Cracked Roots and Roses 29: Nails

Well, that was it—another distraction removed from my life. That early in my walk with Christ, I had no idea that God had a plan for me, nor did I realize I couldn’t just do anything or marry anyone. I finally know this for certain: my life is not my own.

While I was at the title company, I had a dream that I was a nail tech. It was odd because I had never had a manicure in my life. I had no interest in the beauty industry; it was never on my radar. But this dream was lucid, meaning I couldn’t forget it no matter how hard I tried. Normally, dreams fade by 80% upon waking up, but this one didn’t.

One day, while working, I got an email from an old coworker I hadn’t seen in a year. She wanted to know if I could take her place as a pedicure model at an upscale spa in Oak Brook. It turns out it was across the street from my job. How did she even know I worked in Oak Brook? We weren’t close, there was no Facebook back then, and I hadn’t kept up with her. Nonetheless, I took the slot because it was free and during my lunch hour.

While I was having the pedicure, a new image was being formed in me about nail technicians. Before, the only image I had was of walk-in places on every corner. But at this spa, everything smelled good, screamed luxury, and the service was done in excellence. The trainer in the nail department was a tall Black woman in her late 30s, something I hadn’t seen before.

After this amazing experience, I felt compelled to call her and ask what I needed to do to become a nail tech. Even as I said it, I thought it was ridiculous. I had never had a manicure and didn’t know the first thing about nails. I also had a great job at the title company and no plans to leave. She told me I needed to be licensed with the state, which would take a few months. Well, that was out of the question. If I was going to school, it wouldn’t be for nails. After all, it was just a dream, right?

A week passed, and still, the dream lingered. Now I saw myself doing nails. When I went back for another pedicure, I asked her more about the process of becoming a tech. She told me to tour the Academy of Nails in Downers Grove and talk to Brent. It took me another week to set up the tour.

The school was about 15 minutes from my apartment. It was in a storefront on a busy street, wedged between a sound shop and a Steak ’n Shake. I had never seen it before, nor did I know nail schools even existed. It didn’t look like a school; it looked like an old nail salon down on its luck. The display case in the window was adorned with cheap trinkets and rubber practice hands holding fake pearls. Every corner was decorated with plastic flowers and ornate brass vases.

The salon itself had plastic black marble nail tables and mismatched pedicure thrones. Brent met me at the door for the tour, and I wanted it to be over before it started. There was no way I would come here every day for something that wasn’t even my idea.

Once we started the tour, I relaxed a little as he explained the setup. The back of the place was the classroom portion, complete with a break room and lockers, while the front was for practical learning. That was why it looked like a nail salon. It made more sense.

When he finished the tour, he asked, “When would you like to get started?” I laughed without realizing it and said, “Thanks for showing me around. I’m not sure if I want to attend yet. I just wanted to see the place and think about it.”

He gave me a folder with the starting schedule, pricing, and other information. The school didn’t take loans or offer any form of assistance, which was a problem in itself. I had no money. I knew the answer was no. I threw the folder in my backseat and went home.

While driving, I said, “God, if I’m supposed to go to nail school, You’ll pay for it, I’ll go full-time, and I’ll still be able to pay my bills.” That was my deal—my way of fleecing God. There was no way He could do all that, I thought. I just wanted to forget the dream and move on with my life.

Within a few days, I forgot about the tour, and the dream started to fade.

Everything was all but forgotten until I got fired, and Kevin gave me the proverbial boot. A week after I was fired, I found the folder in my backseat and noticed that the next class started the following Monday.

I called Brent and asked if there was any way I could finance the $7,000 tuition. He said no but suggested I call Kelly at DuPage Works in Downers Grove. He even gave me her number.

“How did he know I was out of work?” I thought. I hadn’t told him that, and when I toured, I was still working at the Oak Brook office.

I called Kelly and told her Brent had suggested I reach out. She said I needed to come in person to complete an application for a grant. I got dressed and went down to fill out the paperwork.

Kelly looked at my driver’s license and said, “Oh, I don’t handle Cook County. This is DuPage. You would need to go to Chicago.”

I didn’t feel led to protest or leave, so I sat quietly. After about two minutes, she said, “Well, since you’re here, just fill out the forms, and I’ll fax them to Chicago.”

She gave me the paperwork and asked, “Why nails?”

I said, “I had a dream I was a nail technician.”

She gave me an odd look and said, “Maybe you should consider nursing. The pay is better, and the state will fund your nursing career 100%.”

I said, “No thanks, I have to do nail school.”

She explained that nail techs weren’t paid well and that the state would only fund about 20% because there was no demand for nail techs. I felt deflated. This felt like a mistake.

I didn’t have 80% of $7,000. I had just lost my job and was still paying for my divorce. I felt like I should finish the paperwork anyway.

When I completed it, I asked, “How long will it take to get an answer? The next full-time class starts on Monday.”

She smirked and said, “Unfortunately, this is a state program. It can take 3–6 months to get funding.”

I felt myself getting emotional. I could’ve been at the library, sending out resumes with the little gas I had.

She added, “Also, your paperwork needs to have a basic math and reading exam attached, and all of today’s slots are full. The next exam isn’t for another week.”

I thanked her for her time, gathered my copies, and left. I hurried to my car because I could feel the tears welling up. I was tired of wasting my time.

I was chasing a literal dream. I didn’t even want to do nails! This wasn’t my idea, and now I was being rejected.

I was halfway to my car when Kelly called my name from the door. I thought I had forgotten to sign something, so I went back.

She said, “I just got a call that someone can’t make today’s exam, so there’s an opening. Are you prepared to take the test today in about 10 minutes?”