Day 4, write 10 interesting things about myself. On the surface, this sounds so easy, but instead it makes me think. What's interesting about me? Should I choose things that I think are interesting about me, or that I think other people will think are interesting about me? Frankly, I'm really not that interesting. In any case, here are 10 things about me; you may or may not think they are interesting.
1. I have a half brother who I've never met.
2. In 2008, our family took a 3 week RV trip with friends and drove most of the way across the country and back.
3. I was closer to my grandparents than either of my parents.
4. I've played Dungeons & Dragons
5. I was bullied in middle school.
6. I don't mind public speaking, but I find it difficult to approach someone and start a conversation.
7. I've never participated in a competitive athletic event.
8. I went to Live Aid (the original one in 1985).
9. I've never worked in retail, or been a waitress. Actually, other than a very brief stint at Roy Rogers, and being a tour guide in college, I have only ever worked in an office setting.
10. I'm a member of a sorority. Joining it was one of the best decisions I've ever made.
If anyone reads this, feel free to comment with an interesting thing or two or ten about yourself!
Saturday, October 24, 2015
Friday, October 23, 2015
Day 3, where I usually give up on "challenges"
30 Day Writing Challenge, Day 3: your first love and first kiss; if separate, discuss both.
Seriously? Is anyone's first kiss their first love? Well, maybe they are. I was not the type of teenage girl boys seemed to want to kiss so by the time I turned 15, I was willing to take what I could get. Sadly, I don't recall the name of the boy who first kissed me. My friend, Cindy, fixed me up with him. We went on a date, I liked him, and just like in the movies he leaned over to kiss me when he dropped me off at home. Unlike in the movies, he had braces and a terrible kissing technique, not to mention he went immediately for the tongue. Clearly he had not heard about practicing on the inside of your elbow to perfect kissing. What, you haven't heard of that either? Try it, you'll see. In any case, that was also our last date, which probably contributes to why I don't remember his name.
My first love, on the other hand, was pretty much 80's movie perfect. We met our junior year of high school, he made me smile, I think I made him smile. We went to different schools, but still managed to find plenty of time to spend together, probably more than our parents liked. We were both very involved in youth group and I like to recall us as the couple everyone wanted to be like....at least in our joint circle of friends. I remember feeling so lucky that a nice, cute, smart boy could see anything worthwhile in spending time with me. His parents took me on college visits with them, and I would surely have never found my alma mater otherwise. We took trips to Pittsburgh to visit each other's grandparents. We had each other and the security that relationship brings in high school. He probably never knew it, but he laid the groundwork for self confidence that helped me make good relationship choices in the future. Hopefully, I did the same for him. When we went our separate ways, our freshman year of college, it was a bittersweet parting. I think we both knew it was time to spread our wings.
As a post script to my first love, like most people, we lost touch as we moved through college. He very quickly (as I recall) moved on to another relationship, while I had a series of them. Suddenly with the advent of Facebook (I think I've mentioned I'm a huge fan of Facebook), we were back in touch. Unlike the many stories or urban legends you hear about high school sweethearts reuniting, I'm happy to report it was wonderful to catch up, and see pictures of his lovely family and go on our merry way, "liking" each others life events as our separate stories continue to unfold.
Seriously? Is anyone's first kiss their first love? Well, maybe they are. I was not the type of teenage girl boys seemed to want to kiss so by the time I turned 15, I was willing to take what I could get. Sadly, I don't recall the name of the boy who first kissed me. My friend, Cindy, fixed me up with him. We went on a date, I liked him, and just like in the movies he leaned over to kiss me when he dropped me off at home. Unlike in the movies, he had braces and a terrible kissing technique, not to mention he went immediately for the tongue. Clearly he had not heard about practicing on the inside of your elbow to perfect kissing. What, you haven't heard of that either? Try it, you'll see. In any case, that was also our last date, which probably contributes to why I don't remember his name.
My first love, on the other hand, was pretty much 80's movie perfect. We met our junior year of high school, he made me smile, I think I made him smile. We went to different schools, but still managed to find plenty of time to spend together, probably more than our parents liked. We were both very involved in youth group and I like to recall us as the couple everyone wanted to be like....at least in our joint circle of friends. I remember feeling so lucky that a nice, cute, smart boy could see anything worthwhile in spending time with me. His parents took me on college visits with them, and I would surely have never found my alma mater otherwise. We took trips to Pittsburgh to visit each other's grandparents. We had each other and the security that relationship brings in high school. He probably never knew it, but he laid the groundwork for self confidence that helped me make good relationship choices in the future. Hopefully, I did the same for him. When we went our separate ways, our freshman year of college, it was a bittersweet parting. I think we both knew it was time to spread our wings.
As a post script to my first love, like most people, we lost touch as we moved through college. He very quickly (as I recall) moved on to another relationship, while I had a series of them. Suddenly with the advent of Facebook (I think I've mentioned I'm a huge fan of Facebook), we were back in touch. Unlike the many stories or urban legends you hear about high school sweethearts reuniting, I'm happy to report it was wonderful to catch up, and see pictures of his lovely family and go on our merry way, "liking" each others life events as our separate stories continue to unfold.
Thursday, October 22, 2015
My earliest memory
Day 2 of the 30 day writing challenge; my earliest memory.
Well, this should be brief since my earliest memories are sketchy at best. I have quite a few memories of when I was young, most of which are supported with photographic evidence which science says increases your memory retention so I'll skip those. I actually have 2 very distinct memories from being very young, but I'm not sure which one is the earliest.
The first is of flying in an airplane with my uncle. I think I must have been about 2. My aunt and uncle had moved to Indiana and bought my grandmother a plane ticket to fly back with my uncle to see her newest grandaughter, who is about 18 months younger than me. When it came time to go, Grandma decided not to fly for some reason (fear, going without Granddad, who knows?) so I went. My grandparents drove out later to visit and retrieve me and there are pictures of that. My sole memory of this experience is sitting on the plane with the tray table down. In front of me were the real dishes and silverware they used on planes in the 1960's. I had a cup of hot chocolate in a coffee cup, which must have been a real treat for me. I think this memory has more to do with the hot chocolate than the plane ride because it is the only think I remember from this trip!
The second memory involves going to Ohio to visit my great-grandmother. In my head, I have vague images of the farmhouse porch and kitchen. There is also a sense of awe that I had such a person as a great-grandma and that there were people so old, although in reality, she was probably only in her early 70's at the time, possibly even her late 60's. What I remember most, however, was sitting at the kitchen table and having warm milk, from a cow.
Why do my earliest memories revolve around food? I'm sure there's something psychological there, but I don't think I want to know!
Well, this should be brief since my earliest memories are sketchy at best. I have quite a few memories of when I was young, most of which are supported with photographic evidence which science says increases your memory retention so I'll skip those. I actually have 2 very distinct memories from being very young, but I'm not sure which one is the earliest.
The first is of flying in an airplane with my uncle. I think I must have been about 2. My aunt and uncle had moved to Indiana and bought my grandmother a plane ticket to fly back with my uncle to see her newest grandaughter, who is about 18 months younger than me. When it came time to go, Grandma decided not to fly for some reason (fear, going without Granddad, who knows?) so I went. My grandparents drove out later to visit and retrieve me and there are pictures of that. My sole memory of this experience is sitting on the plane with the tray table down. In front of me were the real dishes and silverware they used on planes in the 1960's. I had a cup of hot chocolate in a coffee cup, which must have been a real treat for me. I think this memory has more to do with the hot chocolate than the plane ride because it is the only think I remember from this trip!
The second memory involves going to Ohio to visit my great-grandmother. In my head, I have vague images of the farmhouse porch and kitchen. There is also a sense of awe that I had such a person as a great-grandma and that there were people so old, although in reality, she was probably only in her early 70's at the time, possibly even her late 60's. What I remember most, however, was sitting at the kitchen table and having warm milk, from a cow.
Why do my earliest memories revolve around food? I'm sure there's something psychological there, but I don't think I want to know!
Wednesday, October 21, 2015
5 Problems with Social Media
Let me preface this by saying I don't necessarily have five problems with social media, however, I saw this enticing "30 day writing challenge" on the Hoagies Gifted Education Facebook page today and I thought I would give it a go because coming up with ideas that provoke me into writing something doesn't happen on a regular enough basis.
Problem #1: "It's National Write a Blog Day!" What? Every day on Facebook (and believe me I am on Facebook every day....I love it), there are multiple notifications that it is National something-or-other day or month when in fact, these things do not actually exist. Social media can be used positively to educate people about important issues (bullying, breast cancer, the fact that we love our children!), but bombarding people with it diminishes the message.
Problem #2: Soundbites. OMG, I hate them. So and so said such and such. Really? Today? Yesterday? 20 years ago? In what context? To whom? Stop judging people one sentence at a time.
Problem #3: "Share this picture" Ok, this isn't really a problem....more of a pet peeve. Share this picture if you love puppies, share this post if you think cancer sucks, copy and paste this if you're really my friend. Seriously? You're not guilting me into anything and if you think that by saying "my true friends" will share something, you should probably just unfriend me now.
Problem #4: Anonymity. While Facebook for example is not anonymous, many social media outlets such as Yik Yak, Tumblr, and ask.fm are. Anonymity allows the easy distribution of lies, stereotypes and facilitates bullying in ways that could never be replicated in real life. As adults, we should be savvy enough to recognize trolling and bullying for what they really are, but our kids are probably don't and they are becoming increasing savvy at hiding their online activities from us.
Problem #5: 30 day challenges. Who can keep up? 30 squat challenge, 30 day push up challenge, 21 day clean eating challenge, 30 day writing challenge, I feel like I've failed before I've even started. Except this one...I'm going to do it!
Problem #1: "It's National Write a Blog Day!" What? Every day on Facebook (and believe me I am on Facebook every day....I love it), there are multiple notifications that it is National something-or-other day or month when in fact, these things do not actually exist. Social media can be used positively to educate people about important issues (bullying, breast cancer, the fact that we love our children!), but bombarding people with it diminishes the message.
Problem #2: Soundbites. OMG, I hate them. So and so said such and such. Really? Today? Yesterday? 20 years ago? In what context? To whom? Stop judging people one sentence at a time.
Problem #3: "Share this picture" Ok, this isn't really a problem....more of a pet peeve. Share this picture if you love puppies, share this post if you think cancer sucks, copy and paste this if you're really my friend. Seriously? You're not guilting me into anything and if you think that by saying "my true friends" will share something, you should probably just unfriend me now.
Problem #4: Anonymity. While Facebook for example is not anonymous, many social media outlets such as Yik Yak, Tumblr, and ask.fm are. Anonymity allows the easy distribution of lies, stereotypes and facilitates bullying in ways that could never be replicated in real life. As adults, we should be savvy enough to recognize trolling and bullying for what they really are, but our kids are probably don't and they are becoming increasing savvy at hiding their online activities from us.
Problem #5: 30 day challenges. Who can keep up? 30 squat challenge, 30 day push up challenge, 21 day clean eating challenge, 30 day writing challenge, I feel like I've failed before I've even started. Except this one...I'm going to do it!
Monday, July 27, 2015
Us v. You or Me v. Them
Racism is a hot topic these days. Hot as in, it's in the news ALL.THE.TIME. Also, hot as in if you bring it up, you are likely to get burned. I'm white. I'm about as white as you can get. I can barely be in the sun for 15 minutes before I start to burn. I have freckles and a waspy first name. I don't claim to begin to understand the black experience in America. I'm not quite sure I even understand the concept of the "black experience" because in my white experience, every person's circumstances are different and deserve to be treated as such.
I currently live in a town where, as a white person, I am in the minority. My children go to a school where, as white kids, they are the minority (about 30%) of the school population. I understand that there are terrible, hateful people on the planet who treat others in terrible, hateful ways because of the color of their skin (or their religion, or their sexual preference, or the fact that they shop at Walmart).
Here's what I don't understand. If you, Mr. or Ms. POC (Person of Color) don't want to be judged based solely on one thing, why on earth do you judge someone else that way? Are you basing your judgement on your own personal experiences or on something the media or someone else has told you? Racism/hatred/prejudice...whatever label you want to put on it, it's all learned along the way.
Recently, in the town where I live a worker at the high school was fired for making some inflammatory remarks on social media. As a white person, my observation of these remarks was that while they were unwise, she was clearly upset about a news topic and expressed it. Her statements were generalized and directed towards members of the black community who wear their hoods up and pants down (to paraphrase). This woman worked in our schools for many, many years. She was active in school as a parent and in the community as a citizen. People who know her would describe her as kind and caring. Immediately some community activists called for her dismissal and the local school board complied. The same community activists also organized a student walk out at the high school. When I spoke to some of the kids, what I heard from them were things like, "she said she hates black people", "I want to show solidarity", "We got to leave school, why wouldn't I go?", "We want to show teachers that they can't boss us around.". Like most teenagers, they were basically unaware of what happened, but more than ready to jump on the bandwagon.
What I didn't hear anyone say was, what in the world happened that made this otherwise, kind, nice, involved person, say these things? The reality is, this woman was treated in the exact same way the people complaining say they don't want to be treated. No one looked at her as an individual. They just looked at her as "white" and because she was white, she automatically must be a racist, and any criticism she might have cannot be legitimate because she must be a racist and there is no room for dialogue because she must be a racist and she needs to be fired without consideration because she must be a racist and it's ok that her child is now bullied in school because she must be a racist and it probably trickled down and the school district must now provide diversity training because she must be a racist and therefore the rest of the school district employees probably are too.
How do we get to a place where a person gets treated as more than a single tweet or soundbite? How can we take the time to know our neighbors, regardless of skin color, and treat them as our neighbors instead of "them". How do we constructively criticize each other's words or actions without turning every criticism into a racial rallying cry?
I have a lot more thoughts on this subject and like many white people I know, would really like to have an open dialogue with others on it. I'm sure there is much I don't know or understand about cultural dynamics and "you" as a person. At the same time, I'm also sure there is much you don't know or understand about me. If we could all begin treating people as people instead of opportunities to make a point, we'd be off to a good start.
I currently live in a town where, as a white person, I am in the minority. My children go to a school where, as white kids, they are the minority (about 30%) of the school population. I understand that there are terrible, hateful people on the planet who treat others in terrible, hateful ways because of the color of their skin (or their religion, or their sexual preference, or the fact that they shop at Walmart).
Here's what I don't understand. If you, Mr. or Ms. POC (Person of Color) don't want to be judged based solely on one thing, why on earth do you judge someone else that way? Are you basing your judgement on your own personal experiences or on something the media or someone else has told you? Racism/hatred/prejudice...whatever label you want to put on it, it's all learned along the way.
Recently, in the town where I live a worker at the high school was fired for making some inflammatory remarks on social media. As a white person, my observation of these remarks was that while they were unwise, she was clearly upset about a news topic and expressed it. Her statements were generalized and directed towards members of the black community who wear their hoods up and pants down (to paraphrase). This woman worked in our schools for many, many years. She was active in school as a parent and in the community as a citizen. People who know her would describe her as kind and caring. Immediately some community activists called for her dismissal and the local school board complied. The same community activists also organized a student walk out at the high school. When I spoke to some of the kids, what I heard from them were things like, "she said she hates black people", "I want to show solidarity", "We got to leave school, why wouldn't I go?", "We want to show teachers that they can't boss us around.". Like most teenagers, they were basically unaware of what happened, but more than ready to jump on the bandwagon.
What I didn't hear anyone say was, what in the world happened that made this otherwise, kind, nice, involved person, say these things? The reality is, this woman was treated in the exact same way the people complaining say they don't want to be treated. No one looked at her as an individual. They just looked at her as "white" and because she was white, she automatically must be a racist, and any criticism she might have cannot be legitimate because she must be a racist and there is no room for dialogue because she must be a racist and she needs to be fired without consideration because she must be a racist and it's ok that her child is now bullied in school because she must be a racist and it probably trickled down and the school district must now provide diversity training because she must be a racist and therefore the rest of the school district employees probably are too.
How do we get to a place where a person gets treated as more than a single tweet or soundbite? How can we take the time to know our neighbors, regardless of skin color, and treat them as our neighbors instead of "them". How do we constructively criticize each other's words or actions without turning every criticism into a racial rallying cry?
I have a lot more thoughts on this subject and like many white people I know, would really like to have an open dialogue with others on it. I'm sure there is much I don't know or understand about cultural dynamics and "you" as a person. At the same time, I'm also sure there is much you don't know or understand about me. If we could all begin treating people as people instead of opportunities to make a point, we'd be off to a good start.
Tuesday, May 19, 2015
They're growing up
My kids are growing up. I know, it's the way things are supposed to be. In fact, I really do want them to be this way. I have enjoyed every phase of my kids lives and looked forward to each new one to come. Sure, there have been ups and downs, but I never looked back and longed for, say, those toddler years. We lived them, we took pictures and video, we enjoyed them and we moved on.
Now, my oldest is getting ready to graduate from high school and my youngest is a very independent teenager. Except for meals and money, I am becoming extraneous in their lives (at least they think I am). I'm not sure how to deal with this. On the one hand it is occasionally liberating, on the other, it's heartbreaking.
My daughter, who cried every day when she went to school until the THIRD GRADE, has no time for me. She is leaving for college in 3 months and I want to go to lunch and shop and enjoy her company while she is here and that is last thing she is interested in. I get it. I am not so old that I don't remember graduating from high school or the summer before I left for college. I know that she wants and needs to enjoy this rare kind of freedom. I am happy and excited for her and all the experiences yet to come in her life.
I have moved from a place of vital importance to one of minor (sometimes major) inconvenience and I don't know how to deal with it. After 18 years of rearranging my life to accommodate theirs, how do I stop doing that? And what in the heck do I do now? I thought I was mentally prepared for this. I have plenty of friends whose children have already flown from the nest. I know life is just as fulfilling, and frequently less aggravating, when they are on their own, or almost so. The weeks when they have been away at summer camp, I've thought to myself, "yeah, this is what it will be like someday." I was wrong. The physical absence is so insignificant compared to the emotional one. My heart breaks for my friends that have twins who are going (or will be going) through this transition. One at a time is hard enough. I wonder if it will be easier when the second time comes around. At least he still needs me to drive him to the pool this summer....
P.S. If you have already been through this transition, what helped? What didn't? How do you feel about it now?
Monday, November 17, 2014
Black Friday (or Thursday), what's all the fuss?
For the past, 20 years or so I have hosted Thanksgiving dinner for anywhere between 8 and 30 people. Each year the menu is the same, but the attendees are different. People bring boyfriends or girlfriends, they move away, they get married and go to their in-laws. They get divorced and come back. They travel, or they don't feel like travelling. They come because we are their family, or because their family is too far away. The menu is always the same, but the crowd is different because everyone's needs, circumstances or desires change.
I have never been a Black Friday shopper for a variety of reasons. It used to be that I had to go to work (in an office, not a store) on Friday. It seems to come as a shock to many people, but Friday is not a given extension of Thanksgiving. The NYSE is open, so was my office. I didn't really mind this, mainly because it left my husband to do the bulk of the Thanksgiving cleanup. Today, I no longer work in an office, but I still don't shop on Black Friday. Nothing could put me less in the Christmas spirit than fighting over parking spots and the last "must have" gift on the shelves. For the record, I am very much a December 26th shopper, but that's all about me.
Stores, like most businesses, exist to make a profit. They spend ridiculous amounts of money to analyze shoppers, their desires and their habits. In the past several years, Black Friday has creeped into Thursday at what many people feel is an alarming rate. All over social media, retailers are decried for being against family time for their employees. "No one should have to be away from their family on Thanksgiving," people protest. Hey, guess what...doctors, nurses, firefighters, police officers, and correctional officers all work on Thanksgiving. What's that you say? Those are necessary and important jobs. Ok, what about waiters and waitresses in restaurants that serve Thanksgiving dinners, casino workers, grocery store workers (so thankful for them when you realize you don't have cranberry sauce), and convenience store workers?
The "public outrage" over retail employees having to work at some point on Thanksgiving day is incomprehensible to me. I just read a change.org petition from someone saying they will no longer be able to spend Thanksgiving with their family because they have to work at Target. Target's website says they open at 6:00 p.m. on Thanksgiving. Assuming that employees might have to be there at 5:00 p.m. to prepare for the crowds, it seems to me that for most people, there is time in the day to spend with family and or friends. Besides, who says Thanksgiving must be celebrated on the last Thursday in November. How about Wednesday or Sunday...whatever day works for you. Christmas is a more significant holiday and people alter their celebration of it all the time. We celebrate Christmas with my in-laws on the 24th and at home on the 25th. My neighbor celebrates with her family on Christmas, and her in-laws on the Saturday after Christmas.
The bottom line is this, stores open on Thanksgiving not because they are evil corporations who want to treat employees badly. They open because that's when people want to shop. If you don't like it, stop shopping on Thursday and encourage your friends and family to do the same. Don't demonize businesses for doing what they exist to do...provide goods and services to people who want them, when they want them. Instead of expressing your moral outrage over the situation, bake an extra turkey and invite some people over who can't be with their biological family this holiday for whatever reason.
I have never been a Black Friday shopper for a variety of reasons. It used to be that I had to go to work (in an office, not a store) on Friday. It seems to come as a shock to many people, but Friday is not a given extension of Thanksgiving. The NYSE is open, so was my office. I didn't really mind this, mainly because it left my husband to do the bulk of the Thanksgiving cleanup. Today, I no longer work in an office, but I still don't shop on Black Friday. Nothing could put me less in the Christmas spirit than fighting over parking spots and the last "must have" gift on the shelves. For the record, I am very much a December 26th shopper, but that's all about me.
Stores, like most businesses, exist to make a profit. They spend ridiculous amounts of money to analyze shoppers, their desires and their habits. In the past several years, Black Friday has creeped into Thursday at what many people feel is an alarming rate. All over social media, retailers are decried for being against family time for their employees. "No one should have to be away from their family on Thanksgiving," people protest. Hey, guess what...doctors, nurses, firefighters, police officers, and correctional officers all work on Thanksgiving. What's that you say? Those are necessary and important jobs. Ok, what about waiters and waitresses in restaurants that serve Thanksgiving dinners, casino workers, grocery store workers (so thankful for them when you realize you don't have cranberry sauce), and convenience store workers?
The "public outrage" over retail employees having to work at some point on Thanksgiving day is incomprehensible to me. I just read a change.org petition from someone saying they will no longer be able to spend Thanksgiving with their family because they have to work at Target. Target's website says they open at 6:00 p.m. on Thanksgiving. Assuming that employees might have to be there at 5:00 p.m. to prepare for the crowds, it seems to me that for most people, there is time in the day to spend with family and or friends. Besides, who says Thanksgiving must be celebrated on the last Thursday in November. How about Wednesday or Sunday...whatever day works for you. Christmas is a more significant holiday and people alter their celebration of it all the time. We celebrate Christmas with my in-laws on the 24th and at home on the 25th. My neighbor celebrates with her family on Christmas, and her in-laws on the Saturday after Christmas.
The bottom line is this, stores open on Thanksgiving not because they are evil corporations who want to treat employees badly. They open because that's when people want to shop. If you don't like it, stop shopping on Thursday and encourage your friends and family to do the same. Don't demonize businesses for doing what they exist to do...provide goods and services to people who want them, when they want them. Instead of expressing your moral outrage over the situation, bake an extra turkey and invite some people over who can't be with their biological family this holiday for whatever reason.
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