You Just Never Know
By Jan Hasselman Bosman ’60
When I graduated from the UW, I had everything I needed: a diploma, a diamond ring, and a signed teaching contract. I’d been trained by the best, Russell Hosler, to teach typing. I thought I would teach and retire, while managing a family along the way. I didn’t know much about the power of possibility or letting life create itself.
But about forty-five years into my scripted life, I had a new vision, and I worked with a firm to create and market a product — a scrapbook for saving old handwritten recipes and the stories behind them. I’ve learned a lot in the last two years.
When I graduated from the UW, I had everything I needed: a diploma, a diamond ring, and a signed teaching contract. I’d been trained by the best, Russell Hosler, to teach typing. I thought I would teach and retire, while managing a family along the way. I didn’t know much about the power of possibility or letting life create itself.
But about forty-five years into my scripted life, I had a new vision, and I worked with a firm to create and market a product — a scrapbook for saving old handwritten recipes and the stories behind them. I’ve learned a lot in the last two years.
- I had a lot to learn, mostly about myself. I said many times that I was glad I chose teaching rather than sales, for I didn’t think I could take the pitching of a product or the rejection of losing a sale. It didn’t occur to me that teaching is all about pitching and selling (the five-paragraph essay, algebraic equations, or the mechanics of digestion), and if a teacher doesn’t do it well, the students won’t buy.
- Self-promotion takes a lot of time. You are the best person to promote your project. You believe in it; you breathe it. But, for every minute you’re making calls or speeches, you’re abandoning something or someone else: family and friends, writing, reading, exercising. Sometimes you have to ask, “What do I have to give up today to follow my passion?”
- Fear is real in all its forms. Sometimes, rather than making a pitch, I just eat a Reese’s peanut butter egg or take a nap. It’s just so much simpler. Sometimes I’m afraid that someone will tell me that my idea is dumb, though no one has. Sometimes I’m afraid to succeed (because then I’ll really have to do something — write an article or make a speech or deliver a book). Fear hasn’t conquered me, but I haven’t completely conquered it, either.
- Don’t set your purse in the sink. Once, before I talked to a group of genealogists in Elgin, Illinois, I set my purse in the bowl of an automated sink while I freshened up. What I discovered in seconds was not only a purse full of water, but also a great opening for my speech a few minutes later.
- Bloomington can work. Another time, I was asked to speak to a group of women in Bloomington, Illinois, 150 miles from my house. There was no way I could justify the cost until I coupled the speech with a trip to the Abraham Lincoln Museum in Springfield, accompanied by my sister. That way, I got more for the gig than the money the group could afford to pay.
- Don’t undervalue yourself. We all get to ask for what we need. I no longer tiptoe up to the “Do you have a budget?” question. I know that the work I do has value, and I can ask for a fee. Negotiation also works.
- People will help you. Not everyone will profit from your project, but some will help you anyway. You might want to walk alone, but help is not overrated.
- Don’t mortgage the farm. I know there are people who are willing to live out of their cars in order to follow their dreams. I’m not one of them, so I’m promoting creative thinking. You might have to get up earlier and go to bed later. You might have to get a part-time job while relying on your spouse’s income. I was lucky. I inherited a small amount of money at my mother’s death and chose to invest it in my dream. I could have put the money in the bank and let the dream die. Make a good choice, but it’s really cramped sleeping behind a steering wheel.
What I’ve learned is that you never know what’s in your heart, waiting to bloom. You never know when you will see life’s patterns in a fresh way. You never know who will buy fourteen books and who will buy none. The life I envisioned when I graduated forty-eight years ago is so different from the life I live. I’m seeing better now than I did then … despite the glasses and developing cataracts. So keep your eyes open. You just never know.
Jan Hasselman Bosman ’60 taught high-school English and business for thirty-two years. She lives in Woodstock, Illinois, and sells Memories of Family, Friends, and Food at www.bosmanmemories.com.
If you’re a UW-Madison alumna or alumnus and you’d like the editors to consider an essay for use in On Wisconsin, please send it to WAA@uwalumni.com.
Jan Hasselman Bosman ’60 taught high-school English and business for thirty-two years. She lives in Woodstock, Illinois, and sells Memories of Family, Friends, and Food at www.bosmanmemories.com.
If you’re a UW-Madison alumna or alumnus and you’d like the editors to consider an essay for use in On Wisconsin, please send it to WAA@uwalumni.com.
Events
- Around the World by Private Jet - November 1
- Maui Invitational Basketball Tour - November 21
- Maui/Oahu Football Tour - November 29
- The Florida Everglades - December 6
