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What I’m Into (June 2013)

Posted in Books, Food, Resolutions, TV, Work on June 28, 2013| 14 Comments »

Well, it’s here.  Texas summer.  It took its merciful time getting to Denton, but this week it seems to be making up for lost time.  Goodbye, low utility bills.  I’ll miss you most of all.

June means:

– summer conferences in Housing

– having most of my conversations start with some variation of, “I haven’t seen you in so long – where have you been?”  Working.  Always, always working during the school year.  Summer means no teaching, though, which makes just working my full-time job feel like time off.

– summer cleaning (because it was too nice outside/too busy in the spring)

– snow cones

And all these things:

Books

Apparently I think I’m a young adult, because YA fiction is what I’ve been reading lately.

In June, I finished the latest in Cassandra Clare’s The Mortal Instruments series.  They’re…okay.  I would have enjoyed them more in a month when everything else I read was terrible, but that’s not really a recommendation, is it?  If you have to read poorly written things to appreciate something, maybe it’s best to advise others to skip it.  Especially if they happened to read something like Lord of the White Hell by Ginn Hale in the same month.  There’s just no comparison.

I also read Citrus County by John Brandon.  He writes dialogue well.  I can read just about anything with well-written dialogue.

My favorite book of the month was Will Grayson, Will Grayson.  I love John Green.  Every time I read another book of his for the first time, I gush and say, “This is my favorite book I’ve ever read of his!”  And it’s true every time, but it’s especially true with this one.  This is my favorite favorite.  I’ve never read anything else by David Levithan, but I certainly will now.

In July, I am actually reading books written for proper grown-ups (well, older ones, anyway):  The Paris Wife, Let the Great World Spin, The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks, Snapper, The Cookbook Collector, and I might finish A Storm of Swords and Quiet.  I also might start Infinite Jest.  Maybe.

Or maybe I’ll just catch up on TV.

TV is my boyfriend:

The only movie I watched this month (or last month, for that matter) was Friends with Kids.  It’s not new, but it had me at Adam Scott, whom I adore.

I haven’t even watched a lot of TV this month.  I finished the last season of The West Wing.  Yes, it was my first time.  I’m glad I waited until it was off the air, because I am pretty sure I would have been an emotional disaster if I had actually followed it as it was airing.  Just the whole time.  In related news, if anyone is looking for gift ideas for me, you’ll notice that I’ve provided a link in the previous line for your convenience. /shameless

Lately, I’ve been watching Dr. Who.  I’m about halfway through the fourth season.  The weeping angels are still the creepiest villains. *shudders*

And I haven’t been watching Game of Thrones, but I had to see what everyone was so upset about re: the wedding of doom.  Clearly, these upset fans have not read the books, or they’d be used to people dropping like flies (and don’t yell “Spoiler Alert” to me.  If you don’t know that a lot of people die in this story, you haven’t been paying attention, because…um…war).  I like that the episode inspired this (spoilery) and this (spoilery).

I can’t believe I missed the start of SYTYCD.  I love that show.  Fair warning – next month will probably include videos of dances that everyone just really needs to see.

Music:

At work, I have been rocking my Pandora stations, specifically the Build Me Up, Buttercup station and the Edith Piaf station.  You’re welcome, coworkers.

In my car, it’s been Melody Gardot and Madeleine Peyroux.

Food:

I’m taking Preston Yancey’s Sacramental Baking course, and I now am addicted to sourdough.  Seriously – I might have a problem.  A happy, delicious problem about which none of my friends are complaining.  You can throw just about anything into a loaf of sourdough.  Sundried tomato and olive is my current favorite.

It’s summer, though, so most of what I have been making are a thousand different salads.  My favorites in June were this Mediterranean couscous salad,  arugula pasta salad with chickpeas and goat cheese, and anything with this lemon garlic vinaigrette dressing,

I also bought Popsicle molds and made many frozen treats.  My favorites were vegan peach pie pops and vegan orange creamsicles.

I want to make this banana jam…and possibly roll around in it a little.

The Interwebs:

– The person who made this cake is pretty much my hero.

– 31 Unmistakable Signs that You’re an Introvert.  Yep.  If the crowd is too big, I will socialize with your cat.  And ONLY your cat.

– My Imaginary Well-Dressed Toddler Daughter on Pinterest.

– Jonalyn Fincher’s video response to Jessica Rey’s The Evolution of the Swimsuit

That about sums it up.  Looking for something else to read, watch, or generally be into?  Check out similar posts at Leigh Kramer’s blog!

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Changing scenes

Posted in Work, Writing on June 27, 2013| Leave a Comment »

You go through your day, and people talk to you.  They ask you questions.  They need directions.  They just wanted to stop by and say, “Hello.”

They talk to each other, and you overhear it.

“Did you learn about aspartame in your nutrition class?  I learned about aspartame.  It kinda freaks me out.”

“And then he said, ‘I like your socks,’ and I was like, ‘Really?  You have to try harder.'”

“It’s so muggy in here.”

They nod at you as they pass by, and you both manage to speak in the short time it takes for them to walk by.

“Have a good day.” –  “You, too!”

“How are you?” – “I’m doing fine. And you?” – “Just great!”

“Thank you!”  – “You’re welcome!  See you tomorrow.”

Every once in a while, though, someone comes through, and the scene changes.

You’ve noticed him before.  He comes in often, almost everyday.  You have exchanged passing pleasantries prior to today.

But today, he pauses and reads something on the desk in front of you.  And you look up from your book and watch him read.

And the scene changes.

He’s scruffy.  He has brown eyes. He has a light scar above his left eyebrow.

He glances at you and smiles as he says, “Hi,” and then goes back to reading.  He doesn’t give in to the popular compulsion to narrate why he’s breaking his routine.  You like that about him.

You don’t give in to the popular compulsion to rationalize aloud why you’re watching him.

His focus is intense.  It’s just a flier about the building, but it has his full attention in this moment.  The same full attention he gave you with his greeting.

He finishes reading, and then says, “Community baths, huh?”  His voice is the exact moment that the buttercream from your cupcake mixes with the first sip of espresso on your tongue.

You manage to pull off a sympathetic smirk and say, “Yeah.”

He smiles and shakes his head.  Your smirk grows into something more open.  More alive.  His smile does the same.

He pats the desk once and says, “Have a good day.”

And the scene has changed.

Not really.  Nothing is different.  Tomorrow, it will be back to “Have a nice day!” – “You, too!”

But you remember that you can notice.  And feel.  And appreciate.  And be awake.

And the number of days, weeks, months since that has happened has been reset to zero.

 

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Summer Showdown, Part Two

Posted in Work on June 25, 2013| Leave a Comment »

Welcome to Round Two of the Larry^ vs. Christmas* Summer Showdown.  I am going to start over – clean slate – with the scoring, because otherwise, it’s possible that it just might get ridiculous.  And that’s how tournaments work – each game starts at zero.  And this is a new day.  And I’m too lazy to scroll back and look at where the score stands.

In the interest of fairness, I admit that most of the items in Summer Showdown Two follow a theme of argh-so-many-people, so it’s possible that this will be viewed as skewed by some readers.

I do not care.  Crowds are really not my favorite.

This round starts with…

 

The Cafeteria

You know how, before, I said things like, “Being in a building with a cafeteria, I get to see EVERYBODY!” like it was a good thing? Well, now that I’ve slept, woken up, and remembered what my actual personality is, my reaction is more along the lines of, “OMG so many people and so much loud!”  Don’t get me wrong, I like people.  People are nice.  I can rock a one-on-one conversation or a small group gathering.  In fact, I’m rocking one right now (well, not RIGHT now.  But just a few minutes ago, before I started typing). But when there are so many people that there’s no way I could possibly hope to interact with everyone, I get overwhelmed, and I just want to crawl under the desk and cry.

There’s no way to avoid it at Larry.  There are going to be thousands of people swarming around.  And part of it is that it’s summer, and the campers are intimidated by the students, and the students hate that the campers are here, making the lines that they feel are rightfully theirs longer than usual, and no one knows where the bathroom is, and so I have the same conversation 900 times an hour.  So that’s not really a reflection on Larry as a whole, because all of that is temporary.

There aren’t usually drummers in the building, drumming on everything.  And I’d be dealing with them at Christmas, too, because it’s near where they practice.

There aren’t usually teenage cheerleaders practicing their cheers in the lobby during their lunch break.

There aren’t usually coaches using their whistles in the building to get their campers’ attention…like this is a damn gym.

I am willing to believe that the building is usually full of people who actually belong here (sorry, campers, but…yeah) and thus who are a little more invested in making sure it is not a zoo, or at least who are less prone to travel in gargantuan packs (because you don’t take your friends to class with you).

But I imagine that the cafeteria still makes it inevitably crowded and louder, especially during typical meal times, than I like for it to be, even during the year.  The reason that I suspect that this is true is that the other people who do work here during the year (various university personnel, most of whom I don’t know and who don’t know me) are so used to it that they think they’re doing me a favor when they hang out and talk about the weather or how busy I must be, so that I won’t get bored.

News flash, folks.  I don’t often get bored.  There’s always something to do or prepare.  And if I’ve exhausted all things to do or prepare for work, there’s a cornucopia of things to read.  I don’t need to be entertained.  You’re thinking of boring people.

What I do need is for you not to yell at me so that I can hear your half of our mind-numbing conversation over the lunch rush.  Ignore me.  Please.  I promise you won’t hurt my feelings.

The only upside to this is that I appreciate quiet even more than I already did.  I went to Christmas to prepare for a camp there the other day, and it was so blissfully peaceful.  It’s not always that way, but it’s that way more often than not.

Larry 0, Christmas 1.

Temperature control

Christmas has it.  Larry doesn’t.  As I am typing this, someone walking by just said, as if on cue, “Why is there no air conditioning here?”  There is.  You just can’t actually feel it, on account-a the so, so many people.  It’s not Larry’s fault.  It’s just the way air works.  When you have 10,000 people coming in, and it’s summer any time in Texas, it’s going to get hot and gross.  There’s no way around it.  Oh, wait.  There is.  It’s called being at Christmas, where leaving the door open is so rare that the alarm goes off if it’s left open too long, shaming the people holding it open into closing it immediately, preserving our nice 70-degree climate.

Larry 0, Christmas 2.

Desk operations 

When you are one of the most established buildings on campus, you will have collected some things that make desk operations run more smoothly.

Like this:

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I covet these boxes so much.  Do you know how much easier they have made check-ins and check-outs?  Do you know how much more smoothly move-in day would run if we had some of our very own at Christmas?  Dear Christmas HD of mine, can we get some of these things?!?!?!?!  Because I NEED them!

I like office supplies.  No.  That’s too tame.  I LUUUUUUUUUUURVEEEEEEE office supplies (say it out loud, just like that.  Throw a purring noise in there.  Now you’ve got it).  And if these check-in boxes were a boy, I would marry them.

I also have benefited from seeing how Larry does things differently and weighing them against how we do them at Christmas.  Most of the things we do, I’m keeping the same (Desk blog, Larry.  Because it’s the 21st century.  And we can check problems from afar during the weekend for training/disaster-avoidance purposes.  And no one can alter someone else’s blog post.  I’m just sayin’.).  But it’s always good to see how things work at other places, because it will make me a stronger leader in my regular position.  So I’m glad for this experience.

Larry 1, Christmas 2.

Junior High flashbacks

At Christmas, I know where things are, and even if I didn’t, its location has a normal name (i.e., 3rd floor north closet or CHR-375, if you want to cut right to the chase and not have to even bother knowing where north is).  Everything at Larry has a quirky, community-building name, which is great…if you’re a part of said community and are going to stick around for awhile, thus inspiring you to actually learn it.  I get it – I do – but I feel like the awkward adolescent who doesn’t really fit in with the cool kids.  Even a map would be helpful, for those of us who are on the outside looking in, to know where (or what) the hell Sherwood is when the police officer from the information booth wants a quiet place to eat her lunch.  But alas, having searched the S: drive over, I have run across no map.  I so enjoy looking incompetent when people ask where something is.  I need to have a shirt made that says, “I don’t usually work here.  Don’t judge me.” or “I’m better at this job in my building” or just “For the love of God, I’m trying.”

Sorry, Larry.  You’re too cool for me.  Figuratively, of course.  Literally speaking, it’s so freaking hot here.

Larry 1, Christmas 3.

The “I gotta be me!” factor (you know, because the rest of this has been super objective)

At Christmas, it is far less likely that, if I (allegedly) did something like roll my eyes and say, “White people!” with an exasperated sigh, there would be a tour of parents coming through to overhear me (it’s not directed at them, for the record.  I would never.  That’s would be terrible customer service.  I toe the line, but I’m not THAT person.).  And if there is a tour of parents coming through, I have a better vantage point at Christmas to see them coming and to adjust my speech accordingly.

Some people might argue that I could just curb such comments the entire time I’m behind the desk, but these people clearly don’t get my clever, tongue-in-cheek sense of humor that so endears me to everyone I meet.

So…anyway…

Larry 1, Christmas 4.

Shout-out to Sarah

This summer could have been really terrible.  I not only could have been forced into change (which, in case you missed the neon-sign-level-of-obviousness memo, I really detest), but also forced into a place that was a disaster with people I didn’t get along with (delightful as I am, it happens).  I cannot confirm that that would have been the case anywhere else in the department – I don’t know of anyone who outwardly hates me – but it’s always a fear of mine.  I recognize that I’m an acquired taste, and some people don’t want to make the effort.  I am grateful that this has not been the case.  Sarah (real props call for real names) has been especially welcoming, so much so that Larry gets another point, just for her.  Everyone else is pretty cool, but Sarah goes out of her way, and I appreciate it.

Also, there’s a dog here that, when it’s (he?  she? I don’t even know) not judging me, tolerates me enough to put up with me fishing paper clips out of its mouth.

So final tally for this round – Larry 2, Christmas 4

^ and * – Name of building changed…because I’m a professional.  I mean, I did immediately email this link to the competing hall directors, because they enjoy this sort of thing, so it’s not like this is a secret.  Also, context clues make it really obvious to anyone who has ever spent any time on campus.  But still.  Random people/prospective students could read, and I could color their opinion, which I don’t want to do, because it’s based on my own personal bias, and they might actually love living at ^ more than *.  It could happen.

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Summer Showdown, Part 1

Posted in Work, tagged on June 4, 2013| 1 Comment »

This is the first summer (or…the first time ever, rather) that I have worked here but not at my building.  We have two weeks of camps at my building and no cafeteria, so we have nothing for me to do there, basically.  That means that I am forced to get to work at another hall most of the summer.

My competitive streak makes me want to stack them against each other.

First, the history:

Larry^ holds many fond memories for me.  I spent a lot of time here when I was a resident, four thousand years ago, hanging out with friends in the lobby, Social Dance Liberation Front in the meeting room, eating at what was then one of the only places on campus where you could guarantee that you could get vegetarian food.  Good times.

Christmas* is that building that they had to destroy the Texas Pickup Cafe to build.  Rude.

Larry 1, Christmas 0.

Recent history:

Christmas has been my place of employ for the last eight years.  We have history.  I love Christmas.  Because we’re the best.

Larry is cool.  Larry has character.  Larry is…cool.  But it’s not home.

Larry 1, Christmas 1.

Hospitality:

Christmas is hospitable.  We like to make people feel welcome.  This year alone, my hall director has brought peanut butter cookies, breakfast burritos, cake, Ravelin, and multiple other treats.  Hospitality is important to me

Larry is at an admitted disadvantage.  I have years of memories of Christmas’s hospitality, and I have two days at Larry.  Already in those two days, though, I have been greeted by a welcome sign and a cupcake.  Observe and be jealous:

Image

Few things say, “Welcome!” to me like mocha buttercream.

But like I said, it’s a little early to really get a real comparison.

The score remains:  Larry 1, Christmas 1.

Related to welcome, appreciation:

Again, Larry is at a disadvantage, but this one is going to be hard to outdo.  Christmas LOVES me.  One year, the Hall Association seriously considered (i.e., it was one of the three finalist designs) making an acrostic of my name, which just so happens to match up with our hall’s abbreviation, as part of the year’s t-shirt.  This year, for staff appreciation week, the RAs wrote and sang us a song.  When I mention that I’m at another building on Facebook, at least one of the RAs will comment with thinly veiled panic, demanding to know why I’m not at Christmas and needing reassurance that I will be back there – where they claim I clearly belong – in the fall.

Larry seems to like me just fine.  The hall directors are awesome.  The staff seems great.  I’m sure that they will grow to like me as well as can be expected.  I’m not sure that two months is long enough to really LOVE me, though, so Christmas comes out ahead on this one.

Larry 1, Christmas 2.

Foot Traffic:

Christmas is pretty much out of the way over at the edge of campus.  No one comes to Christmas unless they have specific business at Christmas.  Larry is right in the middle of everything. And Larry has a cafeteria.  At Larry, you get to see everybody.  I like this so far, but I can see it being less appealing once we get camps and I have more work to do at the desk, the completion of which will take hours longer than it should when paired with the endless conversation that inevitably comes with a busy building.

Again, it’s an even trade.

Larry 1, Christmas 2.

Other traffic:

Traffic around Christmas  this time of the year is terrible.  We’re right by the coliseum where various schools (read:  every school in the entire universe…or metroplex) hold their graduation ceremonies.  Parking is a nightmare for a few weeks.  I am happy to be avoiding that.

Larry is under construction.  So I listen to construction noise all day here, then I go home and listen to three or four more hours of construction there.  How is this my life?  Why is it following me?  *cries; rocks in corner* The construction at Larry has done away with the two public restrooms in the lobby, so every time someone needs to use the restroom, I 1) tell them where to find it and 2) give them the access code, because the restrooms they’re using this summer are the ones on the resident wings that only the residents usually have access to use.  Either people will learn and adjust (i.e., learn the codes, follow the signs), or I will have this conversation a lot.

I’m sorry, Larry, but four weeks of graduation traffic as opposed to a forever of construction and related noise/inconvenience?  Christmas has this one.

Larry 1, Christmas 3.

So there you have it.  My first showdown between Larry and Christmas.  Christmas comes out ahead, but I have just been here two days, so I can admit that it’s a little unfair.  Also, I can admit that I don’t like change, so it’s possible that that is an underlying factor.

Ultimately, a day in another building is still a day with a job that is pretty fun and easy overall.

* and ^ – Name of building changed…because I’m a professional.  I mean, I did immediately email this link to the competing hall directors, because they enjoy this sort of thing, so it’s not like this is a secret.  Also, context clues make it really obvious to anyone who has ever spent any time on campus.  But still.  Random people/prospective students could read, and I could color their opinion, which I don’t want to do, because it’s based on my own personal bias, and they might actually love living at ^ more than *.  It could happen.

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Spring turns into summer

Posted in Books, Seasons, Work, Writing on May 15, 2013| Leave a Comment »

It’s summertime for me.  I know, it seems a little early.  Summer camps haven’t started.  The summer reading program at the library hasn’t begun.  The kids aren’t even out of school yet.

My seasons tend to start early, though.  I work with college students, so the seasons tend to go with the semesters and their breaks.  Also, I live in Texas, so it starts to feel like summer here earlier than most places.  In fact, it’s not so much fall, winter, spring, summer for me as it’s fall, holiday, spring, summer, because February might not always feel like winter here, but it always grades like spring. I turned in grades on Monday for Spring 2013 and have started working for summer conferences, so in my mind, I’ve transitioned.

It’s a new season.  A new photo album on Facebook.  A new goodbye, making way for a new hello.

I will miss my residents.  Well, most of them.  I will not miss teaching, but I’ll be ready to go back to it in August.

Summertime means conferences, the part of my job where I feel most like a fish out of water.  Day desk has been rougher than I expected it to be, but conferences are even rougher.  Training is my strength; customer service is not.  And customer service is all that summer conferences entail.  On the upside, it’s easier to leave behind when I leave work for the day.  I gratefully flee.  No chance of it following me home.

Summertime means reading.  I read a lot anyway, but there’s more time for it in the summer.  I am not reading many deep things this summer.  I actually have romance novels on my list.  I might flip out and throw some Proust in there or tackle Infinite Jest, but I make no promises.

Summertime usually means more writing, too.  I am going to work on my Fishbowl story this summer.  I am also submitting a few posts in a few places as a guest blogger.  And I have the urge for the first time ever to try my hand at poetry, so perhaps I will do some of that, too.  I am in love with poetry these days, from E. E. Cummings’s “I’d rather learn from one bird how to sing than to teach a ten thousand stars how not to dance,”  to Pablo Neruda’s  “I want to do with you what spring does with the cherry trees.”

But most important of all – summertime means snow cones and popsicles and yoga.  Cooling off and calming down.  It’s my sanest season.

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Weekend in Review: Camp NaNoWriMo

Posted in Work, Writing on April 16, 2013| Leave a Comment »

Image

This was pretty much my main view this weekend.  Other than eating and sleeping and laundry, I worked on my Camp NaNoWriMo piece.  I had great aspirations of reaching the halfway point by Sunday night, but I am still not there.  I got sucked into a little editing, and I just couldn’t seem to stop.

The semester is winding down.  My students are working on their third and final group presentation this week, which means easy and boring week in class for me.  But I look forward to the presentations next week.

 

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FemFest Day Two: Why It Matters

Posted in Church, Feminism, Hope, Rants, Work on February 27, 2013| 4 Comments »

{Day 2} Why It Matters: On Wednesday, February 27, link up at Danielle Vermeer’s blog, and write about these questions: What is at stake in this discussion? Why is feminism important to you? Are you thinking about your children or your sisters or the people that have come before you? Or, why do you not like the term? What are you concerned we’re not focusing on or we’re losing sight of when we talk about feminism? Why do you feel passionately about this topic?

Feminism is important to me, because I can’t do it alone. I need the world to want equality in both word and deed – for everyone. And I need feminism, because lately, I’ve been angry.

I want to be hopeful, and I am (sort of) – it’s just not the prevalent force in my life that I want it to be.

I am angry that…

– Too many women still have to work harder to earn the same respect, money, position, or insert-your-desired-compensation-for-work-here that men do, and that’s ridiculous. Don’t know any woman who has had that experience? Welcome to me. I can name four specific times in the last ten years of my career when I have been passed over for a job, only to find out that the man who got the job not only had less education than I do but more importantly, significantly less experience. And I would like to be able to say that those specific men chosen performed those jobs just as well as I would have, so it all worked out, but that’s only true of one of them (who was great at it, and I’m so glad that he got the job). The other three performed exactly how any rational person would expect someone with their limited skills and experience to perform. It’s frustrating enough to lose a job where I know I’d be an asset, but to lose it to someone who does not excel at it is maddening. I’m not naïve enough to think that the choice to hire them rather than me was merely institutional sexism – there were probably many factors involved, some of which were likely my own doing – but I am also not naïve enough to believe that sexism wasn’t one of the factors. And it needs to stop being one of the factors.

I don’t want to seem ungrateful. I do have two jobs that I generally like, while a lot of people are having problems finding any job at all. And there could be more cards stacked against me. I could be a woman AND a minority. I suppose I should see myself as one of the lucky ones. But do you really want to defend the position that working sixty hours a week, just to make ends meet, is lucky? Is that what a system that works looks like to you? That’s certainly not what it looks like to me, and that it works even less for some people than for others is wrong.

– Too many people are bound by rigid, socially constructed gender roles, and their unhappiness that they can’t seem to conform to them, despite constant pressure from church/family/media/society to do so, is unnecessary. I want a world where people can grow into themselves, especially the part of the self where their gender makes sense to them, without being told who they should be and being punished for violating some absurd norm from some imaginary world that was birthed so that the limited number of people who actually fit the stereotypes could feel superior.

– Too many people live in fear. I hate rape culture. I hate that, as a single woman living alone, I have had to take self-defense classes, and that I have various tools that can easily be used as weapons (and yes, I’ve practiced) stashed around my home, and that I have an escape plan – from my own damn home – the place that should be the safest place in the whole world for me – should it become compromised or violated. I hate that I am terrified that I just announced on the Internet that I am a single woman living alone. I hate that education on the subject tends to focus on how not to get raped instead of how to choose not to rape, assuming that prevention is a lost cause or worse – assuming that some people somehow deserve to be degraded. I hate that, twenty years after being a first-year college student myself, our culture is still so stunted in its awareness of this problem that I still have to explain to first-year college students why it matters whether or not they laugh at jokes about rape or abuse – why it is a big deal, always and every time –that that’s how desensitization works and that the complacency created by their desensitization is a big part of said problem. I hate that survivors of violence and abuse are silenced because their real and personal trauma seems like nothing but a big joke to our culture, which leads them to think that no one cares or will believe them and that, more often that you would believe, they’re absolutely right. I hate that rape culture is “just the way the world is,” and I refuse to let it stay that way.

– Too many people – mostly women and girls – are sold into slavery. I need feminism, because sex trafficking exists, and that’s not okay. I need feminism, because it pisses me off to live in a world where I have to say that sex trafficking – specifically, the selling of someone without her/his free consent (i.e., without threat of punishment, abuse, homelessness, ostracism, personal rejection, etc.) – is not okay. I need feminism because this is a problem in my country, in my state, not just “elsewhere.” And if somehow you manage to live in this world and you still didn’t know that, then you need feminism, too, because clearly your churches and your classrooms aren’t even talking about it, and that’s a problem.

– Too much of the world has too many problems, and too few people are whole enough to see far enough outside themselves to resolve them. There are people whose lives are defined by realities that I merely fear. There are people who work themselves to death and still go hungry and homeless. There are people who have to resort to illegal means or means that we, the richest 1% in the world, judge from afar as unethical in order to feed their family, because making an honest living doesn’t actually make a living at all (but it sure does make it possible for us to get great deals at Walmart, so for all our judgment, it seems that, once again, we’re the problem). There are people plagued by disease and poverty who have a voice but don’t have anyone to listen to it. We need to stop being selfish, sexist, controlling, thieving, abusive assholes to one another, because the world needs all the help it can get, and there are only so many hours in a day, and sometimes it’s too much to ask that we overcome our trauma and everyone else’s trauma, too. I am embarrassed that I ever accept that as an excuse not to try.

I am angry that people can see problems right in front of them, hurting people they claim to love,and still not understand or care.

I am angry, because I REFUSE to be apathetic, and most days, those seem like the only two choices.

I’m fed up. I’m tired. I could have written this post twenty years ago, because so little has changed. That’s exhausting. It’s disheartening to work so hard – to teach so much – and see it make so little difference. And I’ve only been at it twenty years. I think of those who have worked toward these goals for two or three times as long as I have, and I sometimes wonder how they get out of bed in the morning.

But between Jesus and feminism (which I suspect Jesus has a bit of a hand in), I have learned how to hope, so I can’t wait until I’m fixed to help others. There might be many pains outside our control, but there are enough pains that are fully within our grasp to alleviate or prevent. So let’s alleviate or prevent them. Let’s all cause each other less trauma. I need feminism (and my Jesus who taught it to me), because at its core is the theme that everyone benefits not only by our being less terrible to one another but also by our being good to one another.

So I am angry. But there is hope. Reading other FemFest posts this week has refreshed some of that hope in me. More on that tomorrow.

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An end-of-semester memo to my students

Posted in Work on November 26, 2012| Leave a Comment »

Greetings.

I am sure that you are all concerned about when grades and attendance will be posted online.  The due date for these postings is Monday, December 17.  That’s right – the Monday after finals week.  That’s when all of that is technically due.

But here’s what I’m going to do for you, because I’m so nice:

I will have attendance posted by your class time next week.  That way, you will know for certain whether you are exempt from the final or not.  You will have an actual print-out from me that says that you are exempt or that says that I will have the pleasure of seeing you again the following week for the final exam, along with instructions on how to prepare for said exam.

I will have your grades posted by the end of finals week.  I realize that this is a long time to wait for them, but the good news is that you don’t have to wait.  You can figure out what your grade is on your very own, with no additional input from me whatsoever.  Take the grades that I’ve handed back to you (as of this week, that will be six grades total – three individual speeches and three group speeches).  Add these grades together, and divide by six (or, the total number of grades).  This gives you up-to-date information on where you stand in the class.  Do not email me to ask me what your grades are.  I don’t email grades because I cannot verify privacy via email, and because I believe that if you really cared, you would keep up with them.  If you have failed to do so, congratulations – you’ve learned a life lesson (i.e., keep up with your grades).  And you thought you were only here to learn public speaking.  Bonus for you!

In the past, students have felt the need to express their disagreement with my time schedule regarding these issues, and I certainly recognize your right to express yourself.  Before you do, however, do me a favor.  Ask yourself how many assignments you have handed in a week before they were due to me.  Is that answer “zero” (hint:  it is)?  If so, perhaps this should be a sign unto you that the more realistic perspective to adopt is one of gratitude (or even mere acceptance – I’m happy with acceptance) that I’m getting it done early, rather than annoyance that I don’t have it done already.

Bonus helpful hint:  That figuring-out-your-own-grade thing?  You can probably do that in your other classes, too.  A visit to the section in the syllabus where the grading scale is located and some elementary math skills (or a friend with those skills) should be all you need.

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Not this

Posted in Work on October 30, 2012| Leave a Comment »

I was sick yesterday, so I stayed home and mostly slept and watched TV and read (when I could stand it).  I returned this morning to work, still sniffly but at least vertical.  My first hour of work has been what I typically get on Monday morning – a bombardment of neediness.  Work orders that need to be filed.  Paperwork that needs to be proofread or completed.  Everyone who was told over the weekend, “Come back on Monday morning when the full-time clerk is here,” needing me to do what they really needed to be done over the weekend the first time they asked.  And the classroom isn’t any better.  If I have to answer one more question that is clearly outlined on the assignment sheet, “going postal” may have to be renamed “going educational.”  Part of me thinks, “Come on.  They’re just 18…19…20.  Remember how you were at 18…19…20?”  But a louder part of me thinks, “Yes.  I do remember.  That’s why the neediness is annoying – because I didn’t do that.  I read the instructions and followed them and only asked questions after trying numerous times to fix it or figure it out on my own.”  Except for that one time when I called a professor in his office to get a grade instead of walking across campus to get it in class.  Dr. Critelli, I am so, so sorry.  Thank you for being kind enough to answer my question and not fail me.

I’ve never had an answer to “What do you see yourself doing in five or ten years?”  When I was in my early twenties, it freaked me out when I didn’t have an answer, because you’re supposed to know, or at least that’s what everyone tells you.  In my later twenties/early thirties, it stopped freaking me out, because while I still didn’t really know what I wanted to be when I grew up, I enjoyed teaching well enough, so I was happy to stay there.  But not having an answer to this question has its drawbacks, because sooner or later, well enough isn’t good enough.  I’m no longer frustrated by people who ask me to make long-term goals.  I get it now.  They weren’t trying to pressure me; they just wanted more for me than being 37 years old with an advanced degree and lots of experience, but still teaching the same class part-time I’ve been teaching for fifteen years and working another job for which I am ridiculously overqualified.

I finally have an answer to the question, though. What do I see myself doing in five years?  Not this.  I am thankful for this, but it’s not a forever plan.  I’ve never been ambitious, and I can’t really say that I am now (at least not where work is concerned), but having jobs for which I don’t think that I’m well-suited is driving me to find something for which I am well-suited.  And that gives the neediness a whole new look.  Now, they’re motivation.

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Fine line

Posted in Work on October 23, 2012| Leave a Comment »

I am tempted to direct this post to people of a certain age, specifically people in their late teens and early twenties.  It would be easy to make this one of those “kids these days!” posts, because that’s who most of my customers are, so from my vantage point, it would be easy to assume that this behavior is a generational trait.  I was reminded yesterday, however, that this particular behavior isn’t so much a trait of people of a certain generation as it is just people who don’t listen in general, because while most of  my examples might be from young “adults,” yesterday, I spoke to someone who reminded me that people their parents’ age aren’t so great with the information-processing/instruction-following either.

So I will just direct it to people of the world.  Actually, that’s a lot more fun.  Try it.  Say “people of the world,” out loud with your arms spread wide, as if you’re addressing a multitude.  Good times.

Anyway…

Dear people of the world,

There is a fine line between persistence and poor listening.

When you ask a question, listen to the answer that you’re given, and follow the instructions outlined in said answer in order to get what you want.  If you do not like the answer, however, do not just ask again.  Neither the answer nor the process have magically changed in the twenty seconds that have passed since you last asked, even if you rephrase the question.

The room change process STILL starts with the hall where you currently live, regardless of how many different people you ask or how many times you ask them for special treatment.

You still cannot have alcohol in your possession in our building if you are underage.  Even if you’re using it to cook.  Even if your parents buy it.  Go to their house and cook.  Problem solved.

No, I do not make exceptions to the “no make-up speeches” clause in the syllabus.  No make-up speeches.  Period.  There’s simply not time.  That you have a good excuse for missing does not change how time works.  You can give me all the scenarios that you want, but that will not change the policy.  If you have to miss a speech, write the paper to make up the points.  That’s the only other option.  Well, no.  There’s one more option.  It’s called “getting a zero.”

I cannot reserve a room for you until you are ready to commit to moving there.  I cannot guarantee that what is available now will be available when you do make a decision.  I hear that you are frustrated, and I empathize.  I would like to propose, however, that the cause of your frustration is your inability to make the decision needed to start the process, not the process itself.  We can’t hold two rooms for one person.  That would be chaos.

The U.S. Postal Service does not deliver door-to-door.  You’re thinking of UPS and FedEx.  We did not send the package back, so please stop yelling at me.  The USPS sent it back, on account-a you asked them to deliver to an address that has no mailbox, and they don’t do that.  I understand that you did not want this to happen, but on the bright side, now you know how the post office works.

You cannot roll a joint in class.  That is not an appropriate speech topic.  That you have asked me multiple times should be a sign unto you that perhaps you could benefit from a little more clarity in your life.

I will not give you your adult child’s room number.  I am sorry that they’re not answering their phone.  I would be upset with them, too.  But it is my job to safeguard the privacy of our residents, even residents who  ignore their mamas or forget to charge their phones.  You can ask again, but that doesn’t change the policy or my answer.  At least you know that I’m not handing out room numbers to people, so you can be comforted by the knowledge that there’s someone here who’s almost as protective of them as you are.  Silver lining?

You can’t take the weekend off if you can’t find anyone to cover your shift.  And you’re not making a great impression by asking me over and over again.  Sometimes, it does hurt to ask.

Seriously?  You cannot roll a joint in class.  Make better choices!

All of you – please remember – customer service  and servant leadership is just that – service, not blind obedience.  Sometimes, the best service is doing for you what you need, not what you want.

Especially if what you want is stupid.

Love,

Your Friendly Neighborhood Coffeesnob

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