When I was young, 1 had no idea what I wanted to do. The choices were thin. It was assumed (假定的) that I'd go to college, and after that I could be a mom. I could be a secretary. I could be a nurse or a teacher. If anyone asked, I said I wanted to be a writer. Even I knew that wasn't a real job. Mostly, I didn't think about it.
But just as I was coming of age, a world of possibility opened up. By the time I graduated from college with a science degree, I still didn't know what I wanted to do. And one day, after seeing a notice in the paper, I remembered there was something I'd wanted to do, once. It sounded fun, so I took the test to be a mail carrier. The new Postal Service was bylaw an inclusive group. If you got a good enough score, you were in.
It was an older woman conducting (执行) my fitness entry exam who was the first to dis-agree. This wasn't a job for a girl, she said. And I shouldn't take a man's job away from him. He has a family to support. Despite that poor assumed man's family, I became one of perhaps a dozen female carriers in the whole city of Portland. Oregon.
On the street, I was a novelty (新奇的人). I didn't go a single day without hearing some friendly words: Well, I guess we can't call you the mailman, can we? We'll have to call you the mail-woman! Those particular words somehow appeared naturally in thousands of minds at once. My existence received attention. It's hard to imagine now.
Thirty-two years later I retired into a very different world. Being a retired mail carrier is even more fun than being a mail carrier. And finally, I get to be a writer. It's still not really a job.
