventually over the next couple of years I got beyond make-do living arrangements to a one bedroom apartment in a new complex. The setting alone helped. I became active in a singles square dance club. I made some very good friends at Prep itself. My children, especially my daughter, worried less about me.
I taught Spanish I and II for sixteen years. One year a flare up in the department dropped both Spanish IV and V in my lap for one year. It was fun. I think I handled it well. Several of those years I worked as one of the co-moderators of the very large yearbook, one of our chief recruiting tools. I am proud of those volumes. I also thoroughly enjoyed the mandatory spiritual retreat programs and became most active with the portion known as Junior Encounter.
I am not that big of a sports enthusiast, but I thoroughly enjoyed Prep's program. They were a football powerhouse, regularly taking the state championship. They had an unprecedented five years in a row plus a whole lot of other years during my tenure. My own children thoroughly enjoyed going to the games. My oldest went to Creighton University on a one-fourth off tuition arrangement from my job. Later his mother's new job at the university kicked in and gave him a full tuition break.
Back in the city, I finally let myself become more fully involved in community theater again. I didn't have any major roles, but I did get parts in various neighborhood theaters as well as getting to do some work at the flagship theater, the Omaha Community Playhouse.
Toward the latter part of my tenure there I was edging closer to admitting my sexuality. Some of that came from the encouragement of my church, First United Methodist, and its pastor Jimmy Creech (1996-1998). I became active in the movement for fairness for GLBT persons in the United Methodist Church. I think it made some people around the school a little nervous. At any rate I decided that for two primary reasons I wanted to head back to Texas: (1) to keep my younger brother from being totally responsible for our aging, widowed father and (2) oddly enough, to have a new situation in which to be more completely out and open about living my life as a gay man. By this time, my oldest two were married and on their own; and the youngest was in law school in D. C.
It's harder to write about something that feels so current.