Rach in real life

A few days ago I had the pleasure of meeting a family from church for the first time. My dad, brother, and I went to their home and ate dinner. It was my chance to define myself as something other than the far-away first daughter… that one punk from the pictures… or, as their oldest put it, “That tiny girl next to Angela (my sister).” I seem to be doing that a lot lately. I suppose that’s what happens when you hit that weird transitory stage where home stops being home because you’ve got all your socks in a dresser that is 750 miles away… and then you come back.

During dinner, I sat at the kids table, where I was the oldest by about 4 1/2 years. Most of the time eating was simultaneously spent answering questions about college and de-mystifying the weirdness of BYU. They were completely enthralled by my firsthand accounts of the university life. How cute is that? Yeah, I was one cool kid at that table…

Then, dessert came around and I decided to sit with the adults and put in my two cents about Google and dry parent conversation favorites. The conversation dwindled and they were ready to learn about what then heck I’ve done with myself for the past 4 years. The second Technology and Engineering Education slipped out of my mouth, a very glorious aha moment occurred as two colleagues in “the field” were realized. The dad then spouted forth a very enthusiastic and copious knowledge of robotics in education. The mom was clearly entertained as I’m guessing it had been a while since she’d seen her husband in his “zone” in front of houseguests. Admittedly, robotics is not my forte, but I might know a thing or two (let’s be honest, a half of a thing) about them. The kids filed in to see what the ruckus was, and noticed that the cool kid was talking nerd with their stepdad. The conversation was way over most of the group’s head, and of course, I became a subject of friendly mocking because I was in the know.

It was then that they and I realized the odd contradiction here. Designer jeans. Skateboard. Fine taste in music. Cool girl. Talking with dad about robots?!?! Solenoids… What??!!? Welding!?!? Full-on NERD. “Does not compute,” their puzzled faces said.

I was able to redeem myself by telling their oldest that my major was awesome because I don’t know of many other majors where you can light your classroom on fire doing something you shouldn’t be doing… and not get in trouble… and still get an A on the project. Break it, paint it, steal it now…. ask forgiveness when the A is in the book. In addition I tacked on that when it’s all said and done, I’m an artist. I learned the nerdy stuff because I had to. I also happen to like it, and I’m OK with being a nerd. I was cool again.

[RACHEL]