If my unemployment is going to end any time soon, it is going to be thanks to a member of the AARP. Last week a well-meaning man from church in his 70's referred me to a position at BU that ended up being a tenure-track professorial position! I sent my resume to the person he recommended, only to follow up later and find out I was 15 years underqualified. Whoops.
Today I met Vera, Ruth, Barbara, and Albert. They are my new friends around the corner at the nursing home in my neighborhood. Today was my first day visiting them. Boy did I enjoy myself! It wasn't without fear that I poked into their rooms this morning. Old people intimidate me. Unlike pets or children, they will yell at you or embarrass you if you accidentally cross them. They might even throw a gloppy milk carton! I guess kids could do this too, but it wouldn't be as humiliating. I decided to take a chance and signed up at the Brookline Rehabilitation Center to see what would happen.
Part of my impetus to volunteer at an Old Folks Home (still my favorite name for "Senior Care Facility") came from a comment one of my former ESL students made about the travesty of unvisited seniors in the U.S. I was struck when she reported reading that less than 10% of seniors get visited by family members each year in our country. Most of my guts came from my current unemployed status as a professional LOSER. (I am waiting to hear back from a temp agency-can you believe it?) I decided it was high time I got out of my apartment and back into society!!!
I laughed internally when the social worker who oriented me insisted that I refrain from touching any bodily fluids left on the floor or a bed, but to let the nurse clean them up instead. "Thanks for steeling me back, buddy, cuz I was really looking forward to mopping up some fluid!" An important reason why people don't visit seniors-the smell! (Not to be overlooked.) But this home is a pretty clean one and the windows look out on parks with good ventilation. My job today was to go room to room, checking in on people and introducing myself.
I botched things up a bit with a few 60 year-olds who had just had a mild stroke and were at the home for only a few days of recovery. I just about blasted them out of their wheelchairs trying to make sure my introductions were heard and understood. Their withering looks brought the volume down a few notches, and the speed/depth of our conversation back to reality. Point well taken.
But my biggest surprise was Ms. Barbara Jewett, age 76, with whom I spoke for over an hour. In spite of her age and health problems, she was so with it, by the time our conversation ended she was giving me tips on how to get a job! As I wheeled her to lunch before departing she mysteriously looked this way and that down the hall, then motioned for me to move closer. "Give your resume to...(pause, with furtive glance)...NICOLE!!!" she hissed in a voice half whispered, half mouthed. "Don't tell them I gave you her name, but I heard they were looking for someone in the business office! Just say you 'heard it through the grapevine!'"
God bless the old folks!
Tuesday, October 2, 2007
Sunday, September 23, 2007
P.S.
Did I mention he pooped in my SHOES??? Thank God for T.J. Maax or I might've paid full price for those!!! Die, Leopold, Die!
To catch a mouse...
Press Release, Associated Press
Boston, MA-This morning at approximately 2 am, residents Phil and Laura Saylor finally captured "Leopold", the supermouse, mouse of all mice, and fearless spawn of the dozens of droppings which have been driving them all but OUT OF OUR MINDS for the past three months. Caloo Calay, how they chortled in their bed to hear him squeal as his little foot finally stuck fast in one RAT-sized glue trap purchased at none other than an industrial size Chinese food service supply store yesterday.
Laura Saylor commented: "If you want to catch a mouse, my friends, the Chinese food supply industry is the place to turn for proper trappage."
The Saylor's mouse-fiend, a rodent smarter then a grown man with an M.D. and his dauntless wife, was sage enough to avoid any contraption that even sniffed of a live release. His demise followed seven sorts of traps set in approximately 30 locations in their Brookline apartment, at least that many types of bait, and frantic prayers stopping just shy of an exorcism.
Philip and Laura wonder what will fill the deep void left at his passing. They are considering investing time previously spent disinfecting their counters, floors, and consequently raw hands into blogging. They fear, however, that their readers may be overwhelmed with the deluge of musings and may thus opt for watching lame t.v. instead.
Boston, MA-This morning at approximately 2 am, residents Phil and Laura Saylor finally captured "Leopold", the supermouse, mouse of all mice, and fearless spawn of the dozens of droppings which have been driving them all but OUT OF OUR MINDS for the past three months. Caloo Calay, how they chortled in their bed to hear him squeal as his little foot finally stuck fast in one RAT-sized glue trap purchased at none other than an industrial size Chinese food service supply store yesterday.
Laura Saylor commented: "If you want to catch a mouse, my friends, the Chinese food supply industry is the place to turn for proper trappage."
The Saylor's mouse-fiend, a rodent smarter then a grown man with an M.D. and his dauntless wife, was sage enough to avoid any contraption that even sniffed of a live release. His demise followed seven sorts of traps set in approximately 30 locations in their Brookline apartment, at least that many types of bait, and frantic prayers stopping just shy of an exorcism.
Philip and Laura wonder what will fill the deep void left at his passing. They are considering investing time previously spent disinfecting their counters, floors, and consequently raw hands into blogging. They fear, however, that their readers may be overwhelmed with the deluge of musings and may thus opt for watching lame t.v. instead.
Wednesday, September 5, 2007
Late summer New England...
Oh my Lord, what a beautiful day! There is a faint, sweet smell of spices and soup in the air and the breeze is carrying it into my window. Signs of early fall have begun and appropriately, it has begun gently so we are able to appreciate each drop in degree. Thank God, the humidity has ceased! The air is cool and the sun is muted, creating one of those cloudless skies of DEEP blue that rarely exist (I never saw one the whole three years I lived in San Diego). The trees are yellowing at their edges, but the leafy bows hold on to their adornment in the breeze. Nothing is falling yet. The wind is crisp and clean and full of joy!
Sunday, August 12, 2007
Teaching, Part 2
As I sit here grading on a lovely Sunday afternoon, the breeze floating in through my window and catching corners of grammar tests to tempt them off the table and out into the day, I ask myself, what am I doing here again? It's groundhog day (thank you, Ethan for the image) and I am back in school again. I hated school! Every assignment was torturous. I have wiped the whole horrible memory of it all so well from my brain that I desire to go back to grad school.
My conclusion? Teaching is masochism. It taunts you with potentially wonderful friends (my students) you instead are forced to grade and discipline. It requires you to hold those who most interest you at arms length so as not to play favorites. It takes the joy out of any material that intrigues you as you must review it, and review it again so as not to make an idiot of yourself in front of the class. Not to mention you now associate that theme with the sick feeling you have in your stomach when you are in front of a critical audience.
Teaching is bad for one's health. It requires you eat and pee and sleep and read at odd times without any say. It gives you sore throats. It exposes you to 100's of people's germs you wouldn't otherwise come in contact with.
Teaching is bad for one's wardrobe. It forces you to live on an inhumane wage and scrimp on shopping at the very time you find yourself in front of crowds of Italians and Japanese every day. And don't lets speak again about the close-toed shoes rule.
Yet if I'm honest, without teaching, I wouldn't know wonderful people in the world like 11 year-old Lucas in Argentina who called me on the 4th of July after two years of silence to say "Hi, Miss Morris" (my maiden name). I recognized his voice immediately.
Without teaching I wouldn't know Ippei, this 20 year-old Japanese sweetheart in my class who plays base guitar and wears purple Keds everyday. I wouldn't get to hear his nightmarish, yet entertaining stories of the cabby who robbed him of $220 US for a taxi ride from one end of JFK airport to the other.
I would never have been close to my friends in Spain or have had the experience of being a missionary. I would never have found an awed appreciation for all those professors in college who received my anonymous but scathing reviews (forgive me, Lord!) I wouldn't have the guts to say, "no" to my kids or the authority to tell them what I want from them.
I would never have heard the story of my Korean female student Do Yoon who went to a vegetarian restaurant, saw a "Chickpea sandwich" on the menu and told the waitress with disgust, "I can't believe Americans eat baby chickens!"
My conclusion? Teaching is masochism. It taunts you with potentially wonderful friends (my students) you instead are forced to grade and discipline. It requires you to hold those who most interest you at arms length so as not to play favorites. It takes the joy out of any material that intrigues you as you must review it, and review it again so as not to make an idiot of yourself in front of the class. Not to mention you now associate that theme with the sick feeling you have in your stomach when you are in front of a critical audience.
Teaching is bad for one's health. It requires you eat and pee and sleep and read at odd times without any say. It gives you sore throats. It exposes you to 100's of people's germs you wouldn't otherwise come in contact with.
Teaching is bad for one's wardrobe. It forces you to live on an inhumane wage and scrimp on shopping at the very time you find yourself in front of crowds of Italians and Japanese every day. And don't lets speak again about the close-toed shoes rule.
Yet if I'm honest, without teaching, I wouldn't know wonderful people in the world like 11 year-old Lucas in Argentina who called me on the 4th of July after two years of silence to say "Hi, Miss Morris" (my maiden name). I recognized his voice immediately.
Without teaching I wouldn't know Ippei, this 20 year-old Japanese sweetheart in my class who plays base guitar and wears purple Keds everyday. I wouldn't get to hear his nightmarish, yet entertaining stories of the cabby who robbed him of $220 US for a taxi ride from one end of JFK airport to the other.
I would never have been close to my friends in Spain or have had the experience of being a missionary. I would never have found an awed appreciation for all those professors in college who received my anonymous but scathing reviews (forgive me, Lord!) I wouldn't have the guts to say, "no" to my kids or the authority to tell them what I want from them.
I would never have heard the story of my Korean female student Do Yoon who went to a vegetarian restaurant, saw a "Chickpea sandwich" on the menu and told the waitress with disgust, "I can't believe Americans eat baby chickens!"
Friday, August 3, 2007
A Looong Blog
Observations...
Shellfish
They may not be paying doctors these days what they used to, but oh the contrast in catered meals Phil & my employers offered us during our first month at our new jobs. Phil's "Welcome to Fellowship Clambake": Between the two of us, we managed to polish off 2 lobsters, a 1/2 lb. pile of "steamers" (clams & oysters), 2 bowls of clam chowder, a couple of fresh ears of corn, 2 sweet muffins, and a bowl of strawberry shortcake before the mosquitoes evicted us. (It was the mosquitoes or the nasty looks from the doctor sitting next to me who I'd squirted 15 times with lobster juice and corn before the meal was over. No joke.) Laura's school's "catered" lunch consisted of:
1)wonder bread in a bag
2)processed cheese (at least they had cheese!)
3) lettuce
4) bologna slices.
I am NOT kidding. This was the gratuitous lunch they offered us in lieu of payment for 1.5 hours of grading time on the last day of classes in July. What is it about teachers settling for such abuse? I was horrified not so much by the lack of pay, but rather by the lack of condiments. If you're going to serve me bologna, at least provide some mustard.
Bigfoot...
Did you know that in Boston, size 11 feet are considered freakish? So much so that the clerks who I've asked for flats in a size above mine (10) for the purpose of inserting insoles have looked at me like I've just spoken to them in Tagalog. Forget those gals in Cali who wear a size 12!!!
New Englanders on Change:
"We've been doing it this way for over 100 years-what's your problem?"
International hub...
Did you know that on the streets of Boston you can hear up to 15 different languages spoken each day? I'm not talking about my ESL students, Euro tourists, or even Spanish-speaking immigrants. I'm talking about crazy languages from Africa and the South Pacific that I couldn't even begin to identify. Cool!
A tribute to my beautiful day by the Charles...
Tonight I went to meet a group of Spanish students for a free outdoor movie (part of my all-hours crazy job) and they didn't show. At first I was depressed and felt all alone as I walked toward the subway line that runs back to our apartment. But then I decided I would rejoice in the Lord instead. All of a sudden, the path I was walking on broadened and opened to one of the most beautiful scenes I have witnessed ever in my life! There are these lovely canals that run by the Charles River and the sun was setting behind thick groves of trees and ducks were playing in the reeds that grew around the stony bridges crossing the canals. To my right was the river blowing in the warm breeze and covered in white sail boats. To my left were a row of 200 year-old brownstone buildings with green copper balconies covered in ivy and the Boston skyline behind them, shining in the sunset. What a gift! I feel so blessed to be here, in spite of the challenges of the move and getting started!
Shellfish
They may not be paying doctors these days what they used to, but oh the contrast in catered meals Phil & my employers offered us during our first month at our new jobs. Phil's "Welcome to Fellowship Clambake": Between the two of us, we managed to polish off 2 lobsters, a 1/2 lb. pile of "steamers" (clams & oysters), 2 bowls of clam chowder, a couple of fresh ears of corn, 2 sweet muffins, and a bowl of strawberry shortcake before the mosquitoes evicted us. (It was the mosquitoes or the nasty looks from the doctor sitting next to me who I'd squirted 15 times with lobster juice and corn before the meal was over. No joke.) Laura's school's "catered" lunch consisted of:
1)wonder bread in a bag
2)processed cheese (at least they had cheese!)
3) lettuce
4) bologna slices.
I am NOT kidding. This was the gratuitous lunch they offered us in lieu of payment for 1.5 hours of grading time on the last day of classes in July. What is it about teachers settling for such abuse? I was horrified not so much by the lack of pay, but rather by the lack of condiments. If you're going to serve me bologna, at least provide some mustard.
Bigfoot...
Did you know that in Boston, size 11 feet are considered freakish? So much so that the clerks who I've asked for flats in a size above mine (10) for the purpose of inserting insoles have looked at me like I've just spoken to them in Tagalog. Forget those gals in Cali who wear a size 12!!!
New Englanders on Change:
"We've been doing it this way for over 100 years-what's your problem?"
International hub...
Did you know that on the streets of Boston you can hear up to 15 different languages spoken each day? I'm not talking about my ESL students, Euro tourists, or even Spanish-speaking immigrants. I'm talking about crazy languages from Africa and the South Pacific that I couldn't even begin to identify. Cool!
A tribute to my beautiful day by the Charles...
Tonight I went to meet a group of Spanish students for a free outdoor movie (part of my all-hours crazy job) and they didn't show. At first I was depressed and felt all alone as I walked toward the subway line that runs back to our apartment. But then I decided I would rejoice in the Lord instead. All of a sudden, the path I was walking on broadened and opened to one of the most beautiful scenes I have witnessed ever in my life! There are these lovely canals that run by the Charles River and the sun was setting behind thick groves of trees and ducks were playing in the reeds that grew around the stony bridges crossing the canals. To my right was the river blowing in the warm breeze and covered in white sail boats. To my left were a row of 200 year-old brownstone buildings with green copper balconies covered in ivy and the Boston skyline behind them, shining in the sunset. What a gift! I feel so blessed to be here, in spite of the challenges of the move and getting started!
Friday, July 20, 2007
Happy Birthday, Julie!
Happy birthday to my most faithful (and, ahem, it appears ONLY) reader!
Here is a birthday salad recipe I came up with for you to make (it is SO yummy and quick since you are studyign so much german. It has four food groups all in one bowl!):
Julie's Greek Goddess Salad
-Sautee chicken breast stips in olive oil until golden brown and sprinkle with garlic salt and fresh ground pepper. Squeeze juice of one lemon over top and bring to a boil. Simmer until Chicken is cooked through (10 minutes)
-Toss stale bread cubes in butter and add garlic salt and oregano liberally. Bake at 350 for 10 minutes until golden and croutony
-Mix dressing: juice of one lemon, wine vinegar (either type), oregano, salt, pepper, olive oil, and one smashed garlic clove to taste. Add chopped fresh parsley if you have it.
Combine above ingredients with: red leaf lettuce, kalamata olives, halved grape tomatoes, vidalia onion shavings (vidalias are the sweetest), chunks of English cucumbers, and feta cheese.
YUMMMY BIRTHDAY, Julie!
Here is a birthday salad recipe I came up with for you to make (it is SO yummy and quick since you are studyign so much german. It has four food groups all in one bowl!):
Julie's Greek Goddess Salad
-Sautee chicken breast stips in olive oil until golden brown and sprinkle with garlic salt and fresh ground pepper. Squeeze juice of one lemon over top and bring to a boil. Simmer until Chicken is cooked through (10 minutes)
-Toss stale bread cubes in butter and add garlic salt and oregano liberally. Bake at 350 for 10 minutes until golden and croutony
-Mix dressing: juice of one lemon, wine vinegar (either type), oregano, salt, pepper, olive oil, and one smashed garlic clove to taste. Add chopped fresh parsley if you have it.
Combine above ingredients with: red leaf lettuce, kalamata olives, halved grape tomatoes, vidalia onion shavings (vidalias are the sweetest), chunks of English cucumbers, and feta cheese.
YUMMMY BIRTHDAY, Julie!
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