I Just Pinch Myself, by Susan Larson

If you have read Frank McCourt’s book, Angela’s Ashes, you might have some idea of my childhood. While we never went out to the train tracks to pick up coal for heat, we experienced a life very similar.  My father was an alcoholic who died drunk on the couch,  discovered by my brother who never recovered and took his own life at twenty-seven. My mother had serious health issues and when my father died, I can only imagine the family conferences that led us to move from Seattle, WA to a tiny burg in MS to be near my father’s family. There is a lot written about the oldest child and that was me. I seem to have a strength and stubbornness that has served me well over the years.

While we lived a life of deprivation, my mother’s family, who were quite well off, provided extra support at times and my father’s family was our physical anchor. My maternal grandfather sold school textbooks although we never had a television, we had books. Our set of World Books became my window to the world. Little did I know, at the time, that I would see much of what fascinated me in my escapism.

Statistically, I should be waitressing at a truck stop, living in a trailer, snaggle-toothed, and raising my grandchildren.  My mother signed for me to get married at sixteen, mainly out of fear I would turn up pregnant. No one expected much from me.

So while there was a lot wrong in my life, I was fortunate to be in MS, the advent of EEOC, and the women’s movement. My bold nature combined with a strong work ethic helped me to flourish when I moved to to the capital with my first husband. In those days, married girls couldn’t attend regular school, so I went to night school where I met a life-long friend, just like myself. She later started a home health care company and became a millionaire. We were also lucky because we had a sympathetic and understanding teacher, Mrs. Price, who never looked down on us as many did. From there I started taking night college classes, giving me more confidence.

About that time, 1969, a young woman I knew told me there was an opening at the Mississippi State Medical Association, the state branch of the AMA, for a clerk typist in the CHAMPUS department, a government program for health care for military personnel. I told her, I can’t really type well and she laughed and said don’t worry it is sending out form letters! My life turned around at that point and seven years later I was the Manager of the claims department and seen as an expert on physician billing and payment. We had a physician committee that met monthly to review and recommended payment for claims that fell outside of the parameters and I was in charge of that entire process. At times I would almost pinch myself in disbelief.

Since this was a government program, it came up for bid every few years, and suddenly, Blue Cross and Blue Shield of MS, won the bid and I was going to be out of a job. This was around 1977 and the women’s lib movement was in full swing but other forces were at work that I was not aware of until later. Out of the blue, I got a call from the Director of the Professional and Provider Relations Department from Blue Cross of MS and he wanted to take me to lunch, Over lunch, he asked if I would consider being the Provider Relations Rep for the CHAMPUS program as they needed someone for that role. This would entail having an area of the state to be in charge of handling billing problems for not only CHAMPUS but Medicare, Medicaid, and all regular Blue Cross policies and audits of billings. This would involve overnight travel as well as conducting formal and informal workshops for hospitals, physician offices, and even military bases. I was the first woman in this job as at the time, women just did not do these sorts of things in MS. A company car and an expense account were mine. I still remember the first out-of-town trip, driving down the highway with my suitcase in the back and hotel reservations…I was very afraid but I didn’t let myself show it. I pinched myself over and over.

A few years later a Director position for approximately half of the Blue Cross claims department was posted and I was approached about applying for the job. At the time the company had new leadership and they decided to bring new blood into the claims department; the changes were monumental. What I didn’t know then was that a group of long-time women managers had filed a class action suit against BC/BS of Ms because the officers were a male-only club. So the company was under a federal mandate to promote women and hire minorities. I still can’t believe my luck and being where I was at that point in time. The flood gates opened and the women who filed the suit were all promoted to officer positions and other young women were hired into management positions. But we still had to prove ourselves.

One young woman, I hired as a manager became the first woman president of BC/BS of MS, retiring recently. Another woman who was hired went on to found a mental health peer review corporation and retired a millionaire. We were all bold and brash. We had to be to endure the snide comments from men around us about how “I worked for everything I got” and “no one ever gave me a job because of a quota.” And the less generous remarks of getting promotions on “our backs.” 

None of us were successful in marriage because we didn’t take a back seat to any man. At that time I met my last husband who was a co-worker and had a Ph.D. in Health Care Administration. We married and he decided to leave corporate America and teach at the university level. He was offered several positions but accepted one at the University of Arizona in Tucson. As the wife of a faculty member, I was able to complete my degree for free. So, while the marriage didn’t last, I earned my college degree at age thirty-nine and a whole new world opened up to me. I still pinch myself.

On the move again, my first teaching job was in Palm Springs, CA, which was a huge school of over 3,600 students. There were many ancillary Hollywood people raising families in Palm Springs, John Belushi and Dan Ackroyd were frequent guests at one student’s home, but we also had a lot of Mexican migrants who were regularly rounded up by “La immigration”. This was a real lesson in privilege. I never expected to be homesick for MS, but I was, so I returned. For a time I worked in government health care management but soon found I missed teaching and took a job in an inner-city school in Jackson, a far cry from Palm Springs.

One day at school in the staff lounge, I heard that there were international teaching jobs overseas and all of my childhood daydreams of far-off places, visited only in the pages of the World Book, came into focus. Like many in the international teaching circuit, I found my first job in a dodgy school in Cairo but it was a great experience and that led to a twenty-year career teaching in Cairo, Abu Dhabi, Sri Lanka, China, and finally in Beirut. Over those years I taught the children of ambassadors, journalists, NGO leaders, and world business leaders, interacting with them routinely. Still brash and bold and still pinching myself.

When it came time for retirement, I knew there really wasn’t a place for me in the US. I had certainly outgrown my MS roots, they never were very strong, and the increasing bias in the US against Muslims and people of color meant I was certain to find myself embroiled in conflict.  Ajijic is perfect because I am surrounded by so many women who have overcome great obstacles and succeeded against all odds. I still pinch myself.