Woman Gets Education In Self-Worth
Each time someone stomped on Linda Miles, she rose and moved forward with the resiliency of a cartoon character. Eventually, she left the falling anvils behind.
She’s 28 now and should be tired from her struggles, but she’s too busy. She’s raising three boys, juggling two jobs, finishing homework and proving something to herself.
“I never thought I could go this far,” she says. “I’ll have a bachelor’s degree in social work next year and I thought just getting an associate’s degree would be a miracle.”
North Idaho College’s Foundation is so impressed with Linda that it’s using her story this month to encourage donors. She’s a wise choice. She earned her associate’s degree last spring at NIC and moved on to Lewis Clark State College this year.
College never occurred to Linda when she was in high school. She had no family support. She drank anything she could find to forget her childhood. She didn’t think of the future.
“I’d just sit in class and cry,” she says as if talking about someone else. “I was on a mission to drink myself to death.”
She grew up with six siblings and nearly as many stepfathers in a family so poor she began working in the fruit orchards around Wenatchee when she was 7. Linda was 12 when she and her sisters reported to police the sexual abuse they’d suffered in their house.
The next few years, she jumped from one foster family to another, disconnected from her sisters, friends, school. Finally, at 16, Linda moved into her own apartment in Bonners Ferry.
Instinct kept her in school through graduation despite her depression and drinking. She worked at night, married an abusive man and had three children by the time she was 21.
Instinct also steered her into counseling at 23. Her friends admired her sense and urged her to go to college. Linda didn’t believe any college would want her, and applied to North Idaho College to prove it. Instead, she was offered full financial aid.
School quickly became so important to her that she hitchhiked from Bonners Ferry to NIC for two weeks after the family car was repossessed. Even five months hiding with her boys in Coeur d’Alene’s battered-women’s shelter didn’t keep her from class.
“I felt like I was worthless and I came to NIC and passed my first four classes. Well, I couldn’t get enough after that,” she says.
Linda marvels at NIC.
“My friends think I’m a flake because I think NIC is so good,” she says. “But when I look back and realize how pathetic I was when I got here. I thought I couldn’t do anything, was fat, stupid … “
NIC teachers encouraged her to speak her opinion, helped her develop confidence, treated her with respect and courtesy, recognized her potential.
Her troubles aren’t gone yet, but they’re manageable. She’s divorced and raising her boys alone. Between work and classes she’s often gone 16 hours a day while friends watch her boys. When she’s home, she’s tired and needs to study.
“I carry a lot of guilt. I’m not there to help with their homework,”she says. But her optimism quickly takes over as she thinks of the job her degree will help her find. “I can’t imagine my life without education. I feel like a person now, a real person.”
Nature’s call
Lake City High librarian Bill Kinder has divided the school’s football field into one-yard sections and wants people to pick where his cow will relieve herself, starting at 1:30 p.m. this Saturday. Crazy. Each guess costs $2. The money will buy library materials. Whoever picks the right plop spot will win $1,000. Seems worth a call to Bill at 769-0769.
What’s your best cow story? Moo it to Cynthia Taggart, “Close to Home,” 608 Northwest Blvd., Suite 200, Coeur d’Alene, ID 83814; fax to 765-7149; call 765-7128; or e-mail to cynthiat@spokesman.com.
, DataTimes ILLUSTRATION: Color Photo