WP701: Social Welfare Policy, Spring 2 Semester

I have realized why I hate my policy course...and this class in particular (all about policy briefs).

I don't think it's my job to convince other people to share my views. They either agree, disagree, or fall somewhere in the middle...and it is of no consequence to me. I have my views, but I don't think I need to be telling the government or anyone else that they need to believe the same way.

I'm intelligent, but that doesn't mean I'm right, or better, than anyone else. It's no wonder I use a new topic to write about in my papers each week...I keep thinking I just need to find something I'm interested in, when really I just don't give a crap about "convincing an audience".

This also may explain why I hate politics and avoid conversations with people about politics like the plague. It makes me so uncomfortable. I know you're not going to change my mind, so it should be implied that I am not going to change your mind. Thus, I do not want to talk about it with you or anyone else...because it almost always turns into a "but xyz is better than your xyz, and here's why you're a horrible human being for having your beliefs."

Anyone want to go pick daisies and churn butter with me?

Versus

Now that I have quite settled back into my life in the Northeast, I have found myself making several comparisons between the North and the South that I find interesting. It's not so much a pro/con list, just some notable differences.

1. It stays lighter for later in the South..by at least an hour. Conversely, it gets lighter much earlier here in the North. Example: in Atlanta, we would routinely see the sun setting well past 9pm during the summer months, compared to 7 or 8 in the North. However, during the summer it gets light at about 5am in the North.

2. Roads are not properly labeled here in the North. It seems that they just assume you know what road you are on, even if the road name is has changed. So, if you get lost, you can't figure out where you are because you don't know what the cross streets are, in fact, crossing. In Atlanta specifically, however, they over-label, moreso than what your GPS knows...or what the address specifies. I.E. Peachtree Street Northwest, West, or North.

3. Everyone up here has padiddles (one headlight out). I never saw one in Atlanta the 6 years I lived there. People also have the ability to pass on one-lane roads up here, whereas there are no one-lane roads that have sections that allow for passing in Atlanta, or really anywhere in GA that I noticed. 

4. There is no good mexican food in the North. If you have never eaten mexican food outside of the North, I cannot take your recommendation, because even though I believe you think it's good food, you simply do not know any better. Also, no one in the North has queso dip..they just take shredded cheddar and melt it under the broiler. This is not good, at all.

5. Women can go without makeup and show up in public places in their sweatpants in the North without fear of repercussion. I kinda felt like in Atlanta, only lesbians got a by to go without makeup. You can also wear birkenstocks or tevas, really any kind of casual sandal in the North. My feet and face have never been happier.

6. There are so, so so many farms up here. All meat and dairy are fresh and local and it's delicious. Even when I shopped at the Farmer's Market in Decatur, I knew it wasn't super local (100+ miles), whereas here my meat comes from about 15 minutes away. 

7. I thought Decatur, Midtown, and L5P were super LGBT friendly...but they have nothing on the whole of MA. Especially Northampton, which is basically the gay capital. I love that it's so normal here, and couples can hold hands and be affectionate in public without fear.

8. The bar scene is totally different - Atlanta was diverse and had something for everyone and every need. Here, you have a townie dive bar that serves no food, or it's overpriced and minimal menu (Think Park Tavern in Atlanta). We have found one bar that has served as a replacement for Manny's in Atlanta (one of our favorite hangouts -Mannys)...and we're becoming regulars there now because we can find no other options (http://www.packardsbar.com/)

9. Snow. This one is pretty obvious....but the first significant snow we got (9 inches), I was trepidatious about driving because of how bad 1 inch of snow was in Atlanta. It is going to take me some time to reacquaint myself with snow driving, because I've come to expect the roads to be terrible whenever the white stuff comes.

10. Local news. I miss Atlanta networks, because I swear the local news stations up here are a joke. They dress unprofessionally frequently enough to make me change the channel in protest, the lighting is terrible, and at least one station "pre records" it's show from 5am and just re-airs it the rest of the morning. Madness. The bonus here is that it has drastically cut down on how much I watch TV, since I've stopped watching the local news in the morning and evening.

I'm looking forward to a) seeing more things that are different culturally and regionally, and b) a time when I stop noticing these differences. Then I'll really know I'm "home". 2013 has been good to me and my family, and I can honestly say I am happy, and happier for the changes we've experienced these last 6 or 7 months. If you had asked me this time last year if I thought I would have been living back closer to family and had completed my first semester of grad school by now, I would have laughed in your face. 

But, life surprises us in many ways, and when you go along for the ride, it can bring you to wonderful places.

Happy New Year, and here's to 2014 being an equally surprising journey.

Follow the yellow brick road

I'm coming up on the first anniversary of the "big lifechanging event". I find myself semi-aware of the upcoming date...aware enough to know I'm still recovering from the fallout, but ignorant enough of it to recognize that I've come a long way. It doesn't drive every decision anymore, every thought, every emotion. It doesn't infiltrate my sleep or my waking hours.

I don't cry about it anymore. I took measures to learn how to be more assertive (a work in progress!), to remember that I wasn't at fault. I even initially thought my end goal was to forgive the person who caused me all this turmoil...but I realized that it shouldn't be my responsibility to forgive her. I have, however, come to the realization that I feel terribly sorry for her. I think that's enough.

I am a (the?) better person though, for this experience. I turned an awful, terrible, no good situation into a learning opportunity, to prove to myself that I could be strong. And now I'm happy and healthy. I have successes in my personal and professional life. And for once, I know that it is entirely possible something terrible could happen again tomorrow, but I'll get through it anyway and kick ass while doing so.

All the (very) old feelings of revenge have subsided...because what I've done is the best revenge possible.

I survived.

Popping another kind of cherry

So, in the midst of coordinating a move 1100 miles away, I have come to discover a whole list of "first time" experiences for myself.

1. Living alone. I have never, ever, lived alone before. I've had a day or two or even a long weekend to myself before, but never a time where it went longer than that. Where I had no roommate. I went from living with my parents, to college, and then with Josh. When I was planning my move to Atlanta back in 2007, I had initially harbored thoughts about getting my own place, rather than moving in with Josh. I wanted to establish my independence, just to say that I could do it. But at the time it made no financial or economical sense to live separately, so cohabitation it was.

These last 2 weeks that I've been alone since Josh moved out to get a head start on our new life in Massachusetts, well, it's been eye-opening. I found myself able to do things I always relegated to Josh, whether I thought I couldn't do it or just plain ol' didn't want to do it...opening jars, doing the dishes or taking out the garbage...or even the dreaded killing of the roaches. I've done it with a sense of bravery that I didn't think I had. Certainly I've had my moments of weakness where I've shed some tears (i.e. nearly getting locked out of the house when the latch to the sliding glass door fell down while I was outside and thusly locking the door), but for the most part I'm really proud at how I've handled this being-on-my-own thing.

2. Mowing the lawn. I mowed the lawn once before, technically, but it was a short-lived experience because I ran over a fire ant mound and had to stop that project fairly quickly into starting it. So, this time around, I mowed an entire lawn. I was intimidated by this dangerous machine, because I have a propensity for major accidents (loss of limbs, for example), and was afraid of the worst-case-scenario, however unlikely. But I did it, and the lawn doesn't look half-bad either. Go me!

3. Using a power drill. I dismantled couches, beds, and two major appliances today. When several of the screws in the feet of our couch were fairly stripped, I didn't give up and kept at it with both the drill and a screw driver, and I didn't shed a tear. This is a major thing for me, because I am not a drill and hammer kind of lady. I have virtually no aptitude for it, and my main claim to fame in construction/deconstruction was a "insert tab A into tab B" kind of bookshelf from Walmart 6 years ago. It is wobbly and nowhere near even. I usually give up if it does not immediately look simple, or I cry so terribly that I fall asleep hoping the problem goes away. But I didn't give up. Yes, it sounds silly, that I managed to unscrew some screws without tears, but it's really a major accomplishment for me. Sure, I can cook a thanksgiving meal for 10 without breaking a sweat, but you hand me a screwdriver and I see it as a fancy back scratcher. So, credit where credit is due, no?

4. Driving a van. I hate big cars, trucks, etc. I like teeny tiny cars where I am close to the ground. I had major nerves all morning about picking up the Uhaul truck, having to drive it 3 miles back to the house, and then backing it into the driveway. I couldn't eat all day, because I was sure that I would get into a major accident on the way home. But, I got gas, made it home, and backed it into the driveway in one try (with the help of my very good friend). I sometimes wish I saw more confidence in myself about my abilities to do new things, because it would save me a lot of stress and worry in the future. I see how well this excursion has turned out and I am surprised with the outcome...and I feel like I should set expectations for myself a little higher.

5. Grad school. Hell yeah, I got accepted. This is another example of a self-confidence thing...I thought I was good enough for school, but was I good enough over other applicants? I had that lack of faith in myself, and it was a nagging feeling. Getting that phone call from my admissions counselor was one of the best "firsts" I've had. It validated the whole of my experiences and that someone out there sees something in me that is worth investing in, that I'm going to make a good social worker and counselor one day.

Tomorrow begins the true madness of the move...packing the van, cleaning the house, and waiting for my dad to arrive. Friday we hit the wide open road, and by Saturday we'll arrive, hopefully in one piece. Even if  I still need to learn a bit more about building confidences in myself...I do feel like I have really learned a valuable lesson in assertiveness. That is a quality in myself I've always wanted to build on, and I feel like I can take on the world now. Look at this badass go.

Thanks Atlanta, for 6 good(ish) years. I'm sorry we couldn't make it work, but there are some better things coming thisaway for my little family. Here's to the 2nd half of 2013!

Point blank period.

When I was a young gal, I played a lot of sports. I started out with the usual t-ball, then soccer (which I recall regularly trying to get out of because I hated getting kicked in the stomach all the time by the other players), then baseball (on a boys team...there was only one other girl on the team with me). I remember that being short-lived, because I moved over to softball. I enjoyed softball, and I enjoyed the fact that my dad frequently was the coach for my teams each year. It was nice bonding time with him, it taught me the value of team-manship, working hard, and competition at a healthy, recreational level. It also taught me to be loyal.

I recall a time in the third grade, where after a game that we had lost, one of my team members took it pretty hard and had a good cry afterwards. I remember comforting her, and then we held hands and walked back to the dugout together. Someone on the other team cried out "Ew you are so gay!". I didn't know what that word meant, since I was only 8 or 9, and no one had ever explained that to me. So I asked, "what is gay?" to the offender. She proclaimed that it was when two girls loved each other. To that I replied, "what's wrong with that?", and walked away, still holding the hand of my friend.

Discrimination is not inherent, it is learned. I am thankful that I had parents that did not teach me to hate.

demarcation of a year

I find myself drawing an imaginary line or maybe even a bookend to the last year. Not even just 2012, but from today back through February of last year. This time last year I was in the throws of not only planning my wedding but also moving to my current residence. We were escaping the daily harassment of our neighbors and their constant state of assholishness...I had reached a point where I could no longer take the sleepless nights as a result of the loud music, calling the police to no avail, and complaints to the property managers that fell on deaf ears.

So we moved. To a rental home. Even though it was a "downgrade" in quality (older home, things in various states of disrepair), it was a major upgrade in quality of life. For the first time since 2004 I finally was able to sleep through the night without the use of ear plugs and noise machines. It was bliss.

And then three weeks into the bliss...I started losing vision in my left eye over the course of three days. I had severe pains, and I kept dismissing it as a bad sinus infection. By the third day my vision in my left eye was virtually gone - I could only see if I looked straight ahead. Peripheral vision was completely gone. I made an appointment with my primary doctor, and they spent an hour hemming and hawing about what it was that I had (to include a discussion about Bell's Palsy because the left side of my face started to droop), and only when I started to cry did they stop talking about me and start talking to me. They sent me to the ER, where I had a panic attack after being kept in an exam room for 3 hours with no one coming in to check on me. I had a delightful experience with Xanax, and thought "Gosh, this is how normal people must feel all the time". I had an MRI and thought I was going to die being trapped in a machine that is an inch away from your face for over an hour. I was finally discharged at 1 in the morning, and ordered to stay home for the remainder of the week, with the exception of going to a neurologist, ophthalmologist, and going to a clinic that would administer steroid injections every day for 2 hours a piece. The injections made everything taste like metal. My neurologist told me that there was a 20% chance I could develop multiple sclerosis in the next two years, but there was still little research done on those with my condition - optic neuritis. They couldn't tell me how I had contracted the neuritis, so I had no what to know how to prevent it from happening again.

When I get stressed out, my eye still hurts. When it's really hot outside, my eye hurts and I get nauseous. But it's been a year since this all happened, and if that's all I've had to cope with as a change in my quality of my health, I'm counting my blessings. I still have another year to go before I'm officially out of the recovery phase, but given all that I've dealt with aside from this ordeal, I think I'm made of tougher stuff.

It's been a year and I'm still kicking.

Remarkable

Just taking a precious free moment to process my thoughts, and remark on my last week in my new position. It's been a whirlwind week, weird office hours, late nights, early mornings, and breathing through the chaos. But it's been exhilarating. Coming from the world of newborn adoptions, foster care is quite different. You look at the world through a much different lens. In my last job, it was a bit more of a rosier picture. Great, courageous women thinking ahead and making a plan for their child, choosing a family that will be parents and raise the child as their own. They each had their reasons, and had the where-with-all to acknowledge they weren't ready or able to be the kind of parent or family they want for their child.

Foster care...well, it's the dirty underbelly of child welfare. For example, the agency I now work for only accepts Level 2 or higher foster children - meaning, our foster parents are trained and ready to parent these kids in care who require therapeutic services. 85% of "our" kids have been sexually abused and have behavioral issues. These are the kids that smear poop on themselves or their surroundings, because it's a defense mechanism they've developed to make themselves "untouchable", even if for a short time. In the last week, I've had the distinct pleasure to meet some of these kids, including a 3 and 4 year old brother and sister just yesterday. They have their issues, for sure. But yesterday they were all about cracking jokes...and that is so, so remarkable to me.

Case worker: "what are you doing in there?"
Boy: "I'm still going potty, one more minute!"
Case worker: "Are you going number 1 or number 2?"
Boy: "Number three!"