I'm not sure if it's the state of Oklahoma, the Midwest, or if this is the norm in workplaces across the country...people have to jump through hoops to be politically correct. My position at practicum this summer (where I'm working should probably not be mentioned since I do not want to get anyone in trouble) has allowed me to attend all kinds of different events in all parts of Oklahoma City, however it has mostly been focused in NE OKC. While fashioning my beautiful learning agreement for my summer program I discussed how the department I'm working in was going to be involved in OKC Pride. Under normal circumstances no big deal, I assumed since I was working there and part of my position was to help with Pride that the department condoned the activity. My supervisor however circled that section and informed me that I needed to change the department name to an inner department name (a coalition name) whose funding we'll be using and whose name we will be operating under. Apparently higher ups in the department would kill our presence at Pride if they had access to it. Really? I was blown away. I'm doing my practicum in the health field, a field concerned with making everyone healthy and safe but they would pull the plug on participation in an outreach event because of who we were reaching out to? Since when is health political?
I attended a coalition meeting yesterday composed of concerned citizens and organization heads located in Northeast Oklahoma City. The meeting itself was meant to be a kind of networking session, a way for all organizations in NE OKC to share their events and even establish partnerships for future programs. I was told the meetings are usually low key and good places to learn about future community events. A woman walked in,10 minutes late, wearing white cut-off shorts, a big straw hat, and had a shorter, meaner looking woman bring up the rear. The woman sat down and at first seemed like she was just another concerned citizen interested in future events. However once the floor was opened up for organizations to speak she took over. She was running for district commissioner and was "concerned" abut things she saw going on in NE OKlahoma City. She talked about drugs, drop-outs, and a lack of swimming pools (I didn't really see the significance there). She monopolized the meeting and then before the rest of the organizations could speak she got up and said, as if she was being kind, "I wont take up anymore of your time." Thank god for the coalition head, he told her to take a seat. If she was going to attend a meeting then she was going to hear all of it. Why does politics always interfere when good things are happening? Why did this woman feel the need to interrupt a meeting of involved community members to harangue them for not doing enough?
Last night I was surfing channels and I came across the film "12 Angry Men". I had to read the play in high school and enjoyed it. It has a strong message and I think it's very relevant. However this wasn't the 12 Angry Men I remembered from high school, the one with Henry Fonda and the table of white men trying to put a young African American in prison for a crime he didn't commit. This version had a jury of African American men trying to put a young hispanic boy in prison for a crime he didn't commit. I know the film has a message, I know it is a message of essentially "don't judge a book by its cover or an individual by their color". But why do people need to recreate the film to preach the same message and further promote a hierarchy of ancestry?
In the department I'm in there is an outreach coordinator. She's incredible, has networking in the blood. She's African American and wonderful at relating to the NE Oklahoma Community. She has improved department outreach in that area exponentially, I'm learning so much just by watching her work. In the department we have several members of the LGBT community. Because of them the department is developing a presence in the LGBT part of town. We don't have members of the hispanic community, we don't have much outreach there...how is that fair? We need to stop representing the familiar and getting to know what we don't understand. Cause if people in the health field wont do it, who will?
Friday, June 18, 2010
Tuesday, June 15, 2010
New Discoveries
I'm learning here in Oklahoma, maybe not so much about the Midwest but more about the real work world. I've been teaching tennis in the summers between school semesters for about eight years. Life teaching at a country club is VERY different from 9 to 5 cubicle jobs. At country clubs the head pro wanders in 3 hours late, the assistant pros don't teach tennis so much as corral kids for their one hour bulk lessons, and we all learn how to kiss member ass. I'm an expert at pretending to be interested and convincing middle aged men that if anyone could make it on the pro tour after age 40 its them. I wore a lot of white, groomed a lot of clay courts, and learned how to teach in 115 degree heat without moving more than 2 steps. It's an art. I however do not know how to sit in front of a computer for 8 hours straight, get used to only having half an office, and go to mindless meetings where people spend more time figuring out the logistics of the next meeting than they do talking about actual topics. It is all so new to me.
The Cubicle
Just the word cubicle clues you into what it really is. Like the icicle or fudgecicle, it's masquerading as a legitimate delight but failing on every level. The cubicle, my cubicle, has only two real walls...the third wall is shared with your neighbor or in my case your supervisors office wall. Nothing about the cubicle screams privacy, everything I say or do for the most part can be seen by the entire office. Now you may ask "what do you NEED to do that cannot be seen by everyone in an office?" Well, little things. I can't stand up and adjust my shirt, I can't pick my wedgie, I can't text my friend telling them I'm bored out of my mind, and I can't surf the Internet. Everything I do is on display. Also, we all fart right? If I'm having a particularly unfortunate day everyone suffers and, with 10 other women in cubicles near me, someone is having a bad day pretty much every day. It just isn't fair, I feel like a penned animal only I don't even have the luxury of a complete pen. I'm a cow that can see freedom but is just too darn stupid to run. Instead of longing for riches, love, or divine inspiration I just aspire to that damn fourth wall. It's the corporate world's way of telling me to set smaller goals.
The Meeting
I've been to many unproductive meetings in my lifetime, it's a true art to conduct a meeting with 5 or more people and stay on task the entire time. I've been to meetings for two hours where we discussed a 50 page grant and I've been to two hour meetings where we talked about business for ten minutes and then spent the remaining 100 listening to stories told by the former infectious disease investigator (you have to track down an individuals sexual partners and tell them to get tested for syphilis etc. It's actually really entertaining because you're usually tracking down crack whores and have to bribe them with fast food to get them to describe their tricks). I went to a meeting last week with representatives from every department to finalize a community survey and determine potential distribution centers. It was funny how a. all the departments had their own quirks, b. the meeting facilitator after about ten minutes of interruptions look like he was contemplating suicide by hot coffee, and c. how even in the corporate world there is always that one person everyone wants to throw sharpened pencils at. I had to try very hard not to laugh. There was even a moment when the epi nerds got up with a 10 foot long chart covered in numbers and tried to explain how it was to be read. They looked insulted when the meeting facilitator suggested they convert their gorgeous chart to a very pretty line/bar graph (public health reference). Such is public health though! In this very meeting as an intern I solved the distribution problem and fixed part of the survey, things these people have been working on for weeks. I don't know if it's beginners luck or if I'm actually learning something in this graduate program of mine.
The Gossip
At the country clubs the gossip was always about members e.g. who is sleeping with who, who the head pro is flirting with, what kind of food the golf assistants get, and why Suzie can hit in her bikini but Bertha isn't allowed. All of this gossip was done in "safe" zones, areas where you knew people couldn't hear you. Here, in cubicle land, everyone can hear you. Why do people gossip? I've learned more shit just by sitting outside my supervisors door (which if you have a door why don't you flipping shut it when you are going to talk shit about someone) than I've heard in the ladies bathroom my short adult life. I even hear people talking about me within eye and ear sight of me. Dude you can see me. Luckily it's all been pretty good stuff (boss telling another gal in the office that we're both "softball" enthusiasts, grant writer telling boss that I'm actually really good at this whole writing thing...boss acting surprised) but seriously I wonder. My boss also gets very clever and lowers her voice when she is really talking the good smack, I just listen harder. Word to the wise, if you throughout most of the day just shout questions at me through your door and I shout answers back I can probably hear you when you are talking to someone else. I know more dirt about people in the building I've never even met than I know about my own family. Watch out for Betty in school health...
The Cubicle
Just the word cubicle clues you into what it really is. Like the icicle or fudgecicle, it's masquerading as a legitimate delight but failing on every level. The cubicle, my cubicle, has only two real walls...the third wall is shared with your neighbor or in my case your supervisors office wall. Nothing about the cubicle screams privacy, everything I say or do for the most part can be seen by the entire office. Now you may ask "what do you NEED to do that cannot be seen by everyone in an office?" Well, little things. I can't stand up and adjust my shirt, I can't pick my wedgie, I can't text my friend telling them I'm bored out of my mind, and I can't surf the Internet. Everything I do is on display. Also, we all fart right? If I'm having a particularly unfortunate day everyone suffers and, with 10 other women in cubicles near me, someone is having a bad day pretty much every day. It just isn't fair, I feel like a penned animal only I don't even have the luxury of a complete pen. I'm a cow that can see freedom but is just too darn stupid to run. Instead of longing for riches, love, or divine inspiration I just aspire to that damn fourth wall. It's the corporate world's way of telling me to set smaller goals.
The Meeting
I've been to many unproductive meetings in my lifetime, it's a true art to conduct a meeting with 5 or more people and stay on task the entire time. I've been to meetings for two hours where we discussed a 50 page grant and I've been to two hour meetings where we talked about business for ten minutes and then spent the remaining 100 listening to stories told by the former infectious disease investigator (you have to track down an individuals sexual partners and tell them to get tested for syphilis etc. It's actually really entertaining because you're usually tracking down crack whores and have to bribe them with fast food to get them to describe their tricks). I went to a meeting last week with representatives from every department to finalize a community survey and determine potential distribution centers. It was funny how a. all the departments had their own quirks, b. the meeting facilitator after about ten minutes of interruptions look like he was contemplating suicide by hot coffee, and c. how even in the corporate world there is always that one person everyone wants to throw sharpened pencils at. I had to try very hard not to laugh. There was even a moment when the epi nerds got up with a 10 foot long chart covered in numbers and tried to explain how it was to be read. They looked insulted when the meeting facilitator suggested they convert their gorgeous chart to a very pretty line/bar graph (public health reference). Such is public health though! In this very meeting as an intern I solved the distribution problem and fixed part of the survey, things these people have been working on for weeks. I don't know if it's beginners luck or if I'm actually learning something in this graduate program of mine.
The Gossip
At the country clubs the gossip was always about members e.g. who is sleeping with who, who the head pro is flirting with, what kind of food the golf assistants get, and why Suzie can hit in her bikini but Bertha isn't allowed. All of this gossip was done in "safe" zones, areas where you knew people couldn't hear you. Here, in cubicle land, everyone can hear you. Why do people gossip? I've learned more shit just by sitting outside my supervisors door (which if you have a door why don't you flipping shut it when you are going to talk shit about someone) than I've heard in the ladies bathroom my short adult life. I even hear people talking about me within eye and ear sight of me. Dude you can see me. Luckily it's all been pretty good stuff (boss telling another gal in the office that we're both "softball" enthusiasts, grant writer telling boss that I'm actually really good at this whole writing thing...boss acting surprised) but seriously I wonder. My boss also gets very clever and lowers her voice when she is really talking the good smack, I just listen harder. Word to the wise, if you throughout most of the day just shout questions at me through your door and I shout answers back I can probably hear you when you are talking to someone else. I know more dirt about people in the building I've never even met than I know about my own family. Watch out for Betty in school health...
Friday, June 11, 2010
El Paso: Part Two
I guess my last post mainly focused on creeper men I've had to sit next to on airplanes. Notice how it's always men...just sayin.
El Paso, Texas like I said above is a decent sized city right on the Mexican border of Juarez. If you read the newspaper you'll know that Juarez is currently engaged in super major drug wars resulting in at least 20 deaths a week (sometimes upwards to 100). It used to be really easy to cross the border into Juarez and do some shopping. My uncle always thought it was really fun to try and sneak fruit back into the country, it's not that much fun and it draws a lot of attention to your chevy astrovan as you block all traffic trying to reenter the country. Anyway Juarez is totally sealed off now as in if any white blonde girl tries to cross the border she doesn't come back. However the violence has not spilled into El Paso so we felt pretty safe the entire time we were there.
The first two days in the west were spent in Cloudcroft, New Mexico. It's a small town up in the mountains in New Mexico that makes you feel like you're in Colorado. You drive through about an hour and a half of desert to get to the mountain and then you watch as the terrain literally just morphs before your eyes. A classic example of this is you drive through White Sands, New Mexico 30 minutes before you reach Cloudcroft. White Sands is miles of pure white sand dunes surrounded by desert bush. I'll put pictures below.
White Sands
Cloudcroft
It was a wonderful little 2 day stay. We ate waaay too much food, did a little shopping at a the local arts fair, and played a ton of spades (a card game I enjoy but suck at).
Dedication
The school dedication was scheduled for the day after Memorial Day. That morning we met up with my great aunt and uncle who drove in from Globe, Arizona. My great aunt and uncle are pushing 80, they shouldn't drive...ever. But anyway they arrived and reminded me why my Uncle Jim is the best guy ever. My Great Uncle Jim, my great grandmothers son, was the supervisor of the Inspiration Mine in his hay day (largest copper mine in US). He's old, kinda racist/sexist, and wicked funny. My fondest memory is when he took me, my uncle, and two male cousins to the country club for 18 holes. I'm a God awful golfer and have no business on a course but when I connect with the ball I can make it go pretty far. Anyway after about 9 holes of super suckage I outdrove my Uncle Jim. At the end of the hole he turned to me and said, completely serious I might add, "Kid, you're tired, go home". The only thing you can say when Uncle Jim puts you in that situation is, "alright Uncle Jim...you're probably right".
Well Uncle Jim was on a roll when we met up with him. We went out for lunch and on the way there he was being his usual cocky self. He pulled a correct turn out of his ass and muttered "It's hard to be humble when you're practically perfect in every way". Ah good man. When we were driving back to the hotel he talked about how difficult it had been to find the hotel. He said "Now the directions were confusing but as a typical male chauvinist I blame Jacque (his wife)". It's a shame I only get to see him once a year at most.
At the dedication I sat next to my mother and younger sister. I was introduced to many people that worked with my great grandmother and most people thought I was my mothers son. Now, yes I've got a butchy haircut now and if I had been in cargo shorts and an old t-shirt I'd have expected it...but I was in dress pants, a button up, and flipping heels! I can't catch a break. One woman, after my mother corrected her on my sex, pulled me towards her and said "you may not want to cut your hair so darn short". Thanks, I'll consider it.
My uncle Jim gave a speech and apologized that he wouldn't be able to get to all his points because it was so damn hot. Yes, he said damn in front of 400 elementary school kids. It was hot though. I had to keep my arms glued to my sides after about 15 minutes because my pit stains were so obnoxious. Note to self, never wear a dress shirt without an undershirt in El Paso in June. Alright this post is really long, longer than I anticipated. I'll leave yall with a picture of the school, beautiful school.
El Paso, Texas like I said above is a decent sized city right on the Mexican border of Juarez. If you read the newspaper you'll know that Juarez is currently engaged in super major drug wars resulting in at least 20 deaths a week (sometimes upwards to 100). It used to be really easy to cross the border into Juarez and do some shopping. My uncle always thought it was really fun to try and sneak fruit back into the country, it's not that much fun and it draws a lot of attention to your chevy astrovan as you block all traffic trying to reenter the country. Anyway Juarez is totally sealed off now as in if any white blonde girl tries to cross the border she doesn't come back. However the violence has not spilled into El Paso so we felt pretty safe the entire time we were there.
The first two days in the west were spent in Cloudcroft, New Mexico. It's a small town up in the mountains in New Mexico that makes you feel like you're in Colorado. You drive through about an hour and a half of desert to get to the mountain and then you watch as the terrain literally just morphs before your eyes. A classic example of this is you drive through White Sands, New Mexico 30 minutes before you reach Cloudcroft. White Sands is miles of pure white sand dunes surrounded by desert bush. I'll put pictures below.
White Sands
Cloudcroft
It was a wonderful little 2 day stay. We ate waaay too much food, did a little shopping at a the local arts fair, and played a ton of spades (a card game I enjoy but suck at).
Dedication
The school dedication was scheduled for the day after Memorial Day. That morning we met up with my great aunt and uncle who drove in from Globe, Arizona. My great aunt and uncle are pushing 80, they shouldn't drive...ever. But anyway they arrived and reminded me why my Uncle Jim is the best guy ever. My Great Uncle Jim, my great grandmothers son, was the supervisor of the Inspiration Mine in his hay day (largest copper mine in US). He's old, kinda racist/sexist, and wicked funny. My fondest memory is when he took me, my uncle, and two male cousins to the country club for 18 holes. I'm a God awful golfer and have no business on a course but when I connect with the ball I can make it go pretty far. Anyway after about 9 holes of super suckage I outdrove my Uncle Jim. At the end of the hole he turned to me and said, completely serious I might add, "Kid, you're tired, go home". The only thing you can say when Uncle Jim puts you in that situation is, "alright Uncle Jim...you're probably right".
Well Uncle Jim was on a roll when we met up with him. We went out for lunch and on the way there he was being his usual cocky self. He pulled a correct turn out of his ass and muttered "It's hard to be humble when you're practically perfect in every way". Ah good man. When we were driving back to the hotel he talked about how difficult it had been to find the hotel. He said "Now the directions were confusing but as a typical male chauvinist I blame Jacque (his wife)". It's a shame I only get to see him once a year at most.
At the dedication I sat next to my mother and younger sister. I was introduced to many people that worked with my great grandmother and most people thought I was my mothers son. Now, yes I've got a butchy haircut now and if I had been in cargo shorts and an old t-shirt I'd have expected it...but I was in dress pants, a button up, and flipping heels! I can't catch a break. One woman, after my mother corrected her on my sex, pulled me towards her and said "you may not want to cut your hair so darn short". Thanks, I'll consider it.
My uncle Jim gave a speech and apologized that he wouldn't be able to get to all his points because it was so damn hot. Yes, he said damn in front of 400 elementary school kids. It was hot though. I had to keep my arms glued to my sides after about 15 minutes because my pit stains were so obnoxious. Note to self, never wear a dress shirt without an undershirt in El Paso in June. Alright this post is really long, longer than I anticipated. I'll leave yall with a picture of the school, beautiful school.
Thursday, June 3, 2010
El Paso: Part One
I was away for 5 days last week in El Paso, Texas. El Paso is a small dirty town on the US/Mexico border that I have fallen in love with...it may have something to do with the mountains and the food. So many fun things happened down in El Paso, where to begin?
Pervert 3:00
My mother and I flew down to El Paso together meeting my sister, aunt, and uncle at the El Paso airport from their respective flights. There is an unwritten rule that exists between my mother and I...or at least between her and the rest of the world: I don't do babies and I get the window seat. My mother is the person that sits down only to leap to her feet and move when another mother sits down with a fussy child, and she doesn't hesitate to throw the offending mother a dirty look. I'm amazed I survived childhood without being muzzled. On empty flights this results in my mother taking the window seat and myself enjoying the aisle. This flight however to Phoenix (totally random layover) was completely full and I soon found myself staring at a fairly normal man trying to sit in the middle seat. Oh yeah...my mom doesn't sit next to strangers if I'm around. Basically that means if someone should come for the middle seat it is my job to scoot over, take the worst seat ever, and sit next to the stranger thus protecting my mother from babies and random chatty people (and yall wonder why I am the way I am).
So the guy sits down. He has a baseball cap pulled down low and and wraparound sunglasses on (inside the airplane). Honestly that should have tipped me off. However I was totally oblivious to his strangeness and just pretended he wasn't there. He pulled out a sports magazine, I gave him the "ok, I can do this" look and settled into my seat for the 2 hour ride. About an hour in the guy gets up and walks up the aisle to chat with a girl (I can only assume it's his girlfriend). He returns however with a magazine in a wrapper. I've never seen magazines that come in wrappers except National Geographic. No it wasn't National Geographic, it was Maxim. The guy is "reading" Maxim's top 100 women issue right next to me. Now I'm not saying he was reading the articles (that's why men buy smut right...for the great writing). Every now and then Mr. Perv would pick a page and hold it super close to his face, I guess he was trying to smell the fake tanner? It got worse though...he had to pull down the seat tray to hide his lap. A guy was flipping getting excited two inches from me...I mean I haven't been that close to a man in years! Honestly though I think the creapers are drawn to me. My sophomore year of college on a flight down to Arkansas a guy sat next to me and we started talking about law enforcement, he was in the National Guard/former cop and I was reading a crime book. It wasn't long before he leaned in real close so I could smell how the alcohol on his breath and asked me: "you know the number one accidental death?" He then proceeded to explain auto-erotic self-asphyxiation, you know when a guy chokes himself so more blood will flow to his dick while he's jacking off. Yeah, lovely conversation. Why do they always find me? My mom meanwhile is super happy in her window seat while I'm borderline being harassed by the guy with the stiffer next to me...thanks.
On the way from Phoenix to El Paso I sat next to a guy in a three piece suit playing a playstation portable. Does no one read the paper anymore?
Pervert 3:00
My mother and I flew down to El Paso together meeting my sister, aunt, and uncle at the El Paso airport from their respective flights. There is an unwritten rule that exists between my mother and I...or at least between her and the rest of the world: I don't do babies and I get the window seat. My mother is the person that sits down only to leap to her feet and move when another mother sits down with a fussy child, and she doesn't hesitate to throw the offending mother a dirty look. I'm amazed I survived childhood without being muzzled. On empty flights this results in my mother taking the window seat and myself enjoying the aisle. This flight however to Phoenix (totally random layover) was completely full and I soon found myself staring at a fairly normal man trying to sit in the middle seat. Oh yeah...my mom doesn't sit next to strangers if I'm around. Basically that means if someone should come for the middle seat it is my job to scoot over, take the worst seat ever, and sit next to the stranger thus protecting my mother from babies and random chatty people (and yall wonder why I am the way I am).
So the guy sits down. He has a baseball cap pulled down low and and wraparound sunglasses on (inside the airplane). Honestly that should have tipped me off. However I was totally oblivious to his strangeness and just pretended he wasn't there. He pulled out a sports magazine, I gave him the "ok, I can do this" look and settled into my seat for the 2 hour ride. About an hour in the guy gets up and walks up the aisle to chat with a girl (I can only assume it's his girlfriend). He returns however with a magazine in a wrapper. I've never seen magazines that come in wrappers except National Geographic. No it wasn't National Geographic, it was Maxim. The guy is "reading" Maxim's top 100 women issue right next to me. Now I'm not saying he was reading the articles (that's why men buy smut right...for the great writing). Every now and then Mr. Perv would pick a page and hold it super close to his face, I guess he was trying to smell the fake tanner? It got worse though...he had to pull down the seat tray to hide his lap. A guy was flipping getting excited two inches from me...I mean I haven't been that close to a man in years! Honestly though I think the creapers are drawn to me. My sophomore year of college on a flight down to Arkansas a guy sat next to me and we started talking about law enforcement, he was in the National Guard/former cop and I was reading a crime book. It wasn't long before he leaned in real close so I could smell how the alcohol on his breath and asked me: "you know the number one accidental death?" He then proceeded to explain auto-erotic self-asphyxiation, you know when a guy chokes himself so more blood will flow to his dick while he's jacking off. Yeah, lovely conversation. Why do they always find me? My mom meanwhile is super happy in her window seat while I'm borderline being harassed by the guy with the stiffer next to me...thanks.
On the way from Phoenix to El Paso I sat next to a guy in a three piece suit playing a playstation portable. Does no one read the paper anymore?
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