Thursday, June 04, 2009
Those things that get in your way
A few months ago, I thought the sensible thing would be to start looking for employment right away. I envisioned myself graduated with interviews already lined up. I envisioned myself finding the perfect job -- maybe not the most money, but something.
After years of working hard and getting by -- and I'm not complaining, cause lately I'm more than getting by -- graduating became synonymous with choice for me. It meant I could choose to leave this town, with school not holding me back. It meant I could choose a career, with my handy piece of paper referenced on my resume. Good grades meant more options, too, and I did that. I did my best.
Last weekend, I was completely thrilled to be going on my first job interview. Over the last year or two, I've done some serious soul-searching, among other things, and really tried to dig deep and find that magical thing of all things I might want to do with myself, or at least begin by doing.
I thought about The Daily Cougar. I thought about what classes I liked in school. I thought about in general the things that make me happy. I narrowed it down; it was so gratifying to do that; and of all things, I realized the thing I did that had the most impact on my life, and the thing where I know I had the ability and opportunity to positively effect so many people, was what I was able to do for the kids at Elks Camp.
So, as someone who is always learning, and as someone who enjoys geeking out about things and passing them on to others, and as someone who really cares and has empathy for people, especially children, I decided to go and apply that experience toward a career in teaching. I decided that at the end of the day I would come home feeling good about what I'd done, which wasn't always the case with other things.
Back to the interview. It was great. The school is this wonderful place. A middle school in Austin. It has two schools within it, a regular one with kids from the neighborhood, and a magnet one where they are brought in by bus every day. It used to be an all black school, before integration, and is still mostly occupied by those of minorities and socioeconomically disadvantaged. The kids, given my background and theirs, are exactly the ones I want to help.
Furthermore, the position sounded perfect for me. I met the teacher and director of the magnet school - and they met me on a Saturday. We drove to Austin, stayed the night in a hotel, and then, I met them, at this really cool coffee house, and they told me all about the position.
It was an assistant teacher position for autistic kids, helping them handle their emotions and pick up social skills. Helping them work with "regular" kids in their classes, and helping them to advance in ways other than academic.
Seemed like the right thing to do, and when I was practically offered the job I was ecstatic.
One thing got in the way. A mistake I had made.
The school district has a rule made by the superintendent not to hire anyone with a DWI within five years of the offense. No exceptions.
My application had never even been approved.
I had been applying for jobs, sending letter after letter to principals and assistant principals, and had never received any word about this rule until the job was less than two inches from my grasp.
I'm not going to dwell on it. I am upset; I was more upset two days ago when I got the news.
Now, a change of plans. A shift in things. It was a wrench, nothing more, and we will figure it out.
I'm looking into how to make this charge go away; it may cost me some time and money, but what else have I got?
It just ... I don't know. Put this dark cloud over things for me.
I thought - I was told - that a misdemeanor wasn't a big deal. And a first offense. And that I could if it came up say something like, "I made a mistake in college."
But now I know. It does make a difference. It is what it is. So now, we are just going to move forward and deal with it. That's what we've got to do for now.
In the meantime, I know great things are ahead. I know there's no real sense of urgency other than what may be on the outside, small. Things like wanting to get out of this city, get a bigger apartment, start over, get a new job, set a wedding date.
But I waited a long time to get where I am, and I suppose if I must, I can wait a little longer.
A few months ago, I thought the sensible thing would be to start looking for employment right away. I envisioned myself graduated with interviews already lined up. I envisioned myself finding the perfect job -- maybe not the most money, but something.
After years of working hard and getting by -- and I'm not complaining, cause lately I'm more than getting by -- graduating became synonymous with choice for me. It meant I could choose to leave this town, with school not holding me back. It meant I could choose a career, with my handy piece of paper referenced on my resume. Good grades meant more options, too, and I did that. I did my best.
Last weekend, I was completely thrilled to be going on my first job interview. Over the last year or two, I've done some serious soul-searching, among other things, and really tried to dig deep and find that magical thing of all things I might want to do with myself, or at least begin by doing.
I thought about The Daily Cougar. I thought about what classes I liked in school. I thought about in general the things that make me happy. I narrowed it down; it was so gratifying to do that; and of all things, I realized the thing I did that had the most impact on my life, and the thing where I know I had the ability and opportunity to positively effect so many people, was what I was able to do for the kids at Elks Camp.
So, as someone who is always learning, and as someone who enjoys geeking out about things and passing them on to others, and as someone who really cares and has empathy for people, especially children, I decided to go and apply that experience toward a career in teaching. I decided that at the end of the day I would come home feeling good about what I'd done, which wasn't always the case with other things.
Back to the interview. It was great. The school is this wonderful place. A middle school in Austin. It has two schools within it, a regular one with kids from the neighborhood, and a magnet one where they are brought in by bus every day. It used to be an all black school, before integration, and is still mostly occupied by those of minorities and socioeconomically disadvantaged. The kids, given my background and theirs, are exactly the ones I want to help.
Furthermore, the position sounded perfect for me. I met the teacher and director of the magnet school - and they met me on a Saturday. We drove to Austin, stayed the night in a hotel, and then, I met them, at this really cool coffee house, and they told me all about the position.
It was an assistant teacher position for autistic kids, helping them handle their emotions and pick up social skills. Helping them work with "regular" kids in their classes, and helping them to advance in ways other than academic.
Seemed like the right thing to do, and when I was practically offered the job I was ecstatic.
One thing got in the way. A mistake I had made.
The school district has a rule made by the superintendent not to hire anyone with a DWI within five years of the offense. No exceptions.
My application had never even been approved.
I had been applying for jobs, sending letter after letter to principals and assistant principals, and had never received any word about this rule until the job was less than two inches from my grasp.
I'm not going to dwell on it. I am upset; I was more upset two days ago when I got the news.
Now, a change of plans. A shift in things. It was a wrench, nothing more, and we will figure it out.
I'm looking into how to make this charge go away; it may cost me some time and money, but what else have I got?
It just ... I don't know. Put this dark cloud over things for me.
I thought - I was told - that a misdemeanor wasn't a big deal. And a first offense. And that I could if it came up say something like, "I made a mistake in college."
But now I know. It does make a difference. It is what it is. So now, we are just going to move forward and deal with it. That's what we've got to do for now.
In the meantime, I know great things are ahead. I know there's no real sense of urgency other than what may be on the outside, small. Things like wanting to get out of this city, get a bigger apartment, start over, get a new job, set a wedding date.
But I waited a long time to get where I am, and I suppose if I must, I can wait a little longer.
Labels: Career, Consequences, Interview, Job Search, Obstacles
Monday, January 05, 2009
To Begin at the Beginning
It's 2009. The beginning of a new year, for once for me, it is also the beginning of something else.
It is the beginning of my life in many ways. A rebirth. A time to dream. A time to look toward the future with excitement. A time, the first time, my mind is truly at peace and I am bursting with happiness inside and out.
It has been a long, hard road. Sometimes I get down when I think about all the things I could have been, but that is less and less, when I think about how young I still am and how many things are possible, and that I can be who I am and end up exactly where I want to be.
The rest of my life is coming, and it begins today and yesterday. For the first time, I truly feel I could fill it with whatever I want.
Just over two years ago, I remember sitting on a cold bed in a jail cell and crying, feeling as though my life had ended.
It had in many ways, but it took the last two years to work on healing and to own my mistakes.
I didn't feel I had much to look forward to, but I tried anyway. Still, I didn't care enough about myself; I still did not know how to live life, to own my life, rather than create situations and react to things that happened to me, while many of the things that happened to me were my own doing.
My mind and my heart had been crushed by experience. Existence was something I thought I knew as some kind of tortured artist.
I had not much less than sad songs to play, and solitude much of the time. Not being able to see straight. Not being able to relate to the world like I wanted. Not being able to find my place in it.
Then a year later, my mother got sick. This changed me. I knew I had to be strong, knew I had to get myself right.
It's funny how the biggest changes occur when you are not looking.
I worked hard. I tried to make my life better, but it is such a magical thing when you wake up one day and realize you've done it. That the inherent struggle you always saw in your life isn't necessarily inherent.
I fought myself out of poverty.
I fought myself out of a semi-long, semi-serious, unfulfilled relationship.
I fought my mind. I fought years and years of guilt and abuse, self-hatred, and came to terms as best as I could with the terms of my life, good and bad, the absence of my father, years and years of pain compounded on pain compounded on pain, and buried with tears and alcohol, fear and loathing.
Here we are. I've been at my job for a year. I got a 3.89 last semester, busted my ass and still managed to fall in love. I met the love of my life while I wasn't looking. He was right under my nose for months and when I found him all I had to do was allow myself to be happy, to give and receive love, something I'd always thought I wanted, but am finally capable of doing.
I got an internship this Spring doing PR for DiverseWorks. I am graduating in May.
I got to spend New Year's in Southern California and go to Disneyland and see the Rose Bowl Parade, and see Chinatown in San Francisco and the Pacific. I saw the fog in the air and the sun on the water. I saw the lights of L.A. from the airplane's window seat at night. I saw the stars on Hollywood Blvd. and walked among the tourists. I saw Santa Monica and Anaheim and Solvang, this little Dutch town lit up for Christmas.
I saw it all with a big warm hand in mine and a goofy grin on my face, and tried to take it all in whenever I could.
It's a new year, but it's a new life.
I wanted to say some other things. I wanted to say that for anyone who is still searching, for one's self or a love or a dream or for the tide to turn or for the season to change, or for an opportunity -- something someone once told me that I held on to half-heartedly while working as hard as I could mentally and emotionally to get there --
I can't find the right words. All I guess I really mean is something cliche about keeping one's head up, or like that Cursive line, "The Worst is Over," or how Ben Folds said for those who thought the past wasn't dead to stop and smell the smoke.
It can be smoke if you let it. Things do turn around. It's not immediate, but it does happen.
My mother is still ill and has to go through three months of chemo again beginning this month. My grandfather is not out of the woods yet. There are some things in life you can't control.
Obama is going to take his role in the White House soon and the whole world, those who voted and those who didn't, will be watching to see where he takes us. I am counting the days.
I could say a lot more. Happy New Year everyone.
Happy. New. Year.
It's 2009. The beginning of a new year, for once for me, it is also the beginning of something else.
It is the beginning of my life in many ways. A rebirth. A time to dream. A time to look toward the future with excitement. A time, the first time, my mind is truly at peace and I am bursting with happiness inside and out.
It has been a long, hard road. Sometimes I get down when I think about all the things I could have been, but that is less and less, when I think about how young I still am and how many things are possible, and that I can be who I am and end up exactly where I want to be.
The rest of my life is coming, and it begins today and yesterday. For the first time, I truly feel I could fill it with whatever I want.
Just over two years ago, I remember sitting on a cold bed in a jail cell and crying, feeling as though my life had ended.
It had in many ways, but it took the last two years to work on healing and to own my mistakes.
I didn't feel I had much to look forward to, but I tried anyway. Still, I didn't care enough about myself; I still did not know how to live life, to own my life, rather than create situations and react to things that happened to me, while many of the things that happened to me were my own doing.
My mind and my heart had been crushed by experience. Existence was something I thought I knew as some kind of tortured artist.
I had not much less than sad songs to play, and solitude much of the time. Not being able to see straight. Not being able to relate to the world like I wanted. Not being able to find my place in it.
Then a year later, my mother got sick. This changed me. I knew I had to be strong, knew I had to get myself right.
It's funny how the biggest changes occur when you are not looking.
I worked hard. I tried to make my life better, but it is such a magical thing when you wake up one day and realize you've done it. That the inherent struggle you always saw in your life isn't necessarily inherent.
I fought myself out of poverty.
I fought myself out of a semi-long, semi-serious, unfulfilled relationship.
I fought my mind. I fought years and years of guilt and abuse, self-hatred, and came to terms as best as I could with the terms of my life, good and bad, the absence of my father, years and years of pain compounded on pain compounded on pain, and buried with tears and alcohol, fear and loathing.
Here we are. I've been at my job for a year. I got a 3.89 last semester, busted my ass and still managed to fall in love. I met the love of my life while I wasn't looking. He was right under my nose for months and when I found him all I had to do was allow myself to be happy, to give and receive love, something I'd always thought I wanted, but am finally capable of doing.
I got an internship this Spring doing PR for DiverseWorks. I am graduating in May.
I got to spend New Year's in Southern California and go to Disneyland and see the Rose Bowl Parade, and see Chinatown in San Francisco and the Pacific. I saw the fog in the air and the sun on the water. I saw the lights of L.A. from the airplane's window seat at night. I saw the stars on Hollywood Blvd. and walked among the tourists. I saw Santa Monica and Anaheim and Solvang, this little Dutch town lit up for Christmas.
I saw it all with a big warm hand in mine and a goofy grin on my face, and tried to take it all in whenever I could.
It's a new year, but it's a new life.
I wanted to say some other things. I wanted to say that for anyone who is still searching, for one's self or a love or a dream or for the tide to turn or for the season to change, or for an opportunity -- something someone once told me that I held on to half-heartedly while working as hard as I could mentally and emotionally to get there --
I can't find the right words. All I guess I really mean is something cliche about keeping one's head up, or like that Cursive line, "The Worst is Over," or how Ben Folds said for those who thought the past wasn't dead to stop and smell the smoke.
It can be smoke if you let it. Things do turn around. It's not immediate, but it does happen.
My mother is still ill and has to go through three months of chemo again beginning this month. My grandfather is not out of the woods yet. There are some things in life you can't control.
Obama is going to take his role in the White House soon and the whole world, those who voted and those who didn't, will be watching to see where he takes us. I am counting the days.
I could say a lot more. Happy New Year everyone.
Happy. New. Year.
Labels: Ben Folds, Cancer, Cursive, Dreams, Music, New Year's, Obama, Obstacles
Thursday, February 08, 2007
You know what?
Once, several years ago when my life seemed to be spiraling further down than it had ever been, I coined the term, "in the shit." And laughed at god and my circumstances because I felt so whole and strong in spite of it.
I've told so many friends that ever since. "Dude, you're in the shit. But that's all it is, shit! You've gotta step up and say, what's next?! Bring it! You don't think I can fucking take it?!" And be stronger than you've ever known, and let it pass, and work your way through it.
It's funny, though, that I learned that lesson something like three years ago, and never put two and two together, the other being that events do not define you, but you define them. That your personal philosophy affects your everyday decisions and how you react to their consequences.
It took this happening, these things I am dealing with now, but I feel like it was quite necessary.
Because now I'm learning not only the aforementioned, but that it applies to everything, things inside of your control and out.
I once took a giant leap, more than once actually, in some attempt to change my life, to tip the scales toward the better. And even though it wasn't easy, I braved those challenges and stuck it out because I had faith that better times would come.
A few months ago, I was brought once again to another cliff where I could either jump or fly or stay there, scared.
And I looked back, and saw everything I had done that was so good, and almost discounted what I'd learned because it brought me to such a vulnerable, unthinkable place ... the place where you still make mistakes. The place where you realize you are a human being just learning how to live your life like the rest of all the human beings. You are not a martyr. You are not a victim. You are a person. And when I say you, I may just be talking about me.
I am not a consequence. I'm not anything but me. But damnit if lately I haven't realized that and liked it.
And learned to like myself, even the part of me that makes mistakes, even the Holly Golightly parts, and Rob Gordon parts, and Bridget Jones parts and Ben Gibbard parts.
There's definitely a difference between recognizing them and wallowing in them though, in indulging them for what they are, and letting them control the big picture.
That is something I will no longer do.
It's hard work, changing thought patterns, dealing with personal issues like an adult when you sometimes feel like a frightened child, but goddamnit if it isn't worth it.
Because of all things, personal happiness is worth it. Getting rid of self-loathing or perfectionist thinking, breaking yourself down till you are no bigger than a grain of rice. Because that never did anyone any good.
Once, several years ago when my life seemed to be spiraling further down than it had ever been, I coined the term, "in the shit." And laughed at god and my circumstances because I felt so whole and strong in spite of it.
I've told so many friends that ever since. "Dude, you're in the shit. But that's all it is, shit! You've gotta step up and say, what's next?! Bring it! You don't think I can fucking take it?!" And be stronger than you've ever known, and let it pass, and work your way through it.
It's funny, though, that I learned that lesson something like three years ago, and never put two and two together, the other being that events do not define you, but you define them. That your personal philosophy affects your everyday decisions and how you react to their consequences.
It took this happening, these things I am dealing with now, but I feel like it was quite necessary.
Because now I'm learning not only the aforementioned, but that it applies to everything, things inside of your control and out.
I once took a giant leap, more than once actually, in some attempt to change my life, to tip the scales toward the better. And even though it wasn't easy, I braved those challenges and stuck it out because I had faith that better times would come.
A few months ago, I was brought once again to another cliff where I could either jump or fly or stay there, scared.
And I looked back, and saw everything I had done that was so good, and almost discounted what I'd learned because it brought me to such a vulnerable, unthinkable place ... the place where you still make mistakes. The place where you realize you are a human being just learning how to live your life like the rest of all the human beings. You are not a martyr. You are not a victim. You are a person. And when I say you, I may just be talking about me.
I am not a consequence. I'm not anything but me. But damnit if lately I haven't realized that and liked it.
And learned to like myself, even the part of me that makes mistakes, even the Holly Golightly parts, and Rob Gordon parts, and Bridget Jones parts and Ben Gibbard parts.
There's definitely a difference between recognizing them and wallowing in them though, in indulging them for what they are, and letting them control the big picture.
That is something I will no longer do.
It's hard work, changing thought patterns, dealing with personal issues like an adult when you sometimes feel like a frightened child, but goddamnit if it isn't worth it.
Because of all things, personal happiness is worth it. Getting rid of self-loathing or perfectionist thinking, breaking yourself down till you are no bigger than a grain of rice. Because that never did anyone any good.
Labels: Movies, Obstacles, Perspective
