Most of the people who happen to read this will already be relatively familiar with my history, but for the sake of this exercise, I may as well present a brief outline of my years and milestone experiences for posterity.
Thus, my highlights include:
Born March 11th, 1990 in Worcester, Massachusetts, the son of Bobby and Nancy Brown, I was ushered into the realm of the living from the abyss of pre-life, that place of conditions unknown. Variously moved around between towns in New England up until the time I was eight, I lived first with my mother, and then with my father after her passing. In the second grade on career day I filled in "My name is Kevin Brown and I live in Warwick, Rhode Island. When I grow up I want to be a Second Grade Teacher." This moment stands out to me for two reasons, the first being that it is my earliest recollection of wanting to teach, and the second being that what the hell kind of messed-up second grader wants to be a school teacher? What happened to Astronaut, Kev? Football player? Superhero? Nope - not for you, apparently, even at seven years ld you were prepared to wear a sweater and talk about Wordsworth for a living.
I identify my move from New England to Glen Rock, New Jersey as one of the pivotal moments in my life thus far. Aside from my mother's passing, it has perhaps shaped the consequences of my life more than any other event I've encountered; and contrary to it, it signaled the entry into my life of not only a new mother - Barbara - but a whole new slew of family. My time in Glen Rock's bubble shaped me socially (it was hard moving around so often as a kid), intellectually (I was always a weirdo who 'liked school'), and ethically (my first job at Kilroy's Wonder Market taught me a lot). It was strange not having friends in GR that I had known since birth, as so many of my new friends had. Yet I feel like I did pretty well, and I account my extroverted personality not only to that of my father's but also my frequent moving around when I was younger.
I attribute my love of English literature to Barbara, who got me reading when I was about twelve or thirteen. Like a machine I devoured fantasy fiction novels about magic, elves, and battles by Terry Brooks and Raymond E. Feist until, one day, I read Frankenstein and started wanting to read what I referred to at the time (and still do) as 'Real Literature.' Not that I don't enjoy popular fiction, but I just don't see its place alongside Shakespeare. From there roughly developed my idea of becoming an English teacher.
My acceptance in F&M lead me irrevocably down the path which my father tread in 1965, and yet I'm quite sure my experience there has been nothing like his (it's co-ed now, for one thing). My time on the rowing team, as a writing tutor, and fraternity boy has given me multiple perspectives on college life which I somehow try to reconcile (not always possible).
Finally, I would say that even if I do not totally appreciate it now, my time in Europe for these five months will probably end up affecting greatly. Whereas on January 3rd I had only been in America (though rather well-traveled there) and Canada, I will have additionally been through Scotland, England, Germany, France, and Italy by May 30th, and possibly more. My poetry has certain developed during my time in the UK, as has my scope of interest in writers. The people I've met here have also affected me, and not just those from the UK. I've met a slew of Americans I'll be keeping in touch with as well, and I now feel much better connected along the East coast than when I left.
I'll leave out girlfriends and such in detail, but it's safe to say that just as my perceptions of writing, working, traveling, family, &c have changed, so have mine of women.
But where does that place me? Let's see.
For the sake of comparison I've picked four people, two living, two dead, to compare with my first twenty-one years: Bill Clinton, Prince William, Robert Louis Stevenson, and Jesus.
As far as parentage goes, Bill was the son of a salesman, William a Prince, Stevenson a lighthouse engineer, and Jesus, God (but raised by a carpenter). I'd say that being the son of two college professors puts me somewhere closer to Bill and Stevenson.
Academically, Bill studied foreign service at Georgetown, William art history and geography at St. Andrews, Stevenson engineering at Ediburgh, and Jesus never went to college, but did question the high priests when he was like nine, so he clearly knew his stuff. Having studied at Franklin and Marshall and Edinburgh, I'd say I fall with Stevenson again, falling only slightly below Prince William. Not sure if I was born with any divinely endowed knowledge so can't factor Jesus in here. Georgetown's ranked higher than F&M, but I did better on the SAT than Bill by 230 points.
Assessing my interests and involvements, both Stevenson and I share literary passions. He was also a traveler, first for fun and then for his health. Stevenson was first published at 23. I have never been included in any significant publication, but I do not want to marginalize the high school and college journals I've contributed to, either. Prince William began his studies as an Art History major, and I absolutely deplore it. Bill and I both ran for class president, only he lost. Jesus was involved in many leadership roles, and I was the treasurer of my fraternity last year, as well as student member of Glen Rock's Board of Education for two years. I'd say we share those interests. he should have looked into the fraternity thing, though - turning water into wine would have seriously cut costs.
Economically I'd say I rank more closely with Stevenson and Clinton as a youth. We can't all be sons of Gods and Kings.
Overall, I guess I'm doing pretty well in terms of Stevenson. I have a ways to go socio-economically in terms of Prince William, politically in terms of Clinton, and religiously in terms of Jesus (Am I Catholic or Jewish? It is possible to be both? Neither?) I'm happy with where I am. I'm killer at interviews, easy at making friends, and have stocked up enough self-confidence to wear both the mask of the Romantic poet and red-cup wielding frat boy.
I had to renew my passport before I came to Edinburgh. The next time I have to renew it is 2021 - ten years from now. It struck me when I received my new passport that those tens years - age 20 to 30 - usually hold the biggest events of most people's lives: college graduation, career acquisition and possibly more formal education, marriage, perhaps children. In 2021, when I'm filling out my passport renewal application, will I be Mr. Brown of the English department, on my way home to Mrs. Brown, perhaps to check my email in my house's study, where another degree hangs on the wall next to my F&M one?
When I'm forty-two, with this coming Friday marking out the fulcrum of my life, the world will be a completely different place.
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