We Will Not Be Who We Were Part 2

As the auto industry reorganizes in my state and elsewhere, other places and pursuits fall with the factories. I am not employed in the auto industry, but my husband was before he retired, as were (and are) many relatives and friends. I am employed at a community college that I was proud of before I was ever an employee there. I am a strong believer in the community college mission: a well-run community college is a great equalizer, giver of second chances, and picker-up of slack in the system. It is also a trainer of first responders.

When I am walking on our pretty little urban campus and I see future EMTs rehearsing emergencies or nursing students discussing their assignments or field work as they stand in a lunch line, I think about how these are the people who might be the ones to save my life if necessary before I ever see a doctor. I took the Legal Assistant program at the college myself and met lots of very sharp people either already involved in law and some who were trying to make their Bachelor’s degrees more marketable. I didn’t see so many of the people who were being trained for a more high-tech auto industry because that was located on a new campus on the other side of town close to the new factory.

I was very proud to be doing what I do as well. It is a bit tricky to discuss one’s current employer in a public forum, but here is why I feel compelled to write about this: I am the kind of person who needs to process losing the old thing before I can commit myself to the new thing…so here’s what happened. Because a community college obviously depends on public funds, and because the economy here has been bad for some time and no one is predicting a quick recovery here, there were a number of job losses (retirements, layoffs, non-replacement of people in vacant positions). Several departments were reorganized or eliminated, including ours.

I was part of a lovely department called International Programs. That eventually merged with our Multicultural Programs, and we had several Study Abroad Programs designed to enhance our curricula and to serve our students (who because of their nature or circumstances are very budget-minded.) We also hosted folks visiting from other countries a few times a year, and one year I got to be a part of that, teaching a little English/American Culture class and hosting a couple visitors. Mostly what I did and do though, is teach English to students who are preparing for academic programs in the United States. Now the department is gone, but I guess I should be thankful that our group was assigned to another department.

We will lose our workspace, which I have since discovered, shared and cramped as it sometimes felt, it was actually quite luxurious compared to other adjunct workspaces. We had places that we sort of adopted that became “ours” (you knew which desk to find someone at on certain days of the week. My de facto deskmate and I are friends, somewhat equally messy and tolerant of each other, and now that will be gone. We will be assigned workspace and work time, and will have a drawer to store our stuff. (After eight years there, I think I will need some serious space at home to store the stuff I have accumulated).

Because our students meet at the same time, many members of our department are close and we do a lot of informal collaboration. Many of us have strong friendships outside of work as well, but seeing each other at work in spite of busy lives at home helped sustain those relationships during big life changes. And I was part of someone’s dream: my original boss (now retired) created this program many years ago, and it was quite remarkable. He is from Korea, and once received a medal from the Emperor of Japan for improving Korean-Japanese relations. I think those of us who worked for him always felt we were part of something very special, like in our own little contributions, we were promoting World Peace or something like that. It was much more to us than a part-time job to help pay the bills.

Now we have been made part of another department. I like our new boss very much, and where we are centered is pleasant enough. Now, though, it feels as if we ESL faculty have no “home.” There is no place to build our little work nest.

And finally, though we will have international students, and they might have more of a chance to interact with domestic students, it seems like there will be fewer opportunities for our domestic students to have international opportunities. There will be a liaison with the nearby university for Study Abroad, but our programs were geared for our students.

I will be positive eventually, and my friends all love what we do and we will make it work. But, as in Part 1, we will not be who we were, and that just feels sad right now.

We Will Not Be Who We Were Part 1 (And yes, there will be a Part 2 this time)

First of all, in the overall scheme of things, I probably have no right to complain. There is still plenty to eat, the bills are getting paid, and there is some money for fun. My community has lost factories and jobs, but has a shiny new one and a still-standing older one. We still produce vehicles that sell here, and will have another model. However, when I start paying for my own vision and dental care, and perhaps mammograms or however the overall insurance aspect plays out, there will be less of that discretionary income, and that’s the point where others start going down with us, I guess.

The hard thing is this: people don’t understand Who We Are, and the media has tried to convey this, but not very well, because they choose mostly folks who fit their Central Casting stereotypes: Clueless High-Level Auto Executive and Salt-of-the Earth Union Family (3 generations), for example. Of course, those folks exist, but there are so many others. An auto plant is like a little city: there are line folks, people who sweep the floors, carpenters, millwrights, plumbers, electricians and various departments such as paint, trim, body, and so on. My husband had various positions throughout his career, starting on the line and ending as a planner and getting to work overseas.

What I learned over the years is all of these are complex operations. I also met a lot of people (or heard about a lot of people and personalities). There are, for instance, college graduates who worked on the line or in skilled trades because the money was good. I have met some very smart, funny, clever people in the industry over the years, and I did not see these people on TV. I have met folks who are passionate about cars (perhaps with an old beloved model in their garage that they love to tinker with) and loved being in the auto industry. I did not see those people, or if they were on TV, certainly not with the frequency and emphasis of the others I mentioned.

What I did like about the three-generation family is what they conveyed-- this is what we do here. Grandpa did it, Dad or Mom did it, and I was hoping to do it too. The majority of people I have known in my life work or are supported directly or indirectly by the auto industry. Even though I have never worked for it (but am fed by it), I consider it part of Who I Am. This is what we do here.

I will certainly admit there were some problems, but stereotypes and prejudices exacerbated some of those problems. When service awards were being won and models were winning awards and receiving high ratings, we weren’t hearing so much about that. Because my stepson was involved in the launch of one of those award-winning vehicles, I am somewhat aware of the blood, sweat and tears that go into making that happen.

I have been reading Barbara Kingsolver’s book Animal, Vegetable, Miracle, and found myself astounded to be sympathetic to a passage in which she remembers a college party (“one of those intensely conversational gatherings of the utterly enlightened”) at which people were discussing the “evils of tobacco.” She asked: “What about the tobacco farmers?” (This had been her family’s livelihood) Somebody asked: “Why should I care about tobacco farmers?” I would not have understood at all a year ago, but now I know what she means when she writes:

I’m still struggling to answer that. Yes, I do know people who have died
wishing they had never seen a cigarette. Yes, it’s a plant that causes cancer
after a long line of people (postfarmer) have specifically altered and abused
it. And yes, it takes chemicals to keep blue mold off the crop. And it sends
people to college. It makes house payments, buys shoes, and pays doctor bills.
it allows people to live with their families and shake hands with their neighbors
in one of the greenest, kindest places in all the world.

Now I am the last person on earth who will defend tobacco. However, what she captures in this and subsequent paragraphs is that when we gleefully celebrate the demise of something like tobacco (or logging, or the auto industry or whatever), there are more than evil Snidely Whiplash corporate executives finally getting their comeuppance and the deliverance of their clueless pawns. There is the loss of a way of life, not only financially, but of having a way to think of ourselves and What We Do. And it hurts.

My Unsettling Junior Boomer Kind of Day

First of all, I must explain that I have never identified too much with the Baby Boomer label, even though I was born in the time period that covers. The older members of that demo had the VietNam War to contend with as well as the massive culture shift. By the time I reached my formative teen years and young adulthood, there were just not the same issues. I also graduated from college as a recession was ending and the Senior Boomers already had most of the jobs. However, I have two Senior Boomer siblings and a spouse, which often makes me feel younger than I actually am.

So...my morning started with my radio alarm going off. I had forgotten I had set it to a classic rock station. So I vaguely hear..."first live recording in 1967...during...the Beatles All You Need is Love...with Mick Jagger and Donovan among the members of the chorus..." Blah blah blah, I'm still half asleep. Then I hear something like..."This classic rock moment has been brought to you by the Burcham Hills Retirement Center." Boom! I'm awake, thinking "That's the wrong commercial for this demographic." I used to visit an elderly lady from my churh at Burcham Hills (which also has an assisted living center.) And then I realize, "Oh my gosh. It's not. It's exactly right. My husband is retired."

Then after returning to work after lunch (I had come home to feed the dog and let him out) I heard that Farrah Fawcett had died as I was parking my car. I sat in the car and listened to the story.. As I got out of the car, tears just inexplicably started rolling down my face. I was not a fan of Charlie's Angels...not my kind of thing, plus it was known as a "jiggle" show and I was developing my feminist sensibilities, such as they are, at that time. However, I always thought she was beautiful and had amazing hair even in the magazine shampoo ads in which I first noticed her (pre-Angels.) I also thought she did great work in The Burning Bed, which I paid special attention to because it involved people in a town near where I lived at that point...the case was frequently discussed in the local media. (It was a good movie, but I always wondered why the Michigan people had Texas accents. Most Michigan accents are more like Chicago-lite or Canada-lite or Sarah Palin-lite, depending on the combination of where you live and your parents are from.)

I was thinking about how in my college dorm so many of the young men had that Farrah poster in their rooms. Seriously, it was everywhere. I had to stop in the rest room and collect myself before I went to teach my class; I did not know why this was affecting me so.

And then later as I was reading something on AOL, in the more often than not extremely stupid comments, someone said something about Michael Jackson being dead. I thought it was a Mikey pop-rocks, Wikipedia false info planting kind of thing, then the local news said "TMZ is reporting..." (And I thought "Really? TMZ?") and then finally, Brian Williams was saying it.

I have two Michaels in my memory: Michael, the boy my age with pictures in Tiger Beat magazine who sang with his brothers, then Thriller Michael whose video "world premiere" I watched with my husband and stepkids before I became a mother myself. The much later Michael was definitely disturbing but I always wondered why no one seemed to be helping this clearly troubled man who pretty much had his childhood stolen from him.

I feel sad and old today.

Tad

I don't remember when I started wanting a dog. I know it was some time after my cat died because while I missed my kitty a lot, I sort of enjoyed being pet-free for a while. However,once I started campaigning for a dog, my husband wasn't quite ready. He likes dogs, and had one when he was younger. I had them as well. We tried having two dogs when my son was very young, but neither of those worked out. There was a beagle who liked to run all the time and was always burrowing under the fence and escaping. We sold him. Then there was a German Shepherd, a gift to my son, and he chewed up everything...carpets, remote controls, you name it. When we put him outside he would bark incessantly. I'm sorry to say we "surrendered" him. If we knew now what we knew then, we probably would have been able to work with him effectively.

I think the thing that intensified my wanting a dog and led to my husband's agreeing to it was watching The Dog Whisperer on the National Geographic channel. If you have never seen it, it features a man named Cesar Millan who works with problem dogs. He is amazing with dogs, and has a very compelling story of his own. My husband started to say we could perhaps get a dog once he retired, then as that grew closer, that maybe we should wait until a year after he retired to see what our life was like. Then, this past year, he said we could perhaps get a dog in the spring.

The dog we ended up with was completely different from my fantasy dog. I thought I'd like a little bichon frise that I could pamper and dress in silly dog clothes and let sit on my lap. I was going to buy one of these from a reputable breeder at some point, but I have two friends at work who are dog lovers. One gently and persistently scolded and made me feel incredibly guilty for thinking about buying a dog, encouraging breeding, when so many dogs in shelters needed to be adopted. (She and her husband have had three rescue sheepdogs.) Another friend has a second job at the local Humane Society, and often talked about the little friends she fosters to save them from being euthanized.

I started looking for bichon frises on rescue sites. They were available, but often had some kind of big problem or weren't good with children. I learned though, that Petsmart had an adoption event the first weekend in May (this is a nationwide event that takes place at lots of pet supply stores, shelters, etc.) I had my husband pull in at a Petsmart when we were on the yuppie side of town buying wine, and Tad was the first dog we saw. We played with him for a while and liked him a lot. He was no bichon frise, though. He is a Chesapeake Bay Retriever mix (another part of the mix, being dachsund, we were told). My husband thought we should look around some more, including at the Petsmart on our side of town. I agreed, but couldn't stop thinking about Tad. We looked at other dogs, but I just really felt that Tad was our dog. It almost looked like it wasn't going to happen, but by the next Wednesday, he was home with us.

Happily putting off the inevitable

I decided to drop the Client-Based Website Development class for the summer and take it in the fall instead. Even though I will now have to take it at the same time I'm doing my practicum, I am absolutely convinced I made the correct decision. I will have a much better idea of what to expect (particularly that first week); I have the textbook, so I can preview. I have a set of DVD's which explain the program we were going to use. Even if they change a few things, I will have a chance to familiarize myself with concepts.

One of the things I found intimidating was the amount of work and the speed at which it was expected to be completed. At the same time, there was an expectation stated that we were to do everything possible to find our own solutions (in the lectures, videos, readings, of course) and do some research on our own. It became clear that, for me, this class was going to be a full-time summer job.

I kept looking at my pool as my husband opened it, the neighborhood parks to which I have been taking my new dog Tad (more about him in another post), and some of the lovely days we have been enjoying lately. I decided I had no desire whatsoever to spend my summer chained to my laptop. Summer is short, and even shorter where I live. My job will start up again in a couple weeks, but now I will have some time to enjoy the down time. I can also spend some time to set my life up to accommodate the enormous workload I am anticipating in the fall.

Back in Tech (for relative beginners) Hell

I have another "tech"-type class; this or something like it is required, so I will have to take it sooner or later, but I am seriously thinking about dropping it for the summer.

There are a variety of reasons:

1. Two professors/instructors have decided to team-teach it, and I only signed on for one of them. I like one (the one I actually signed on for), but find the other one's delivery unlistenable. I know that sounds really mean, and I'm not usually like that (I hope), but this is a stressful subject for me and I find his verbal quirks even more stress-inducing. Because it is an online class, I can't know other things about him that will humanize the experience and soften my attitude about being instructed by him.

It also seems to me that if it was so much work that it requires two professors to teach/grade the class, does that not imply there is an overload of work? Keep in mind this is a program (a school, now) in which the average age of students is in the upper 30's (implying jobs, houses, kids, etc.)

2. Although it was highly stressed in the (late) opening lecture that, partly because of the updated Course Management System, assignments will absolutely not be accepted late, there are not similar qualms about having all the lectures up on the class day (which appears to be Wednesday). Obviously this is a class that requires intense time management, but that is not possible when one can't predict when all the lectures will be available.

In fairness, we were told what we needed in terms of downloading software a week ahead of time. However, without lectures, there was no way to contextualize whether the end results were correct (e.g." Is this what this should look like if I have done it correctly, or is there a miising piece?"" It is never as straightforward as they think it is.

(Not to stereotype, but techie-types are fond of saying things are intuitive...yeah, if you're a TECHIE!! I think relatively good grammar and straightforward communication should be intuitive too...to a point, yes, but unless you are wired that way or familiar with the territory, you will require some guidance in terms of current standards for various situations or some idea of what an end result will look like.)

3. Because of all the new tech being used--new programs, updated systems--the instructors themselves had some issues. In the confusion, each thought the other had sent out passwords via e-mail to get on the server. They (well, one of them) has also forgotten to include some key information in one of the lectures).

4. The program we are using requires burning an .iso onto CD, a capability my computer does not appear to have (although I plan to investigate further). We are told we can do it at the university, but keep in mind many of us are distance learners; going to the university is a 90-120 minute ride for me.

One might ask why I am not actually doing the work instead of whining on my blog. Well, I think this is productive. I found when I did the first tech class, doing a little blogging about it unloaded some of the anxiety and helped me to focus on the tasks. It also relieves the pressure (slightly) on those who live with me and have to hear about these things. If I want to be all teacher-y about it, I will say I am being reflective. Now, back to work to see if this is really how I want to spend my summer.

Getting closer...

Looking back I see I started a lot of things with a #1, like I was going to write more. Well, vacation is long over, and I frequently write about things that agitate me, so I don't know what that was all about. Perhaps I thought if I did that, I would actually keep posting.

Mostly what has been going on lately is lots of family gatherings and lots of homework. In fact, there is a relatively big project due for my online class by midnight tomorrow night. I have very little accomplished, but I don't work tomorrow so I think I should be able to do it. I actually pulled my first all-nighter in years Friday night trying to get the previous one done. (It ended up about four-and-a-half hours late.)

I'm starting to get close to the end of my program. I have an online class this summer --Creating Client Web Sites or something like that. After the technology class last fall, I am very afraid (even though I got an A; yay for grade inflation!) Then in the fall I have my practicum, which I arranged my very own self. I will do it in a high school and junior high libraries at a lovely suburban school district. I used to sub there from time to time, but I haven't worked there for over a year (and hadn't been there much the year before that) so it's all Hoyle. Then I graduate!

However, I think that is why I'm getting a bit irresponsible, in that self-defeating way some people can get when they are getting close to something they want. I know I will see it through though. I have invested too much time and money not to.

I have also started volunteering at a library at a Catholic elementary school. This is a world I no longer inhabit (and I never went to Catholic school like my brother and sister did), so I am finding it quite fascinating. When I went in Monday a girl was reciting the Hail Mary (for peace, I think she said) over the P.A. The library has most of the normal books you would expect to see in an elementary school library, but lots of religious ones too. The kids are so sweet you could eat 'em with a spoon. There are, of course, pictures of saints and other religious iconography all over the hallway walls. A sign in the bathroom says you should wash your hands as long as it takes to sing a particular praise song (which I happen to know from my Episcopalian days.)

Well, I guess it's time to get to work.

Things that agitate me #1

Perhaps it's because I just got home from vacation last week just to start fighting a nasty cold, but there is much that is on my nerves lately. The first thing is something that has always annoyed me, but is particularly unbearable now. I know it's really silly, and maybe I unknowingly do it myself, but I really hate when people say "Look" in a conversation or when they explain something on TV. It's sexist, I know, but I particularly hate when men do it. It seems needlessly aggressive. I feel like in their heads, they are immediate following it with "moron" or "a#*!ole."I just want to shout back, "No! You Look!" I'm not saying this is sane or anything. It just is.

Another thing is when people (again, especially, but not exclusively, men) gesture with their index finger. I had a student do that to me recently who was challenging me on when I had said something was due. I was willing to concede he might be right, but then all I could see was that finger pointing at me, filling me with white hot rage. Fortunately, I'm pretty-self aware and can keep fairly calm, and just asked him to please not do that. I also think it might be that he is from a culture which, fairly or unfairly, is not considered particularly woman-friendly. However, this student has always been respectful to me, and felt bad that he offended me, and I felt bad I had not waited until after class to say something. I tried to explain in class that this is not necessarily an American thing but more of a Mary thing. And again, I'm not sure if I do it too sometimes.

I think it would be helpful if there was some way I could get in people's heads and see what their intentions are...or get inside my own and see why these things are so bothersome.