Mean White Girls

I just recently started a job where I work with a completely female staff.  One really nice thing is that this job hires all ethnicities, races and religions.  Interestingly, that's a first from my experience, and I have found that I rather like it.  Learning about someone, who they are and where they come from are a fascinating part of my day.  However, I have noticed something strange, overall, (with a few exceptions of course) the women who have made me feel the most welcome, and part of the group, have been the beautiful ladies, largely of racial backgrounds other than "white" girls. Now, I am not saying that this is a fair judgement or assessment by any means, but it is the white girls who have the tendency to come across as self-centered, rude and generally unfriendly.  

I've spent a lot of time mulling this over.  Is this a localized phenomenon?  Is it simply a personality clash? I can't expect to get along with everyone.  Is it because I am not in the position to really get to know them? Is it a broken reflection of Caucasian culture? Or, is it me? Am I actually the same way?Am I unwelcoming and suspicious of people who are new to my environment?

Daring to hazard a guess, I would say it is possibly the way that I am perceiving the situation, by oversimplifying complex, long term work relationships.  However, it started to make me wonder, would I behave the same way if I wasn't the one desperate to make an "adult" human connection to embrace during a day filled with never-ending demands from tiny lips and adorable faces?  Do I react this way when a new-comer (a new white girl) is trying to become a part of my world?  

It deeply saddens me to remember times when I have behaved coldly, not allowing someone new in my world the simple comfort and of easy, friendly acceptance.  In the grand scheme of things, a small kindness is not requiring the other to prove their own worth.  

As a Christian, I want to believe that my belief system of loving others, and accepting others as they are comes naturally to me, but maybe it's not as natural as I thought.  Maybe it takes effort, the effort to step outside of the insecurities I have built within myself, perhaps to even step outside of my own cultural limitations in being kind and loving to ladies from all cultures - even my own.  To not see every other white woman as a threat, judging her immediately without giving her the same benefit of doubt that I would enjoy myself. 

Through all of these new experiences, I am learning that I don't have to be defensive or caustic, that what other people express is more about me than about them, and it's my job to love them where they're at.  To be kind to them no matter how they respond to me...especially to the white girls. 

Smiling on the Train

BELVEDERE STATION
I recently started a new job in that I am blessed enough to have to take Edmonton's LRT to work. To be honest I was scared to do it, but now that I am, I wish that the LRT went absolutely everywhere in Edmonton. My daily reprieve from fighting rush-hour traffic has not only been an interesting experience, it has also allowed me to start reading again - an activity I much prefer to driving.

COLISEUM STATION
Every morning and afternoon, I find myself (sometimes stuffed) into a high-speed rail car, shoulder to shoulder with old men balanced on canes, small children pasted to train windows, middle aged working girls, strange smelling college students and me.  The train is an interesting place, it's a small, confined space, where people feel obligated not to speak too loudly, and to avoid eye, and more importantly, bodily contact at all cost.

STADIUM STATION
Interestingly, being with this segment of the population day in and out, has brought out some surprising responses from me.  The first - snap judgements, both positive and negative. I JUDGE people - readily, and almost immediately. I don't know if being sort of sequestered in my own mind, in a roomful of people has brought that out, but I am shocked at the judgements I make. A woman with blonde hair, and glasses, wearing a nurses uniform must be kind, and happy with the fulfilling work that she accomplishes, saving lives each day. A young man, covered with strange tattoos, nearly asleep, slouched in the corner and taking up far too much room on a crowded train, is obviously a criminal miscreant.

CHURCHILL STATION
I found that these judgements come quickly, and if I am not being aware of what I am thinking about, I allow myself to pass these kinds of qualifications on any person I come across.  Especially if something about that person is irritating.  For example, a few mornings ago, I found myself across the aisle from a Dad, a pregnant Mom, and a young boy around four or five.  The young boy was loud, and rude to his parents, when they asked him questions, or tried to share information from them.  The most horrible thought came to my mind. Great - You're working on raising yet another self centered drain on society who clearly has no boundaries and has never even heard the word NO, and you're going to have another one. CONGRATULATIONS.

BAY/ENTERPRISE SQUARE STATION
Not to mention, on my ride home on Friday, the Police were on board the train, checking passengers tickets. They made their way slowly through our car, checking each ticket carefully.  Passing me, they moved to a young man sitting behind me.  Well, he had no ticket, and do you want to hear his excuse? "It must have fallen out of my pocket as I raced down the stairs to the Train.  My first thought - Yeah, right buddy. Got caught free-loading eh? As if the embarrassment isn't enough, what this poor guy really needs is MORE judgement.  I mean, he was forced to get off the train at the next stop, and probably ticketed for $150.  Sure, it's easy to call him a free-loader, some jerk who thought he could get away with using the train for free.  But maybe, that isn't all there is. 

CORONA STATION
 Maybe there's more to the story.  As easy as it is to judge someone, it is equally as simple to wonder.  What if he didn't have the money, but needed to take the train? What if he was going to visit a sick friend, and the train was his only choice, and he spent his money on picking up a prescription for his friend? Ok, I know, as a writer I tend to exaggerate, and the most likely story is usually true, but it has started to make me wonder about EACH person I see on the train. What's your story? Are you what you appear to be?

GRANDIN/GOVERNMENT CENTER STATION
It has made me stop and wonder - what are the snap judgements people make about me? Staring at myself in the reflected lights of the passing city, I've started to wonder, Are you what YOU appear to be? I have taken the time to study my tired looking, sometimes fairly homely reflection, bundled in an over-sized coat, continually popping cough drops, trying to smother those same coughs. (It's been a tough February!) I wonder what other people think. Oh seriously! Of course I get to sit next to the cougher, can't you just stay at home? Spare the rest of us your disease?

UNIVERSITY STATION
At the very least, it those thoughts have made me take pause in my judgements. To look for the good in people. I have found it is as easy to wonder, and think kind things about people, as it is to think the negative, and believe the negative about someone right away. On a particularly slow ride, due to construction, the conductor's voice came in over the speaker. He started to talk, to share events from the day - actually it was the day the women won Gold in both curling and hockey, he told jokes, he shared information about the LRT, and made the ride generally pleasant as people started to smile and laugh with each other. That got me thinking - it doesn't take much. 

HEALTH SCIENCES/JUBILEE STATION 
Seeing people as valuable, not judging who they are or what they are makes it less difficult to wade through the thousands of silent thoughts floating around the train car.  Now, it doesn't mean that as of yet I have been brave enough to actually hold a conversation with someone, but, I can smile at them, say hello, and thank you. In fact, I have a secret project that I am working on currently. There's a young woman who, every morning is standing at the front door of Belvedere station handing out newspapers. I smile and say Good morning every morning. I am hoping to one day get her to smile. So far...no luck...but she did say 'morning once.

Thank you for riding the LRT with me today, and I've learned to stop seeing strangers, and to start seeing people.


ADDITIONAL THOUGHTS - added Feb.28, 2014

What a difference a week can make.  When I wrote this post, I didn't know how truly critical it would become for me this week.  In a strange way, it was like I was speaking to my future self. Last night, as I settled in for the ride home, I met a young woman with red hair, and the most interesting tattooed eyebrows I have ever seen. I wanted to tell her that I thought so, but shied away at the last minute for fear of being "weird" or too "intimate" with a stranger. That young woman never made it off at the next stop.  She collapsed in the doorway of the train, and stopped breathing. All I could do was watch, and pray, and pray, and pray. Though she was given CPR almost immediately, and though there was even a Doctor on board the train, she never responded.  It was like watching something surreal, and the five or six of us from that car of the train, who gathered around her were all pulling for her, all hoping she would start breathing on her own. Every time the attendants were asked, is she breathing? And the response was negative, it was like we all would let out a collective sigh of sadness and disappointment. 

I don't know what happened to her, she wasn't yet breathing when the train finally pulled out of the station. I pray that somehow, because she was only 22, that she pulled through. But, what I saw, should be a credit not only to the LRT, but also to the Edmontonians on board.  We gathered around her, working together, a congress of strangers who wanted nothing more than to help this woman, who was all alone and in the most desperate moments of her life.  I can tell you, it wasn't hard to see people then, to see the worry, the concern, the effort at finding an answer that would help this woman - and in all of the upset, and sadness, and fear, there were people willing to do whatever was needed to help.

We live in a good city, a great city, a wonderful community - willing to look evil in the eye, and do what is right.

Imagine

There was a place

I used to live

it was

Beautiful

it was

My own

But now it's

starting to look

a little run down

a little old

a little forgotten

the wind is cooler

the grass has faded

rich emerald

to just green and though

the sky and water are

still blue

only blue not sapphire

the once friendly faces

look at me

like strangers now

the castles are overgrown with

climbing ivy

ponds are thick with algae

the gates are closed

because years ago

I found my prince

and I could stop looking

I didn’t need them

any more

but I am finding that

I need them now

even though 

I feel 

guilty

spending time with

them instead of

here

where my time is demanded

but land needs to grow

again

this is my wish

my hope

my fondest dream

to be able to live in

both worlds

always


J.Haveman
2013

My Pretty One

My Pretty One

 

The girl she is still hides away

On black of black

In color’s fray

She sings the dawn

Brings close the day

But sinks to back

Where eyes don’t stay

Call me here

My pretty one

Let us dance

Beneath the sun

And on the moon

In dust we run.

Believe the truth

That you are fair

So heart to heart

As one, a snare

I shall have you

My heart does dare

Call me here, my pretty one.

J. (Farrell) Haveman

1999

 

Adventures in Freezer Meals

Ok, so I know I'm not one of those "Practical" Bloggers, I like to get what's in my head out. BUT - For those of you who enjoy a more practical look at life, and who appreciate a challenge will want to know about our day of "40 Freezer Meals in 4 Hours."

Everyone knows that when the two adults in the house are back at work, dinner time can take a significant hit. To save some time, we didn't reinvent the wheel, instead we borrowed a set of recipes from a website and went from there.

http://whoneedsacape.com/2012/11/crockpot-freezer-cooking/

The woman who writes this website miraculously made all forty freezer meals in four hours, and had a clean kitchen, and it seems that she did it all on her own. We learned that in the past few days, that is something akin to running a marathon. HOWEVER, if there are two willing participants in your household, with two days, a wad of cash and nothing to do, why not give it a try.  You can call it a "Marriage Strengthening Exercise".

We started out yesterday, and between the items we already had and the items we needed to purchase, we had all of our shopping done in visits to two stores in about exactly two hours.  Now, many of the Freezer Meals websites claim that they were able to stock their freezers for around $250.  We weren't quite that successful, but we attributed that to the fact that a lot of these estimates come from bloggers in the USA, and meat prices down there are...well, enviable to say the least.  The protein component was definitely the most cost consuming, and the sheer amount makes me believe that Costco now has our pictures posted in the poultry department with a big WARNING sign over our heads.  However, even though the cost was higher, it is a fraction of the cost of using a weekly meal plan over two months.

This morning was prep time.  It took us around two hours to get all veggies and meat diced, chopped and ready to go.  I would say the only frustration at this point was translating some of the required amounts from the recipes to actual amounts for prep.  For example, I peeled 18 cloves of garlic, when I should have peeled more like 30, but those little kinks were easy to work out, and because I chose a working partner who is also a genius, our amounts were right on.

 

I would say the more challenging part came in putting the meals together. We started out by laying out the recipes and the already prepped freezer bags, it helped us keep everything organized. We set up a sort of assembly line, and decided to work through each recipe, one at a time, in order to make sure that we didn't miss any ingredient in any meal.  Amazingly enough, we hardly had any leftovers.

The Results -

Well, we weren't able to finish in four hours, it took us about six (and our kitchen looks a little like something exploded in there), but we were able to create 43 freezer to crock pot meals. We are really excited about the overall cost and time savings - after all, my most dreaded Saturday morning task is always trying to figure out what to eat for the week. Not to mention we are eager to try out the many different recipes that we worked on putting together this afternoon.

So, if you are interested in trying a little experiment of your own, let me know! I'll be sure to do a followup to let you know how they all turned out!

Lessons from the Unemployment Line

When I started this "journey" over six months ago, I had this idea that I knew what life was all about - that I knew what I was all about.  I thought that all I needed was for a job to come along, a job that would justify my decisions, that would affirm my identity, and that would give me self confidence and fix all the problems in my marriage, my home, my life.  Pretty tall order, huh? All I needed to do was get a job, so I could be the one to provide for my family.  I didn't see it coming, but it all seemed to be a perfect recipe for change.

1. Finding God in Spilled Milk

Ok, so yes - Stay-At-Home Moms have perks.  I've never been able to sleep through the latter half of SVU on the job - but honestly my attitude toward these special ladies has gone through transformation.  There have been times that I loved staying home, being with my kids and experiencing every special moment with them, but I am ashamed to say that there were moments where I lost my identity, my self-control, and was selfish - playing the victim stuck with all of the work.  There were days I sat, not accomplishing anything productive, merely because I had lost my identity.  What is the most common question when you meet someone new? What kind of work do you do? Suddenly, I didn't have an answer to that, when I was teaching I was always proud to say, I'm a teacher - like I was out impacting the lives of my students at every possible moment, like I knew something, like in that statement someone could derive the fact that I was confident, knowledgeable, and an expert in my field.  Worthy of their friendship, attention and praise.  Now, what could I say? Oh - I'm a stay at home Mom - I do diapers, unpopular lunches, spilled milk and tantrums. It was like I could hear what they were thinking about me, because I knew what I was thinking about Stay-At-Home Moms.  I had this idea that they were women who had married wealthy husbands, who were uneducated, women who were able to spend their time shopping, on manicures, and lunch dates with their friends.  I was jealous of their fine homes, lovely Mom cars, and perfectly dressed children. Coming face to face with that ugly prejudice shook me. I was jealous, and I was wrong.  Stay-At-Home Moms sacrifice, giving whatever they have to create the very best life for their children, they build their identities without any affirmation from any "job", and they work as hard as any person who goes to work.  Staying at home with my kids was a blessing that not many get, having the chance to get to know them, and experience the day to day was priceless.  To all my sweet ladies, my Dear Stay-At-Home Moms, you are important, you are treasured.  God has given you such a huge responsibility, and you carry it with grace and compassion. You may never be recognized for all that you do, or promoted to CEO of the house, but you have been given the most important job in the world, and your Heavenly Father lies your identity. Forgive me for not understanding. I understand now, and at the deepest part of me I am sad to leave it behind for now. 

2. Anger Disguised as Victimization is Still Anger...

When I left the job I had at VCS, I was angry.  When I left the job I had at EMA, I was angry.   Neither situation had been "fair", and in both I found myself feeling caged, backed into a corner with no recourse, in the first I'd had a job ripped from me that I had loved because of what other people had done.  I had been forced to choose between what was right and a place where my heart was. I ached for it, like a legitimate loss.  In the second I felt wronged, accused of something that was unthinkable for me, that destroyed my confidence in a job that I loved.  It was easy to be the victim. To sit and cry over all that had happened to me, to blame God for leaving me all alone.  It was easy to believe as I was rejected in job after job that though I was supposed to provide for my family, God wasn't letting me. It just added to my ideas that God had left me all alone.  I couldn't believe it when people said, God has the perfect job out there for you. God loves you. It just added to my belief that it was up to me, and I was all alone.  It was strange to recognize my broken, hurt, bruised feelings of being a victim, as a fierce anger. All because I believed that I wasn't a good teacher, that I wasn't worth a job, and that for all I thought I stood for - I had been proven a fool.  The only thing harder than letting it all go - was realizing that I was angry. It wasn't even a useful anger, it was just deep and festering, feeding on my soul - lashing out at the people I love the most.  Dealing with anger comes out in tears. There have been many tears, but I'm not angry any more.

3.  The End Doesn't Come, Till the Journey is Begun

When I started on this journey I thought I knew the answer. All I needed was a job.  The right job to prove that I was worthy, and boy did I imagine what that meant. It meant a big salary at a prestigious school, it meant an important job at a University, it meant recognition and honor.  All I had to do, was go and get the job that I deserved.  It wasn't until about three or four months into this whole experience that I realized that what I planned, wasn't working out - nor would it ever.  It was realizing that I was waiting for an EVENT to save me, rather than waiting for what God had for me, and he clearly hadn't finished.  So, I started to change, and the letting go was hard, but there was freedom on the other side.  It came in experiences...many experiences, where I had to work to see what God had in it for me.  The most unexpected things - like a new baby, a new pregnancy - pushed me to start to trust, like I never have before.  I am a planner, I like to do things in an orderly fashion,  a mature, and well thought out fashion, and there was more than one time that I called myself irresponsible.  It took something that life altering to make me take notice, to turn to God for answers I didn't have.

4. A New Start 

I think it all came together not even a week ago, when a conversation I had with several people started to sound familiar, started to make sense.  It can be broken down very easily. 
I had to come to a place where I honestly believe that God loves me so much that I need to put myself aside. To realize, God is the provider for my family, not me. If I believe that God is indeed my provider, then he will provide for us, no matter what it looks like.  That providing for my family is out of my hands. There is freedom in that - so much freedom.  It's what gave me the confidence to walk into not one, but two interviews this week, and be offered both jobs. Not because those interviewers saw me, but they saw Christ in me, the confidence and trust I have in him.  It's a new job, a new baby, a new me. Not perfect, not yet, but learning. I look forward to this adventure with Christ in me. 

ME: By Design

I'm not one for New Years Resolutions, I think it could be because I hate when they end up to be empty on me.  Lost somewhere in January when I finally delve into a bowl of pasta, or eat a third handful of the chocolate covered raisins in a kitchen raid.  Now, I'm not celebrating an unhealthy lifestyle, and believe that every day I need to be taking steps to be healthier in soul, mind and body but I saw something tonight that made me take pause. 

I often torture my husband with questions like, "Do I look fat?" or "Does this outfit make me look stupid?", you know those questions that really don't have a safe or positive answer. In fact, they are only questions spoken out of that hole of insecurity, that place of not feeling like quite "enough." Tonight, due to a small hiccup with Netflix, I was stuck watching ET Canada's New Years "Nip-Tuck" special.  What I saw made me both envious and sad.  Envious because I can relate to the desire to LOOK perfect, and what if I just had the finances? I too, could look like them. THEM. Those thin, perfectly shaped, beautifully sculpted women who were the main patients subjecting themselves to painful surgery in order to be perfecter? That's what made me sad. Watching these beautiful women say, after their surgeries, that now they have "so much more confidence". What?? I wanted to shout. Do you hear what you're saying? I think it was about then I realized something. Even if there came a day where I did look like those women - absolutely beautiful - I would still not feel that way because it is all surface.  

I don't think that I will ever stop caring fully about what I look like, or how I appear, because I don't think that's the answer - changing the way I look at myself however would be time better spent. Over Christmas I've had time to reflect on what's really important. Like the tears that come to my eyes now as I explain to my kids that I'll be going back to work soon - which is what I've been after since the day I stopped, but here I am all emotional about having to go back.  On Christmas Eve we got a call from my Dad's work, telling us there had been an accident. I can tell you, as our collective breath was sucked out of the room my thoughts were only with my family, and how I could help now. Praise God, my Dad is going to be alright, but wow, my focus changed in an instant and I could tell you all of the things that were important, my hair, my weight was the least of them. 

So t0 2014, I'll be looking for the blessings, for the good, loving those around me with words, and knowing that I have been created by the living God, to be Me. I'm not saying it will be perfect, but I have started to think that perfection is overrated. Once something has been declared perfect, it has to stay that way, unadulterated forever, or else it falls so far that status can never be reestablished. So to you, my dear friends and readers, look at your design with purpose, hope and joy.  Remember that God's love and miracles come in the everyday little details. 

Happy 2014.