First Person

From Financial Aid to Fatherhood

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By David Latessa

As I dance with my 6-month-old daughter to coax her into a nap and afford me time to write the column that I have been procrastinating, I wonder what I would be doing now if I had not recently left New Haven, Conn., and a job at Yale University for Westfield, N.J., and the position of temporary stay-at-home dad.

As a counselor in Yale's Student Financial Services Center, I would most likely be fielding questions from frustrated callers. Instead, I admire the precious bundle in my arms, her thumb making its way to her mouth, a sure sign of an imminent nap. In place of office attire, I am wearing shorts, the same pair as yesterday, and have chosen again to make footwear an optional part of my wardrobe.

As Sophie's eyes begin to droop, I reflect on our decision to move when my wife was informed that her job in Connecticut was being relocated to New Jersey. It was a difficult decision because we loved living in New Haven and because we would be moving two hours further from Sophie's doting grandparents in Massachusetts.

As for my job, while tightening the purse strings to live off of my smaller salary was a possibility, I frankly felt that I didn't love my job well enough to justify staying. We ultimately decided to take on New Jersey as a new adventure, and in the midst of the July heat wave, three surprisingly thin yet strong movers arrived to load box after box of items we had accumulated in our five years in New Haven onto an enormous truck.

With Sophie now asleep on my shoulder, I think about the colleagues I have left behind in the trenches at Yale, a team of dedicated counselors who will field extra calls until the slow process of filling my vacant office is complete. I certainly miss them, but do I really miss the job itself?

And if I don't, shouldn't I then look at this move as a blessing in disguise, an opportunity to pursue other options when I begin my job search here in New Jersey? Couldn't my financial-aid experience translate into something other than another financial aid position? Wouldn't it be too good to be true if I were able to parlay my passion for writing into a career?

I place my daughter gently into her crib and creep down the stairs, valiantly bypassing the couch and the television remote, to arrive at my awaiting laptop that I resurrected only this morning from one of the lingering moving boxes. I have a one-hour window at best to contemplate the questions racing through my mind.

As is true of many people who wind up in financial aid, save those who begin as work-study students and never leave, my path into the world of Pell Grants and Stafford Loans was a meandering one.

When I graduated from Holy Cross College in Worcester, Mass., in 1992, I began a job with a "Big Six" firm in Boston. As an economics-accounting major, I was proud to have a steady job and a good starting salary right out of the college gates. I realized quickly, however, that the CPA track was not the path for me.

If I had allowed myself to look beyond the prestige of having a job in a lean market, I might have admitted that realization to myself even before I began. Instead, propelled by the congratulations of friends and family and the potential for big paydays, I donned the necessary drab suit and white shirt and reported for duty.

Finding the organization too big and the work too impersonal, I immediately rued my decision. I was an idealistic graduate from a Jesuit college who had a liberal-arts education in addition to my knowledge of debits and credits. I wanted to do something different, something that would help people and leave me more fulfilled.

So after only a month on the job, I fell off the CPA track and quit. After my early exit from the corporate world, I decided I wanted to teach. Both of my parents had been teachers, I loved children, and I always envisioned myself in front of a classroom. I was lucky enough to land a 7th-grade position at a private school in North Attleboro, Mass. I say lucky because although I was making a third of my previous salary with no benefits, living back home with Mom and Dad, and working most nights to prepare for the next day, I was happy.

After a fulfilling year in the classroom, I had to decide whether I wanted to go back to school for my teaching certificate. While I enjoyed my teaching experience, I was not ready to make that type of commitment just yet and I fell into a job at a satellite campus of Fisher College, a two-year institution in Boston.

Fisher was my first foray into the financial-aid arena and my experience there propelled me into a financial-aid position at the University of Massachusetts at Dartmouth. After two years there, I accepted a position as an assistant director in the financial-aid office at Suffolk University in Boston.

While at Suffolk, I earned my master's in education, received a promotion to associate director, and married a college friend turned sweetheart. I spent five years at the university and then accepted a job as a financial-aid counselor at Yale where my wife had been accepted as a graduate student in the business school.

We found a nice apartment in New Haven and settled in. While I felt slightly overqualified for my position at Yale, I was interested to learn about financial aid at an Ivy League institution and to gain experience in an integrated student financial services setting.

Also, I figured there might eventually be an opportunity to move up or, if not, move out when my wife graduated in two years. With my love of writing, the reasonable and predictable schedule would also allow me time to write and complete the novel I had been toiling away at for several years.

After Rachel graduated with her M.B.A., she was offered a job in the New Haven area and we decided to stay. I took a writing class at Yale and eventually completed my novel. I was excited when a possible promotion finally came up since I saw myself as the natural choice. Unfortunately, the decision makers did not agree with me.

Relegated to my counselor's position, I took my rejection as a signal to begin looking elsewhere but I was hesitant to make a career move just for the sake of change. I thought about applying my financial-aid knowledge to a more general position such as in a dean's office and also considered the possibility of hawking loans for a student lender.

With the life-changing news that a child was on the way, however, I began to think somewhat differently about my job at Yale. The fact that I did not feel particularly challenged seemed less of a negative than before and the hours and lifestyle seemed like the perfect fit for a soon-to-be father.

Additionally, Yale's generous child-rearing leave would allow me invaluable time with my wife and daughter. It was just when we thought we had it all figured out that life threw us a curve ball in the form of Rachel's job relocation.

That's how after a very short tenure as an aspiring CPA, a year of teaching, and 12 years (can it be that long?) in higher education that I wind up in New Jersey typing against the time constraints dictated by a baby monitor. Where do I go from here?

I have arrived at another crossroads, but there are more than two diverging paths. Do I look for another financial-aid job or try to find a job in higher education with a broader scope? Do I try to decipher the confusing criteria for teacher certification and return to the classroom? Do I pursue my love of writing and begin another novel? Or do I just stay right where I am as a stay-at-home dad?

For now, all I know for certain is that I'm up against a word count and Sophie is about to wake up from her nap. Who knows what tomorrow will bring. Maybe I'll wear shoes. Maybe.