Persistance

Attending The Culinary Institute Of America raises certain questions for me. How to pay for it, as it is roughly a cumulative cost of 61,000, is certainly among the most pressing. My plan on that, to paraphrase the title of a Clint Eastwood film, is every which way I can. A loan based on my vehicle would get me roughly a third of the way there and, if I sacrificed some vacation and renovation plans I upon which I was working I'd be about seventy five percent of the way there. Student loans, scholarships, grants, and the like are also options which I will explore. Another question it raises is whether or not I'll be able to make it through the program, if accepted. This question is one I find far less pressing, although I've certainly had to deal with some naysayers on the subject. While I am aware that the school is quite demanding, I am also confident that I've done everything in my power to make sure I understand as much about the school and what will be expected of me before I attend. By doing this, I can mentally and physically prepare myself as much as possible in the months leading up to my first semester. Even though I take the school and the challenges attending it will present with the utmost seriousness, I am not afraid.

Let's go into what I know will be expected of me. First, I must have my complete uniform of chef's jacket, checks, apron, side towels, and hat on at all times during which I am in the kitchen. Second, the only permitted answer to a request by a chef instructor is, "Yes chef." Even if I suspect I may struggle with what is being asked of me because of autism or inexperience, I will try like my life depends on it to follow orders immediately and precisely. Third, I must learn to cooperate with my classmates for the sake of making the bakeshop function properly. Admittedly, I had trouble with that in my last culinary school, but I am not going to let that stop me in this one. Besides, we'll all have gotten into the best culinary school in the world and I am confident that any personality clashes I have with my classmates will be ones we are all willing to put aside in service of the food. Whatever difficulties I must face at CIA, I that I won't quit. That's not idle talk either, but a fact proven by the fact that I so loved my dessert company that I stayed at it, operating long past the point where reason and finances would insist I throw in the towel. That's tenacity of a special kind. Basically, I don't care if it kills me, I am going to graduate from CIA. Period.

After everything I've said about dogged persistence, I suppose the ultimate question is, "Why are you doing this you crazy bastard?" It's a fair question. Couldn't I learn a lot of this from CIA textbooks, as I have done in the past? Besides, aside from a casual verbal agreement I have with the new owners of my company, there aren't any job prospects for me out there, even with a CIA degree, because of the limitations placed on me by autism. So why? Why come up with all this money, go through a grueling culinary program, and risk failure while your own family tries to talk you out of it? Well, the core of it is, I think, because it's the first passion I've felt for something since my company failed. Sitting around writing on my blog, often about the state of managing life as a failure and disabled man, isn't exactly something to sing about. What's my obit going to say one day? "Frank Bailey never did much with his life. A disabled man, he lived off his family until his death, survived by no one." What is money, effort, and risk of failure compared to that prospect? I don't want to die as that man. Maybe I'll grow enough at CIA to become employable, who knows? Even if not, however, I'll have done something to sing about.

-Frank