Knowing When to Say No

What apprenticeship chair no. 2 looks like as of now.

Kale Vogt
Nov. 20, 2024

When I turned 28 I asked for one thing for my birthday: “Mom, I want scuba-diving lessons.”

My mom responded with a smirk and rolled eyes as if to say, “Here we go again….”

I’ve always been the adventurous one in the family so this came as no surprise.

I had chosen scuba diving over rowing lessons. For one, scuba lessons were mildly cheaper and, second, I had big plans.

At 27, I felt lost. After exiting the National Park Service and before finding woodworking, like a lost puppy, I followed literally anything that captured my interest.

Salsa lessons? Let’s go. A ceramics class? Sign me up! Spoon whittling (a two-day course)? Organic gardening? You name it!

I can’t remember how the idea of scuba diving came to me but when it did, the possibilities of where it could take me enthralled my entire being. I formed a plan.

Scuba diving is broken down into courses similar to the schooling system. Once you get your basic scuba license (your G.E.D.), you can take courses of different focuses to expand your learning (similar to college courses.) Courses like rescue diving. Cold water diving. Underwater photography diving. The list goes on.

My plan was this: get my basic scuba license, take underwater photography and rescue courses, then re-enter the Park Service as a diver.

The idea was foolproof in my mind. I had years of Park Service and photography experience under my belt. My dream wasn’t completely out of the realm of reality. There were only a couple glaring issues in the way that I wasn’t brave enough to admit at the time:

1. My heart was no longer in the Park Service – I wanted to create.

2. I grew up landlocked; I don’t really care for bodies of water.

3. I’m a weak swimmer.