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By Liz Quirin

'First Days' Always to Be Treasured

Do you remember your first real job, the place you were hired to do what you had been trained to do, either by education or vocation? Did you “read the room” to savor those first impressions, those first introductions? Butterflies may have mixed with curiosity so that a pulsing energy flowed through and around you. My son is having his “first day” today. It could be any day, or every day, but it’s definitely “today.”

We checked and double checked the amount of time it would take to make the journey from his place to the plant. We talked about nervous energy and the clothes he would wear. It was exciting to be invited to share this “first” experience with him.

It reminded me of many first experiences of my own — as a teacher, a journalist, a mother. So many times in different countries around the world, I experienced “firsts” that won’t soon be forgotten. When I landed in Bosnia and met with a former Serbian military chief transformed into a school principal, I remember wondering where, in a war-torn city with many hungry people, he had found the cashmere topcoat he was wearing. “Nice coat,” I said when I met him. The groans from American military personnel accompanying me to the interview were almost audible. Things went well, I remember thinking, in spite of the heated discussion that took place. It was my first, and only encounter with people who had orchestrated ethnic cleansing of Croats and Muslims in that part of the country.

Some of the most poignant firsts occurred when I met elderly campasinos in Guatemala and sat on dirt floors to share conversation with them. Those were inspiring moments to be cherished and remembered when the culture of materialism and consumerism overtake me, when institutions become more important than the people they have been created to serve.

In this, our real lives, we need to celebrate more, to look around at all of the wonderful people we have to share our moments of joy and triumph, our times of frustration and impatience, our sorrows and disappointments. For it is these people who make all of those times not only bearable but worthwhile. Can you imagine what life would be like to be unable to share whatever happens during your day with someone else? Talking to yourself or your pet just doesn’t work. What matters here is the opportunity to share not only information but emotional support. It can be life saving in the moment it is given and received.

This will be a long, short day for all of us waiting to hear about a “first day” on the job. The message will be translated a dozen times to those of us who care about this young man. Today is the first day of the rest of his life, and mine too. Tomorrow will be the same for all of us because every day can, and should be a “first day” to begin again.