Comin' Full Circle Part II

So where was I? Oh yes, whoever that person was who gave me the bus money and instructions to go to the library and look up the bus route out to Birthingway, that person saw hope in me. He gave me specific instructions, and at that point in my life, my self-esteem and self-worth where so incredibly low, I did what he said. I went to the library as soon as they opened and got on a computer. I found that Birthingway was located at 122 and Foster and that I could take the 71 bus from downtown all the way there. I found the 71 bus stop in the park with the statues of the deer and the pioneers and all that, right across from the courthouse, which the homeless camp was located in front of, on the sidewalk. I boarded the bus, feeling excitement and fear, and wondering what that man saw in me that made him think I was a good candidate for midwifery school. I was dirty, wearing a torn, long-sleeved tie-dye shirt and dirty jeans and sneakers, with really nappy, ratty dreds and a big, ugly pink sweater; people used to joke when I was homeless that I was "so dirty none of the animals could smell me, but all the people sure could..." or at least that was one man's comments about me, when I was homeless in Florida.
So the man who gave me the bus fare certainly wasn't basing his option that I might be a midwife someday on looks...but something else he saw that I myself still didn't see...maybe kindness in my eyes, honesty, a willingness to try new things and be adventurous; whatever it was, he saw more then a dirty, pot and meth smoking homeless hippy girl, he saw potential in me somewhere under all the dirty clothes, the crusty hemp jewelry, the shaggy dreds...he must have thought that his dollar and instructions where going to get me somewhere, and somehow, he was right.
When I finally got to Birthingway and stepped off the bus, I was immediately overwhelmed with the good energy from the little farmhouse that stood at 122 and Foster; and at the time, I wasn't really believing that much in good energy; yet regardless, I felt it. I felt overwhelmed and part of me was afraid to go on; afraid to go inside and see if I really wanted this or not, yet something else compelled me inside. I felt suddenly ashamed of my dirty clothes and unwashed self, but I couldn't help but go inside and check out this School of Midwifery, this place of mystery and obviously, good medicine.
So I marched inside, all 5 feet, 4 inches of filth, and went up to the desk that is right inside and asked the person at the desk (I don't remember now if I was greeted by Dawn or Genevieve or someone else,) if I could see the school. I expected the usual reaction you get when you are homeless and you march, dirty, into someplace like a college; a look of shock, staring at the holes in the clothes, something like that. Whoever it was, however, was just very gracious; she said "well there aren't any classes going on right now, so you can't sit in on a class, but I'd be glad to show you around..."
So she did; we saw the kitchen where the students cook meals for each other, we saw the skills room in the basement, we saw the library, the classroom upstairs, the offices...then she brought me back downstairs, gave me some literature on the college and sent me on my way.
I knew, then, that I'd be a Birthingway student eventually; the warmness of the woman who gave the tour had overwhelmed me; nobody treats homeless girls so nicely, I thought. That, combined with the wonderful energy I'd felt there, combined with the fact that the students cooked meals for each other and ate together....well, I was ready to sign up that day! I went to a pay phone to call my mom; I told her I was staying in Portland and attending Birthingway next semester!
"Honey, how will you go to school....you don't have a place to stay...you can't go to school without a place to shower, food on a regular basis, a place to do homework...come home to New York and we'll talk about this..."
This was the beginning of my long journey back to New York to pick up the pieces of my life, so I could eventually come out to Portland to go to Birthingway; I realized mom was right, that it would be impossible to be a homeless college student (or perhaps not impossible, but it would make things a whole lot harder.) So I went back to New York, back to my parents' house, as depressing in some ways as that seemed, it was the right move at the time. I took a labor doula class, and then, after several years eclipsed and I still hadn't attended any births, I took another. Finally, I got invited to the birth of a hippy girl named Acia; her midwife happened to be the esteemed Meg Grinrod; the midwife who helped with Ani DiFranco's birth, anyway, I think watching Meg work with Acia for three days before they finally decided to move Acia to the hospital really sealed the deal for me; Meg worked in what I would later learn is a biodynamic birth model; she kept the labor as nonintervention as possible, she talked to Acia as little as possible, allowing her to move into her primal brain. And the one thing she said to me, which I will probably never forget was; "you wanna be a midwife honey, don't do what I did and go to nursing school first, because you won't need all that medicalized knowledge, jump right into midwifery, I don't use most of the stuff I learned in nursing school anyway...." (At the time, in New York, you had to be a Nurse-Midwife, lately laws have changed so that direct entry midwives can also practice legally there.)
So I took Meg's good advice and remembered my desire to study at Birthingway...and so, here I am. This is skipping quite a few people in between who have helped solidify my desire and given me the courage to continue to Portland and on this path...it has been quite a few years between my first visit to Birthingway, and actually becoming a student there; nowadays, my life as a homeless hippy seems so far away, I can hardly believe that that was actually me. But it was me, and I am so very grateful to all of the folks that have made this possible, and especially, that nameless person who first gave me bus fare and directions to visit the school; whoever he is, I will never forget him.

Love and blessings to all,
Carrot