LESSONS FROM THE LADDER
by Julia Browne

I’ve been up and down the ladder of success so many times, I’m getting dizzy.
The first time I climbed, I literally flew to the skies in my dream job as a flight attendant, great while it lasted but massive layoffs after four years sent me spiraling back down to the first rungs.  What I found at the bottom was an opportunity to go study in the south of France while the airline diddled with my future.  They did call me back but by then I was having too much fun rediscovering the rewards and challenges of building friendships and relationships on a day-to-day basis, not just in-between flights.  And then of course there were the accelerated French classes through the language of love…

Lesson #1 - The grass is sometimes greener on the other side - don’t be afraid to check it out.
I found my feet inching up those rungs again a few years later when I pushed my interest in photography into film promotion.  By then I was living the bohemian life on the Boulevard St. Laurent - rue Prince Arthur axis in Montreal where tout le gang of the up-and-coming artsy crowd indulged in difficult films, nouvelle cuisine, and living room-style night clubs.  Working for a film co-op I took it as my altruistic duty to show off the little gems of the Canadian indie scene, which helped me detect the issues and wildly varying forms of self-expression particular to the different geographical regions of this country.  There was a price to pay for all that inspiration though… I ended up making a film of my own and the surprise of hearing my own voice tripped me up and I skidded back down that ladder again.  

Down at the bottom? It wasn’t enough to have a good idea, I had to articulate it into the jargon that the corporate film funders spoke then in all that double-talk find the heat and pulse of my original idea again. A lesson in staying true to oneself while getting what you need.

Lesson #2 - Even when your knuckles go raw from knocking on the door, someone will eventually open up.
Time for a break.  In February 1990 my French husband and I sold most of our belongings and, with one trunk and two suitcases, headed back to the land of 365 cheeses and painfully few elevators.   Paris provided a whole new climbing structure, an inverted Eiffel Tower really.  Opportunities looked pretty slim on the ground but step-by-step I branched out into ESL teaching and tourism. 

Funny thing about just transplanting into a foreign country though: your diplomas sometimes cover holes in the wall better than they help you cover the rent.  In other words I had to become creative about survival, find new avenues and unsuspected talents. So there I was relearning my native tongue in order to teach it and grappling with French at the same time.  But then I also discovered and shared around a passion for African-American history in Paris. I started my own tourism business walking people through American and French history in a city I now considered my home.  Neither of these I would have imagined or been led intuitively to develop had I stayed in Canada.

I was convinced I’d taken a flying leap straight up from the top of the ladder when people identified me from a picture in the Wall Street Journal.  But then did someone mention a hitch?  It happens. I burned out like Icarus who ventured too close to his personal sun and couldn’t take the heat. I repacked that one trunk and two suitcases (one for each child by now) and parked the lot back in Kitchener. 

Lesson #3 - What goes up must come down, how hard you crash depends on how much ego you’re willing to ditch on the way down.
My new ladder here was called ‘going back to school’ and I inched my way towards a new career goal: broadcast journalism.  They say having kids at an older age keeps you young, well so does hitting the books with students literally half your age but I hiked up those rungs with the best of their young muscles and motivation. I even managed to pick up a national award for interviewing along the way.  Graduation felt particularly sweet and a damn relief.   The view from the top however was far from clear. 

In Canada, I had usually pointed my goal finger and headed for it.  In France I’d followed my nose, or intuition.  Now back in Canada which method to use?  For the first time in my life I hesitated before reaching for my due.  What I wanted was to roll my eclectic experiences into a neat ball and offer it to the world of radio or TV but how, none of the conventional avenues seemed to fit.  But just as I hesitated so did that very world I fixed my hopes on.  All summer I sent out resumes, diligently followed up with phone calls, wrote proposals but by summer’s end I was eating more spaghetti than steak, walking more often than wasting gas.  Something was amiss.  I found myself far from any ladder at all.

Lesson #4 - You hope you bounce upwards when you hit the ground but sometimes you just keep going on through the false bottom - but that’s not always a bad trip.
My next choices were prompted by something completely new to me: necessity.  I took up volunteer reporting for Rogers Television.  The need to fill here was emerging from behind the camera, microphone and words of others to put my own face on my own words - a terrifying prospect. But I did it and as immeasurably rewarding as that work was, a greater necessity prevailed.  Lack of finances made me step off that ladder altogether.

I took a job, considered way out in left field for this college-educated world-traveler .  For six weeks I straightened up toys, led customers to the objects of their kid’s desires, took in their cash, debit, and credit.  But the most revealing part of that job was connecting with a level of people I never would have if I’d remained hovering in my upper stratosphere.  A19-year old suffering back problems due to overindulgence in the drug ecstasy.  A 20-year old struggling to keep the respect of her 6 and 4 year old while piling up overtime to fill out the bottom of their Christmas tree, a young guy who sweet talks women customers then snarls ‘you women’ at the slightest frustration with female employees, but then there was there was the dedication of a young manager protectively passionate about ‘his’ store, the 15-year veteran who would skip a break to advise a customer.  No two of us in that store would place ourselves on the same rung of the personal success ladder yet in our puzzled but divergent life experiences I fit in neatly right alongside them.  The right attitude opened my eyes.

Lesson # 5 - A microwaved can of ravioli tastes just as good in on the lower rungs as it does up at the top - the point is to put a name to the hunger and fill up on what you need wherever it’s offered.
Where am I now?  I’m back in television, one foot firmly gripping the rung in front of me one hand reaching for the next.   I’m building my own ladder these days, defined by what lessons and insights I pick up along the way because they will determine what’s waiting at the top.
 I’m going to take it slower - I’m little wiser I hope, a few more calluses on the soul but still ready to rock ‘n roll.

Hear some of my Paris reflections on :  www.cbc.ca/outfront   broadcast February 26, 2004 now found in the Out-front archives.

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