My favorite episode of The Waltons is called “The Achievement.” It’s the episode where John Boy finds out his first novel is going to be published. It’s also the last episode that Richard Thomas appeared in as John Boy with the exception of a couple of guest appearances in later seasons. At the end of the episode, John Boy reveals to his family that he is moving to New York City to continue his writing career. It’s a poignant reminder that life moves on and that we have to be willing to take big steps to find big rewards. It’s my favorite episode because at one time I believed it was possible. Not anymore.
This is my final blog post. I really don’t have anything else to say and even if I did, no one reads. When I headed off to TCU in August I was happy and excited. I believed, naively, that I was taking the first step into the rest of my life. I believed that over the two years it would take me to complete my masters degree I would learn not only to better teach writing, but to be a better writer. What I learned instead is that I am, at best, a mediocre talent and that few people aside from people who already know me have much interest in knowing me enough to read what I write. I am disappointed, but at least I figured out the truth before I traveled too far down the road to turn back. I am not a writer.
As I look around and see many of my friends moving on with their lives and doing great things, I find myself, once again, playing the familiar role of ne’er-do-well who does nothing that has any real impact in the world. I have many talents and there are many people who remind me of my many talents. I write. I sing. I play piano. I am a great organizer. But, when it comes time to put all of those talents to work, none of those people who tell me how talented I am seem willing to help me put them to good use. Even those of you reading this blog right now have never bothered to share this blog with your friends. I have asked…hell, I’ve practically begged you to share the blog, but you don’t. So, I am left only to assume that your words do not mean anything.
I know what you’re thinking: “Wow! Jason sounds bitter.” You’re damn right I’m bitter. Since I was in school my talents and abilities have been looked over time and time again in favor of the talents of people who have the right name; who look better; or, who have more money. My talents have been ignored and discounted. I am left to watch people I know get praised (and paid) for doing things that I can do better — or at least just as well. I am left to assume only one thing: my destiny is mediocrity.
So, this is it. You’re reading the last words I’ll write that anyone other than me will ever read. I’m comfortable with what I know now. I’m disappointed, but I’m comfortable. Good luck to all of you in all that you do. May you have people in your life who do more than pay lip service to your talents and abilities.