1: Where I came from

 In the debut episode of Bonus Content, Jennifer Morris shares the family stories that made her who she is: a fearless mother who reinvented herself through education, a father whose greatest gift was making people feel seen, and a family whose curiosity always led to one more story. Along the way, she explains why life's "bonus content"—the memories, side quests, and unexpected connections—is often the real point. 

Transcript

SPEAKER_00 0:01

Hello. Welcome to bonus content. I'm Jennifer Morris. And if you've ever left a conversation and thought, oh, ooh, ooh, one more thing, then you're probably like me. Um, this podcast exists because I am continuously adding cars to my training of thought. Um, we can talk about teaching and somehow end up on Star Trek. I could talk to you about my kid and then somehow um talk about my dad or shoes or whatever, you know. I could start talking about my cosmetology career and end up talking about courage, leadership, grief, or why I want to drive across Oklahoma to eat pizza in a building that looks like 1987. Um, to me, all of these things connect, right? And honestly, I think the best things in life are often uh wedged into the bonus content. Uh stories that aren't necessarily on the agenda, um, the lesson inside the lesson, uh, the conversation that happens after the official meeting is over, um, the memories that come up whenever you hear a song, you see a bird, you do something at Christmas, you smell a perfume. Um, that's the kind of stuff that this podcast is about. And now, if I'm gonna ask you to hang out with me, I should probably tell you a little bit more about who I am. Um I think it's a very human thing to assume that your story begins with you, but as you get older, you start to see all of the threads that went into making you start somewhere else. And so for me, um part of my story begins with two young people from different tiny towns in Illinois. Um, a young guy in the Air Force, a young lady who would eventually become the absolutely bravest person that I have ever known in my life, and a chance introduction over the phone. Uh serious decisions that eventually led me to sitting here talking into my smartphone on a random Friday. And so today I want to tell you about the people who made me. So my parents grew up in Illinois, in little bitty tiny towns. Um, my cousins on both sides like to give me shit about being from Oklahoma, and I think a lot of that is because, in their mind, Oklahoma is like the Rogers and Hammerstein musical. And we all go to work on our horse and buggy, and we go and come back home and lay in our little teepee or our covered wagon, and we all own boots, and we all personally know Garth Brooks. I mean, in my case, I've probably run into him at some point. I mean, I'm from the same town where his parents are from, but I digress. Anyway, um, my dad joined the Air Force in 1979 after he left high school, and his roommate um ended up being a guy from uh a town north of Chicago, and they got on real good. They probably encouraged each other's worst habits, though, if we're being honest. And uh my dad's roommate was the oldest of five kids, and the youngest of those five was a sister, and she would call to talk to him, and sometimes he wasn't home, and so my dad would answer the phone and he would talk to her, and uh he thought she had a real sexy voice, um, and they got to know each other over the phone in a really inefficient social networking exercise here, and uh eventually, you know, it became something more than that. That woman was my mother. And uh after my dad discharged from the Air Force, um they uh moved in together in uh the same tiny town where my mom had grown up. Um and they lived there until things got weird uh work-wise. My dad had found work in a steel plant that was on strike more than it was actually um producing, so he got a hot tip from one of his cousins that there was a job in Oklahoma if he wanted to move down there and give it a shot. So he did. And my mom got really brave a little while later and came down to join him. Um, the older I get, the more I realize how young, how dumb, and how brave both of them were. Like it just blows my mind. Um so now we're gonna talk a little bit more about my mom. My mom, like I mentioned before, was the youngest of five children, um, grew up in a little bitty town north of Chicago, right off of Lake Michigan, and then um they moved to far, far southern Illinois, like two hours south of uh St. Louis, um, when she was in middle school and lived there until after high school. Um, she had a really rough childhood, a really rough adolescence, and um so moving to Oklahoma, even though it was terrifying, was liberating for her. And so um, you know, I came along um unexpectedly, and so my parents had to grow up real fast, and uh she was able to stay home with me and then eventually with my brother until I started kindergarten, and then it became apparent that she needed to go to work. So um she worked in a sewing machine shop, worked really hard, long days, tough labor. Um, you know, she was good at it though, and eventually that company sold to a much larger company um that wanted to cease operations in Oklahoma and move the whole thing to Illinois, to Chicago specifically. And um, they wanted the company, but they didn't want to pay any of the employees um to come and run the business and teach new employees how to do it. So um after receiving a really lackluster offer with no relocation assistance, my mom said thanks, but no, um, and probably cried the whole way home in the airplane and then um came back to Oklahoma and got her ducks in a row to go back to school at a local technology center for business office, um, launching a brand new career that she is very good at, um, and has been at that same technology center where she started as a student as uh an employee for the last 25 plus years. Um, she opted to go back to college when I was in high school and just did one or two classes at a time, and then finished up college in her 50s. Um and then things got weird. Like during that time, like right at the very end of her degree program, my dad was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer, and she needed to be there for my dad to support him through a very short, very rough um descent into illness and ultimately death. An unfortunate timing, you know, because the universe just kind of has a bad sense of humor. Um, she was also able to support my brother after his um poorly timed divorce, uh, right after my dad died. Um so anyway, the long the long story short, there, um my mother's choice of education completely changed the trajectory of my family forever and for the better. Um if it weren't for her walking into that technology center to take a second chance, I would have never done it myself and become a teacher in a technology center today. My mom was my uh shoots and ladders game right into Oklahoma Career Tech, and I am so grateful to her. Um, anyway, back to my dad. My dad um started his adult life in the Air Force partying a little too hard with my uh now uncle. And uh my um unplanned arrival caused him to have to grow up real fast. Um he worked a lot of what I affectionately call Joe jobs. Like he was a trash collector, he worked in a warehouse, actually, a few different warehouses. He did hospital work, he did temp work. Um, no matter what he did for a living, though, his real job was people. Um my brother and I were both pretty active in uh different extracurriculars, and um he would volunteer to be a part of whatever it was that we were doing because he just loved being around people, he liked helping kids, and uh he was just an absolute extrovert, like he didn't know a stranger. Um we would go to Walmart and he would be there just chatting it up with some random person in the middle of an aisle for over an hour, and my mom and brother and I are both just looking at each other like, is this guy for real? Um anyway, I think the probably the biggest portion of his time spent volunteering with people, he got involved with my Girl Scout, just wouldn't happen again. And so my dad, being the more extroverted of the two, um, you know, got into troop leadership. And so he became trained to do all the outdoor programming with us because you have to go through a really rigorous training to be able to take kids out into the wilderness, it turns out. And uh he loved it. Um, my friends and I loved having him around. Um, and he got more and more involved and then became a trainer for that same outdoor skills program, um, and then also one of the leaders of record for my troop, um, which was a novelty in the 90s, having a dad with a big black beard and a mullet um um brought a lot of curious stares and a lot of interaction. So um or not, and uh to make a long story um, my my dad um channels um as a result of his uh involvement. Um and then later, after I was out of school and in my first foray at college, um my first husband was a comedian, and uh my mom and dad loved him and all of our friends, and you know, they just kind of um unofficially adopted the entire comedy troupe, and there was never um too many people at the table on a Sunday dinner. Um everyone was welcome at the holidays, everyone was welcome pretty much any time. If you needed, you know, some surrogate parent affection and a hot meal, a beer and a laugh, my parents were there. Um, and my friends adored them and they adored my friends. Um so when my dad got sick, the timing of the thing was just so surreal. Like we found out right at the beginning of the year that he was sick, and um that spring, my husband and I had kind of officially, unofficially decided that we were ready to start trying for a family. And so um later that summer we were able to announce to my dad, who was in the middle of uh cancer treatments, that we were pregnant and it was a boy. And my parents were elated. Um now bear in mind I was 34 years old when I gave birth to my son. So at age 33, my parents had basically counted me out of the parenting uh group, right? So they were absolutely elated whenever my husband and I announced that we were having a baby. And um so I was um about three and a half months away from delivering, four months away from delivering uh when my dad passed. He'd gone on um and got sick, he'd caught pneumonia, you know, and pneumonia whenever you have metastatic pancreatic cancer that is spread to your lungs and your liver, um, is pretty much just like taking a sailboat into a hurricane. His lungs didn't stand a chance. Um, and we knew this when he, you know, was taken from the emergency room to the ICU. Um, that the likelihood of us taking him home again was pretty slim. So it was both a tragedy and a relief when he ultimately passed. During his funeral, um, and just during the time between his going on hospice and his death, I received stories from all over the place, all kinds of people. My cousins, my dad's Air Force friends, strangers of all kinds, um, brief social acquaintances that apparently my dad made a huge impact on. And one in particular really stuck out to me. Um there was a lady who came to my dad's funeral and um talked to the family at the potluck afterward, um, that was a grocery clerk at the local IGA um when she was young. Um and that's kind of a Joe job, also. Um, people don't always treat you great when you're the cashier at a local discount grocery store. But my dad apparently made her feel important, made her feel seen, made her feel like what she was doing mattered. And that really stuck with me. What a legacy. You know, my dad did, you know, very ordinary things, but made people feel extraordinary. And that is a mantle that, according to my husband, my brother and I proudly carry now. Um, me through teaching, um, counseling students, my brother through his involvement with his church, he cooks for his youth group every Sunday evening. Um and just both of us carrying out an informal campaign of kindness, decency, and just, you know, good-natured, gentle gregariousness because people matter. Everyone matters. Um so another thing that my parents and I shared was a love of music. Well, and my brother too, but in a different way. My brother is what I would consider a guitar um savant, well, really just a music savant. He's one of those people that can sit with an instrument, diddle and fiddle with it for, you know, anywhere from 10 minutes to two weeks, and he can produce a passable song on it. I remember once he bought a little living room parlor organ at uh Salvation Army, brought it home, and two weeks later he poked his head out of his bedroom and chuckled to me and said, Hey, hey Jin, listen to this. And he played Jump by Van Halen on the organ. And then he uh he donated it back when he was done with it. It was it was ridiculous and amazing, and that's just kind of how our family is. Um, anyway, so back to the back to the singing. So when my first husband and I were just dating, I saw a flyer on a bulletin board at the local library. Um, a women's chorus that was seeking new singers. And I was like, you know what? Yeah, absolutely, let's give this a shot. So I turn up, they're preparing for a Christmas series of engagements. So I learn all of their Christmas repertoire, have a great time, I sing with them two or three years, and the chorus becomes so small that it is financially insolvent. And so we made the choice as a group to disband. And I was not done singing yet at that point. Like I still wanted more. So I sought out the other choruses in the metropolitan area, and I made a decision to go visit one, and my mom said, Hey, you know, I really worry about you driving that far on the interstate. Keep in mind where I was going was probably about three, four exits north on I-35 from where we lived. So not that far. Um, but my mom was like, you need a chaperone. Uh and looking back, it's like, no, my mom needed an in. So my mom went with me to that chorus, and she joined also. Um, my mom had sang all through school. I had sang all through school, and we both desperately needed that outlet in our lives again. So we sang together in that chorus. And prior to my mom joining, you know, she had not so much as barely sang a peep but at church and, you know, the occasional song under her breath for 20 years, just petrified to be observed in public doing something vulnerable like singing. And poof, the fear was dissipated, or at least much, much less. And she and I sang together for nearly 10 years. It was fantastic. Um, eventually, my dad, after watching show after show after show, me and my mom and our friends decided that uh, you know, the nun who told him 40 years previous that he couldn't sing, be damned, right? Like he was going to go and try it himself. And so he joined a local men's group. Um, and he sang there until his death and really enjoyed it. Like, don't let somebody squash your enthusiasm. I don't think um raw talent should be a cost for entry to something joyful. So I do not subscribe to the idea that people should stop growing or enjoying things because they're of a certain age. Just FYI. Um, so through our involvement with the chorus, we made a lot of friends, both individually and as a family. And one of these friends, she and her husband, um, were very dear, lovely people. And after my friend's husband passed, um she came to a chorus function with her husband's Santa suit in a bag. And I don't know if you remember earlier in the episode I'd mentioned that my dad was uh bearded. So, you know, time is a uh is a jolly little thief, so it was no longer black, but beautiful glimmering silver. My dad also has a fatty liver, so he has a giant bowl full of jelly for a belly and little round glasses. So it's like um our friend knew that dad had the power of Santa in him. It was calling to her. She brought him the suit, and my dad, although friendly, gregarious, great with kids, also had a very complicated relationship with Christmas. When he was a kid, he remembers Christmas's being just like this very tense, weird vibe because he grew up in a family of uh chain smokers and alcoholics. And uh so Christmas was not the peaceful, loving occasion that he so desperately wanted it to be. It was it just wasn't, you know, and so until my brother and I came along, you know, he really didn't enjoy Christmas. And so this Santa suit just kind of magically appearing, um sort of stirred something within him. And from that time until really the Christmas before he passed, the Christmas before he passed, he got really, really sick. And looking back, it was probably the cancer starting to rear its ugly head. Um so I I think probably until that he probably had like seven years of Santa gigs, you know, before he got sick. Um, but he would go and do paid Santa gigs, he would do volunteer Santa gigs. And whenever that Party City Santa suit fell apart, another chorus friend was commissioned to sew the most beautiful Santa suit, very sturdy, very warm, very authentic, very soft. Um, it was an enchanting, beautiful thing for kids to behold, and my mother still has it in her master closet. My dad didn't just play Santa, he became the kind of person that children trusted to make holidays magical. Um he chose to create something better for other people out of the pain and discomfort of his own childhood. And after he passed, about a year or two on down the road, I got a little cartoon Santa tattoo on my back to honor him. Um yeah. So if you ever see me with my uh summer clothes on and Santa's peeking out over the top, now you know why he's there. Um so why why bonus content? Why does this exist? Um so my mom's absolute courage and fearlessness, my dad's kindness and generosity, um, my family's you know, creative enjoyment and curiosity, and just also the fact that my entire family family has some flavor of ADHD or autism. Um my family as a whole has always been full of people who had just one more story, one more thing to say, one more thing to talk about before we hug and get in the car and say goodbye or get off the phone. Um side quest scalore, a thirst for education, um, the need to reinvent oneself, um, to not remain stagnant. Um, and so the older I get, the more I see this, and I realize that really life has always been all about that bonus content. It's actually the point, right? Um a life is not made of giant grand gestures. Um, like those are focal points, sure, but everything is stitched together by little things every day. The bonus content. Um, so anyway, let's go ahead and wrap this up for the day. Um, so in the future, we're gonna talk a little bit about teaching, motherhood, leadership, the beauty industry, episodes from my life, road trips, whatever I'm reading, um, whatever I'm watching, whatever else wanders into this train wreck of a brain. Um, so until then, I want you all to take care of yourselves, take care of each other, and don't forget to leave a little bit of room for uh some bonus content. Bye.