I just received the following e-mail from the institution of higher learning that I am currently attending. (Names/identifiers have been changed to ensure privacy.)
"Hey, y’all, hey!!
1. The __________ Halloween Party has been moved to Friday. Yes, it seems like last minute, but we had to due to a scheduling conflict with the venue. Also, Fridays are awesome, and you can sleep in on Saturday.
-We need your body at FILL IN YOUR FAVORITE BAR NAME HERE from 9-12 (where you take your body after that is your business) this FRIDAY!
-There will be drink specials! They are so special, you will have to wait to get there to figure out what they are.
-As always, you are strongly encouraged (and by that I mean I you need to dust off the old fishnets) to dress up as your favorite queer icon. Please go all out.
-The event is 21 and over. And you don’t really want me to approach you, demand your ID, and find out your real age. So, let’s keep it together, pretty people. PRIZES!!
Yes, there is only one number on this list. You can add whatever you want to, but this is already number one, at the top of the list.
All the best,
Guy Who Sent the E-Mail"
Technically, I am a graduate student. In the way that I haven't graduated with my PhD yet, but still pay higher course fees than post-bachelor work because I obtained a Masters seven years ago...
But definitely different than the typical 24-yr-old grad student. For one thing, at this point in my life my Friday night activities are a little tamer. Fridays mean sweats, a Disney movie, and possibly a soda. If I'm feeling really crazy, it might mean a half-glass of wine.
If I am still awake at midnight, it has been a not-so-good evening for Weeble, Better Half, and me. When my "body" isn't in my own bed at that time of night, I am experiencing a mixture of hopelessness and helplessness that isn't foreign to parents of toddlers.
I think this e-mail serves as a great reminder for list-serv makers to be very familiar with their demographics. But, I'm not sure this school is listening.
After all, this institution is the same one that sends letters to my home (where I pay the mortgage) addressed to "The Parents of..."
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Friday, October 28, 2011
Tuesday, October 18, 2011
True Grit
I need a massage. The muscles in my neck and back have seized, and make it impossible to look over my shoulder. Driving may be a little interesting today. It took me a little while, but I think I've discovered the reason (besides the hours I've logged on a keyboard since school started.) I am gritting my teeth again.
I've spent the last couple of weeks helping people (read: administrators) review data and statistics.
Please no one repeat the quote "There are lies, damned lies, and statistics." Just because you don't like the raw data, doesn't mean that it lies. (Commence gritting while I craft an appropriate response that pushes thinking instead of ending dialogue...) There's the distinct possibility that what you think is happening might not, in actuality, be happening. If you really want to know what's going on, ask the teachers. They know the issues, and can develop solutions that really work for them AND their students.
Or we can spend a lot of time and energy admiring the problem. We're pretty good at that...
It always comes back to collaboration.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
I've spent the last couple of weeks helping people (read: administrators) review data and statistics.
Please no one repeat the quote "There are lies, damned lies, and statistics." Just because you don't like the raw data, doesn't mean that it lies. (Commence gritting while I craft an appropriate response that pushes thinking instead of ending dialogue...) There's the distinct possibility that what you think is happening might not, in actuality, be happening. If you really want to know what's going on, ask the teachers. They know the issues, and can develop solutions that really work for them AND their students.
Or we can spend a lot of time and energy admiring the problem. We're pretty good at that...
It always comes back to collaboration.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
Wednesday, October 12, 2011
Collaboration
My definition of collaboration includes people working together, actively listening to each others ideas, and then working towards a goal that the team believes is worthy.
Unfortunately, my definition is not the most popular one. Some people use the word, but forget to add the phrase they are thinking in their head: "as long as we agree to what I wanted to do anyway."
However, this attitude immediately breaks any collaborative leanings a group may have. And, frankly, makes me twitch.
If I were suddenly turned into a K-12 student again, with the knowledge I have gained, I think I might be labeled oppositionally defiant.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
Unfortunately, my definition is not the most popular one. Some people use the word, but forget to add the phrase they are thinking in their head: "as long as we agree to what I wanted to do anyway."
However, this attitude immediately breaks any collaborative leanings a group may have. And, frankly, makes me twitch.
If I were suddenly turned into a K-12 student again, with the knowledge I have gained, I think I might be labeled oppositionally defiant.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
Sunday, October 2, 2011
Blinking
At some point, I made the mistake of blinking.
Weeble went from a warm bundle that needed me every second to a burst of energy who can stand on her own two feet. (Except when she's really tired...)
She sings and dances. She giggles and claps her hands when something strikes her as funny. She loves to make us laugh, and intentionally tries to be silly. She's equally entranced by The Muppet Show and her t-strap Stride Rites. She devours grilled cheese sandwiches and loves fajitas with guacamole.
I'm afraid to blink again. I already see flashes of the little girl she's becoming right in front of me. I don't want to miss a second.
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Weeble went from a warm bundle that needed me every second to a burst of energy who can stand on her own two feet. (Except when she's really tired...)
She sings and dances. She giggles and claps her hands when something strikes her as funny. She loves to make us laugh, and intentionally tries to be silly. She's equally entranced by The Muppet Show and her t-strap Stride Rites. She devours grilled cheese sandwiches and loves fajitas with guacamole.
I'm afraid to blink again. I already see flashes of the little girl she's becoming right in front of me. I don't want to miss a second.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
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