GOALS.

One day in third grade, we had a lesson on GOALS, written boldly on the whiteboard in squeaky blue marker. “GOALS,” my teacher warbled, “are very important. You can’t accomplish anything unless you first establish some GOALS.”

I had never heard this, or if I had, I didn’t know that it was so terribly important. I knew that I certainly didn’t have any GOALS. I listened intently, trying to understand this important concept to which I had somehow never been exposed.

My teacher explained further. “You should be able to measure how far you’ve come in accomplishing your GOALS, to check your progress.” I understood this, ok, fine. “Now let’s everybody write down three long-term GOALS. Make sure you have checkpoints. The checkpoints are like mini goals, and every mini goal should lead up to your main GOAL. It’s good to have a checkpoint once a week or once a month, depending on how long your GOAL will take.”

I got out a fresh piece of paper, a sharpened pencil, and stared at my fingernails. My heart began racing and my face flushed in panic, as it always does when confronted with a task I have no idea how to complete. I had no GOALS! My third grade self couldn’t think of any thing I needed to set a goal for, especially not one that would take months to complete. A month in third-grade Catherine time was...well, it was impossible. I concentrated really hard, trying to think of something that I needed to improve about myself, something that would take a long, long time, like a month. Maybe I could make a GOAL to ride my bike faster. Or maybe I could make a GOAL to read more books. I recognized that both these GOALS were very silly and not really measurable, and it seemed like cheating to make a GOAL of something that I would do anyway, regardless of checkpoints.

I don’t remember what I wrote down for my goals, but I do remember that it was basically BS. It is the first time I remember making something up to accomplish a task, just because I knew that if I didn’t write anything down, I would get a bad grade, or, worse, come off as thinking that I was already perfect and didn’t need to set any GOALS. (Even at this age, I was aware that humility is a virtue that will always eventually work in your favor.) I was a good kid, and an impeccable student who got hot, sweaty palms if there was even a chance that I was unprepared for a class, an assignment, a presentation. (Until I got to college and realized that I could procrastinate and still get straight A's...) I was afraid my teacher would see that my GOALS were counterfeit, and then I’d have to admit that I had made them up, or that I didn’t really have any. I would have to think on my feet. I hate thinking on my feet.

But she didn’t see through my fake goals, and I’m sure no one ever thought about my GOALS after that day, but for the next few years I felt anxious dread whenever I thought about my lack of GOALS, because what if I never accomplished anything with my life because of my distinct lack of GOALS? Was I doomed to failure because I simply didn’t know WHAT to do? Did a successful person like the President make more GOALS as a third-grader than I did?

Clearly, I have accomplished some things in my life, whether or not I had clear GOALS: sometimes I did and sometimes I didn’t. Mostly, I think I trust my gut more than my to-do list and mostly, it works out, because my gut usually self-organizes and creates a mental to-do list which threatens me with that anxious dread if not immediately addressed.

And yesterday when I thought, “I really want to write a decent op-ed and get published somewhere,” my 3rd grade teacher’s thick, quivery voice echoed in my head: “You can’t accomplish anything unless you first establish some GOALS.”

So, internet, here’s my GOAL. It doesn’t have checkpoints yet, and I hope it won’t take months, but I intend to write more, an op-ed, to get into a newspaper or a magazine, something modest, but something I can use as a checkpoint for a grander goal, because seventeen years later my GOALS (always, always capitalized in my mind) are too numerous to mention, and some of the harder ones require some sort of published accomplishment. I want to improve my Arabic, become a *real* tanguera, keep a cleaner apartment and a stricter budget, go to Argentina and gradauate school, pray more, read more nonfiction, get published, write better poetry and more letters (combined, if possible), improve my photography, keep up my French, get a decent 6 pack or at least a 4 pack (don’t laugh), be a better sister, daughter, friend, girlfriend, neighbor...

You can be my checkpoint. Next time you see me, ask me how my GOALS are coming along. And when my op-ed is published, you can be sure it’ll be on this blog and you, my checkpoints, will receive due credit. Checkpoints really do make it so much easier.