For all my ideals, I might not be considered "Liberal" on fiscal issues. Which seems about right to me, since I think I'm a centrist, staring in horrified amazement at the wackos on both sides of the spectrum.
I think it's a step in the right direction to require drug-testing for welfare recipients. And although we already have social workers who look out for the kids, I'm fairly certain that there are parents out there who don't put their checks to good use...you know, food and school supplies and clothing and such. I'm reminded of the film Precious, in which the mother, played to disturbing effect by Mo'Nique, tells Precious to "get down to the welfare" instead of continuing her education. Why shouldn't the government make sure that it's money is being used for good instead of "subsidizing people's addictions." The problem is...basically every state is in a budget crisis (maybe except for the Dakotas?) and drug-testing could cost millions (according to a labor union). Not to mention the pesky 4th Amendment, which prohibits search and seizure without probable cause. Applying for welfare is, as of yet, not probable cause for a drug test. Read more about the issue in this very informative blog here. So I say "right direction," knowing that there are people out there who will do anything for a fix and that the government might not be able to do anything about it.
Here's the issue that hits home for me though: banks have been lacking "confidence" lately, not loaning and guarding their capital like medieval dragons hoarding treasure. The smallest (and in my opinion, most nefarious) result of the nervous bankers is new fees...and old fees. I've been hit lately with a low minimum balance fee. And I was kicked out of the points-earning program. For not earning enough money. And is that really my fault? Many who figure out what I studied and what I want to do with my life would say "yes." To study the arts and be an idealist is to deserve poverty. And the fees that come with it.
As I said before, though, I'm a centrist, so I don't think the government should (or, let's be honest, could) step in and stop the fees. Banks want to make money...and they found a way to do it that relies on widespread unemployment and under-employment. You gotta keep an eye on those trends. Yet from the individual perspective, looking at a depressing bank statement, these fees and restrictions seem to say "you are not worthy of holding a bank account." As a friend of mine said, it's like the banks just want us to bury our cash in a jar.
And maybe that would be best. I've also started a new part-time job lately, and until Direct Deposit goes into effect (perhaps 2 weeks), I'm supposed to use this strange little debit card. I have yet to figure out how to use this card without a fee. There's an ATM fee (three, really, counting international), balance-check fee, heck there's a monthly service charge! Why can't they just mail me or give me a check? I can cash that for free (so far) at my fee-loving bank. My cynicism is whipped into a frenzy solely by the fact that I did not choose to use this card. I did not elect for this third-party company to profit off my measly paycheck. Why are they doing this? Because there are millions of us vulnerable under-employed who need the "convenience" of yet another debit card to use instead of cash.
While we're lamenting the sore lack of money in our accounts, private corporations are seeing nothing but dollar signs. And that thought ruins my afternoon.
25 July 2011
18 July 2011
selling oneself, again
While I feel an unfamiliar sense of relief for actually having an interview today, I am a little ambivalent. Because I know that a job won't solve all my problems. But it would solve quite a few, if I am hired. Aside from the need for consistent and meaningful employment, I felt it was a pleasant conversation. People put a lot of stock in stuffy professionalism, but in my humble and socially awkward opinion, a conversation is preferable to an interrogation.
I did have to answer the strength and weakness question, but I did what I usually do...I was honest. I wasn't out to "sell" myself in the sense of trumping myself up and making me look better than reality. Some might say I shot myself in the foot with that. We'll see.
The best part about this morning was that the two ladies with whom I was conversing really seemed to understand me. No blank stares a la store manager from yesterday. One even told me I should be a writer because of how I answered the application questions. I better be good at it by now...I've been writing a lot of cover letters and such lately. Maybe I should try to make money blogging! She said she understood my "heart," which is good. The job is in a non-profit, working with people. That's all I'll say so as not to jinx anything.
Honesty and a willingness to help people. Is that not rare these days? Or am I falling into the "sell myself" trap and latching on to a trait that I think could be marketable? I have no idea, not yet...but I do know that helping people whether in the arts, education or another type of service feels a whole lot better than soliciting store credit card applications. Asking people to add a credit card to their wallet seems like part of the problem, not the solution. Yes, you save a certain percentage that day--and every month onward, if you really want to buy that often--but many people are concerned about their credit scores, identity theft and the temptation to spend more than you have earned just yet.
I'd rather help than hinder. Not all customers are jerks who didn't pay attention in math class. The one extreme example I have is a lady who declined to apply for credit, then got a little annoyed when I continued to converse with her about non-credit things. It takes a lot of effort for me to talk to people in a comfortable manner...part of me still thinks I'd better keep my mouth shut. But I thought I might make her day by treating her like a person. Problem was, she had problems weighing on her mind, and blurted out "I'm homeless if you must know, and my husband is in jail for murder." I told her she didn't have to tell me that as I handed over her change. I'm not sorry for speaking to her (it's part of my job) but it was not my intention to make her feel bad about her situation. She's the sort of person whom I might help in the new job. Maybe in that context I'd win her over. But some people do have chips on their shoulder, and I blame society and all its pressures for that.
Yesterday my dad told me I wasn't really part of the workforce. Because of my liberal arts degree. He said I "took it the wrong way" but how else should I take it when my father calls my chosen pursuit a "problem"? He assures me I'll get a museum job when the economy gets better. So for the moment I need to starve? I do hope that teaching this fall doesn't disqualify me from the non-profit job...I told them this morning--and I think they feel me on this--that I want to keep at least a toe in the arts. A whole foot, really. I refuse to sell my soul.
I did have to answer the strength and weakness question, but I did what I usually do...I was honest. I wasn't out to "sell" myself in the sense of trumping myself up and making me look better than reality. Some might say I shot myself in the foot with that. We'll see.
The best part about this morning was that the two ladies with whom I was conversing really seemed to understand me. No blank stares a la store manager from yesterday. One even told me I should be a writer because of how I answered the application questions. I better be good at it by now...I've been writing a lot of cover letters and such lately. Maybe I should try to make money blogging! She said she understood my "heart," which is good. The job is in a non-profit, working with people. That's all I'll say so as not to jinx anything.
Honesty and a willingness to help people. Is that not rare these days? Or am I falling into the "sell myself" trap and latching on to a trait that I think could be marketable? I have no idea, not yet...but I do know that helping people whether in the arts, education or another type of service feels a whole lot better than soliciting store credit card applications. Asking people to add a credit card to their wallet seems like part of the problem, not the solution. Yes, you save a certain percentage that day--and every month onward, if you really want to buy that often--but many people are concerned about their credit scores, identity theft and the temptation to spend more than you have earned just yet.
I'd rather help than hinder. Not all customers are jerks who didn't pay attention in math class. The one extreme example I have is a lady who declined to apply for credit, then got a little annoyed when I continued to converse with her about non-credit things. It takes a lot of effort for me to talk to people in a comfortable manner...part of me still thinks I'd better keep my mouth shut. But I thought I might make her day by treating her like a person. Problem was, she had problems weighing on her mind, and blurted out "I'm homeless if you must know, and my husband is in jail for murder." I told her she didn't have to tell me that as I handed over her change. I'm not sorry for speaking to her (it's part of my job) but it was not my intention to make her feel bad about her situation. She's the sort of person whom I might help in the new job. Maybe in that context I'd win her over. But some people do have chips on their shoulder, and I blame society and all its pressures for that.
Yesterday my dad told me I wasn't really part of the workforce. Because of my liberal arts degree. He said I "took it the wrong way" but how else should I take it when my father calls my chosen pursuit a "problem"? He assures me I'll get a museum job when the economy gets better. So for the moment I need to starve? I do hope that teaching this fall doesn't disqualify me from the non-profit job...I told them this morning--and I think they feel me on this--that I want to keep at least a toe in the arts. A whole foot, really. I refuse to sell my soul.
13 July 2011
I'm not a grown-up because I don't have a 401k
Originally I had planned a rant about HGTV, but after talking about it a little, the rant energy kinda fizzled. It is somewhat relevant to my new train of thought, though. In the sense that I am also bitter that I am not currently in the market for a vacation home in Costa Rica.
I've been hiding from a lot of social situations lately, all to avoid talking about my life. I fear that people I know will make something of the fact that I haven't achieved what many other women my age have already got: marriage, house, children, SUV...retirement plans. It's one thing for my then-8 year old niece to proclaim that I am not a grown-up because I am not married. It's another for one of my peers to think that. And, worst of all, say it.
The problem is, I can't control what people think. I'm again reminded of a book character. I know, it's becoming a theme that will probably not yield any good insight, but this is what I do to escape the despair of underemployment. I read a lot. In the WoT books, especially early on, Perrin always pondered how people saw him as slow-witted. He was deliberate, choosing words carefully, not speaking until he thought it through. Perrin isn't sophisticated, but he turns out to be a hero.
Sometimes I feel like Perrin, not a hero, but judged unfairly because I act differently. A lady once "caught" me drawing on a chalkboard at Sunday School and whispered to my mother "she's always drawing." The horror. Now, I could be misinterpreting, but...should I have been doing something else? Then there were the teachers concerned about my reticence. Did they really want me to talk in class? Say anything without thinking about it?
Maybe half the time, I am deliberately silent, simply because I prefer to think, mull things over and observe instead of blurting things out. The other half, well, I guess I really have been slow-witted...it's like, the conversation and my inner dialogue have become misaligned. It can happen at the most inopportune moments, such as speaking another language or trying to discuss something in architecture studio. Where I lose control is that split second when I decide whether to pause and ask for clarification, or simply shut down.
My biggest disappointment about adulthood is that I still get embarrassed. It's just no longer about jeans. I can't tell whether fear of embarrassment leads to a "misalignment" or if it's the other way around. Being older, I feel I should have some measure of control, like I should be able to prove that I am not unintelligent or incapable or any negative term someone might apply. But why would I bother trying to prove it? I can't sway your opinion if you're using a completely different set of criteria. I say adulthood is a state of mind, you say it's a healthy bottom line. Your idea of intelligence is always having something to say, well...
On My So-Called Life, Angela mused about having a button she could push to make her stop talking. Well, I sort of have one of those, and it's overused. I guess that makes me appear slow-witted. I myself feel worse when I don't push the button. But I perceive the judgment of others when I do. Quiet gives me time to reboot and catch up, if I can.
Isn't it more adult to share a well-thought idea than to spew whatever pops into my head? Or is quantity really better than quality?
Once again, I'm confronted with the realization that grown-ups aren't who I thought they were. And this isn't counting the wackos and criminals out there. I'm talking about average Americans who are just trying to make a living. We're too often distracted by whomever talks the loudest or has the most provocative factoid. Take education, or unemployment...do statistics really matter? This percentage of children might have passed some state test, but did they really learn? That many thousands of people might have been hired this month, but are they getting good hours and earning good money? How often do we blurt things out just to have something to say? I wouldn't mind if CNN went silent for an hour or two just to let things happen and think about them. That makes me sound weird, doesn't it?
I've been hiding from a lot of social situations lately, all to avoid talking about my life. I fear that people I know will make something of the fact that I haven't achieved what many other women my age have already got: marriage, house, children, SUV...retirement plans. It's one thing for my then-8 year old niece to proclaim that I am not a grown-up because I am not married. It's another for one of my peers to think that. And, worst of all, say it.
The problem is, I can't control what people think. I'm again reminded of a book character. I know, it's becoming a theme that will probably not yield any good insight, but this is what I do to escape the despair of underemployment. I read a lot. In the WoT books, especially early on, Perrin always pondered how people saw him as slow-witted. He was deliberate, choosing words carefully, not speaking until he thought it through. Perrin isn't sophisticated, but he turns out to be a hero.
Sometimes I feel like Perrin, not a hero, but judged unfairly because I act differently. A lady once "caught" me drawing on a chalkboard at Sunday School and whispered to my mother "she's always drawing." The horror. Now, I could be misinterpreting, but...should I have been doing something else? Then there were the teachers concerned about my reticence. Did they really want me to talk in class? Say anything without thinking about it?
Maybe half the time, I am deliberately silent, simply because I prefer to think, mull things over and observe instead of blurting things out. The other half, well, I guess I really have been slow-witted...it's like, the conversation and my inner dialogue have become misaligned. It can happen at the most inopportune moments, such as speaking another language or trying to discuss something in architecture studio. Where I lose control is that split second when I decide whether to pause and ask for clarification, or simply shut down.
My biggest disappointment about adulthood is that I still get embarrassed. It's just no longer about jeans. I can't tell whether fear of embarrassment leads to a "misalignment" or if it's the other way around. Being older, I feel I should have some measure of control, like I should be able to prove that I am not unintelligent or incapable or any negative term someone might apply. But why would I bother trying to prove it? I can't sway your opinion if you're using a completely different set of criteria. I say adulthood is a state of mind, you say it's a healthy bottom line. Your idea of intelligence is always having something to say, well...
On My So-Called Life, Angela mused about having a button she could push to make her stop talking. Well, I sort of have one of those, and it's overused. I guess that makes me appear slow-witted. I myself feel worse when I don't push the button. But I perceive the judgment of others when I do. Quiet gives me time to reboot and catch up, if I can.
Isn't it more adult to share a well-thought idea than to spew whatever pops into my head? Or is quantity really better than quality?
Once again, I'm confronted with the realization that grown-ups aren't who I thought they were. And this isn't counting the wackos and criminals out there. I'm talking about average Americans who are just trying to make a living. We're too often distracted by whomever talks the loudest or has the most provocative factoid. Take education, or unemployment...do statistics really matter? This percentage of children might have passed some state test, but did they really learn? That many thousands of people might have been hired this month, but are they getting good hours and earning good money? How often do we blurt things out just to have something to say? I wouldn't mind if CNN went silent for an hour or two just to let things happen and think about them. That makes me sound weird, doesn't it?
29 June 2011
fiction/non-fiction
I've been thinking about The Wheel of Time series lately...not only because I read it to escape other, less constructive thought patterns, but also because it strikes such real, human notes. At least for me. It's a fantasy series, with wizards and princes and queens and monsters, yet it is so vast (13 books with the final book on the way). The characters are so deeply developed, that I cannot help but compare myself to them. And, as you might expect, I find myself terribly lacking. I'm not out saving the world with my inherent magical powers, you know.
You'd think that after all these years of writing essays about paintings and sculptures and monuments, I would have some skill in (at the very least) making others see what I see in a given work of art. Technically I should also be able to convince you to agree with me that that is what said work is all about. These days, though, I don't feel very skilled. So I imagine that this is once again a collection of nonsensical typing.
I've been really annoyed with the main characters lately. Not because of the plot, or where it has taken them (it's all fantastic), but because they're young, powerful and innately good at what they do. Granted, it's easy to write a character with all the right specifications. This one learns how to be a leader in mere months, finding just the right mentor and just the right situations. That one is gifted with extra knowledge and just happens to influence thousands of people in a positive way. And supposedly they're all around 20 or 21 years old. Bastards.
Now, not every single character gets it right. There are plenty of fools, idiots that set back grand plans to defeat evil once and for all. And there are the nameless, the extras, that fill in this world that popped out of Robert Jordan's head. The extras are of course a mixture of good, bad and ugly. The main characters see them as subjects, people to be helped and fought for. They aren't doing their own fighting. Sometimes they have names, sometimes they do not. Some of them join the cause, elevated to major status because of (once again) some talent they were born with.
This whole world revolves around a Pattern, fate if you will...the classic struggle of heroes: to fulfill their destiny or to achieve what they really want. I myself don't see much fate at work in the real world. But wouldn't it be nice to believe that I am who I am and where I am for some great purpose? Automatically I place myself as an equal to the main characters and all their power. Isn't that arrogant of me, now? Naturally, they are the most developed characters, and I identify with certain traits, but...In reality, I don't feel as powerful. I don't feel I have any inborn talents, no skills honed while struggling to survive. And I definitely don't feel I am rising to any great station in life. I sometimes wonder if I missed something at the two universities I attended...was I supposed to obtain some sort of "power" there? Did I miss what fate intended?
I guess the question that this all boils down to--with the potential answer that taunts me--is this: If the real world were an epic novel, would I be one of the nameless throng or a main character?
You'd think that after all these years of writing essays about paintings and sculptures and monuments, I would have some skill in (at the very least) making others see what I see in a given work of art. Technically I should also be able to convince you to agree with me that that is what said work is all about. These days, though, I don't feel very skilled. So I imagine that this is once again a collection of nonsensical typing.
I've been really annoyed with the main characters lately. Not because of the plot, or where it has taken them (it's all fantastic), but because they're young, powerful and innately good at what they do. Granted, it's easy to write a character with all the right specifications. This one learns how to be a leader in mere months, finding just the right mentor and just the right situations. That one is gifted with extra knowledge and just happens to influence thousands of people in a positive way. And supposedly they're all around 20 or 21 years old. Bastards.
Now, not every single character gets it right. There are plenty of fools, idiots that set back grand plans to defeat evil once and for all. And there are the nameless, the extras, that fill in this world that popped out of Robert Jordan's head. The extras are of course a mixture of good, bad and ugly. The main characters see them as subjects, people to be helped and fought for. They aren't doing their own fighting. Sometimes they have names, sometimes they do not. Some of them join the cause, elevated to major status because of (once again) some talent they were born with.
This whole world revolves around a Pattern, fate if you will...the classic struggle of heroes: to fulfill their destiny or to achieve what they really want. I myself don't see much fate at work in the real world. But wouldn't it be nice to believe that I am who I am and where I am for some great purpose? Automatically I place myself as an equal to the main characters and all their power. Isn't that arrogant of me, now? Naturally, they are the most developed characters, and I identify with certain traits, but...In reality, I don't feel as powerful. I don't feel I have any inborn talents, no skills honed while struggling to survive. And I definitely don't feel I am rising to any great station in life. I sometimes wonder if I missed something at the two universities I attended...was I supposed to obtain some sort of "power" there? Did I miss what fate intended?
I guess the question that this all boils down to--with the potential answer that taunts me--is this: If the real world were an epic novel, would I be one of the nameless throng or a main character?
25 May 2011
potential
I could probably come up with an exhaustive list of all the reasons our civilization is screwed. The list would involve several issues like our general disregard for the poor or our inability to be cooperative and constructive in politics. And our lack of critical thinking skills, which I know I have already typed a little about. Another thing is potential, and how we are squandering that potential.
Of course, potential is typically something judged on an individual basis. I was always told I had a lot of potential in school. Meaning I tested well and knew how to get straight A's. Employers might see potential in a worker based on quality of work and attendance, not to mention attitude. But what about potential on a more general, human level? Think in terms of Jefferson's "pursuit of happiness" line. From birth, I presume, each American individual has the potential to be somebody and achieve that "American Dream." Used to be that this was accomplished through college, but we all know my stance on that. Who judges this more universal potential? Any politician who wants your vote will assure you that Americans are the best. Implying that you are the best. And if you aren't in a good place right now, like many of us, that also implies the potential to get a slice of the pie, and the politician's pledge to help you.
But from the point of view of a lowly substitute teacher and shop girl, that's all bullshit. How can American potential be so great if so many children are illiterate and not getting the attention they need from teachers and parents? How can it be so great if so many adults, for that matter, are practically illiterate and incapable of really thinking?
Here's an example from the store: the average American consumer doesn't consider mathematics when shopping...they just want to get that "deal" which of course could not possibly involve arithmetic. What happens when the old rule "The customer is always right?" meets math? Math wins. At least when I'm at the register. Just so you know, a percentage discount on a total is equal to the sum of the same percentage discounts on the individual items. Someone actually tried to argue against this. Math is pretty much absolute unless you're getting into more abstract theory. It's non-negotiable. Why would somebody argue? Simple, we all want a discount because we believe we deserve it. I call this the "cheap factor," of which most Americans have fallen victim.
I wonder how many aggravating situations are rooted in our inability and/or unwillingness to remember lessons from elementary school. No, the store is not screwing you over, but you are screwed regardless...because you failed to think.
Of course, potential is typically something judged on an individual basis. I was always told I had a lot of potential in school. Meaning I tested well and knew how to get straight A's. Employers might see potential in a worker based on quality of work and attendance, not to mention attitude. But what about potential on a more general, human level? Think in terms of Jefferson's "pursuit of happiness" line. From birth, I presume, each American individual has the potential to be somebody and achieve that "American Dream." Used to be that this was accomplished through college, but we all know my stance on that. Who judges this more universal potential? Any politician who wants your vote will assure you that Americans are the best. Implying that you are the best. And if you aren't in a good place right now, like many of us, that also implies the potential to get a slice of the pie, and the politician's pledge to help you.
But from the point of view of a lowly substitute teacher and shop girl, that's all bullshit. How can American potential be so great if so many children are illiterate and not getting the attention they need from teachers and parents? How can it be so great if so many adults, for that matter, are practically illiterate and incapable of really thinking?
Here's an example from the store: the average American consumer doesn't consider mathematics when shopping...they just want to get that "deal" which of course could not possibly involve arithmetic. What happens when the old rule "The customer is always right?" meets math? Math wins. At least when I'm at the register. Just so you know, a percentage discount on a total is equal to the sum of the same percentage discounts on the individual items. Someone actually tried to argue against this. Math is pretty much absolute unless you're getting into more abstract theory. It's non-negotiable. Why would somebody argue? Simple, we all want a discount because we believe we deserve it. I call this the "cheap factor," of which most Americans have fallen victim.
I wonder how many aggravating situations are rooted in our inability and/or unwillingness to remember lessons from elementary school. No, the store is not screwing you over, but you are screwed regardless...because you failed to think.
17 May 2011
this is what I get for not writing during gorgeous weather
If this entry were from last week, it would be incredibly upbeat and optimistic. Not so, today. It's a sad, rainy Tuesday, and there are a couple indications that I won't get exactly what I want. I want employment, meaningful employment, and I have no definitive answers. Well, except the potential teaching job. But with my track record, even that could go haywire.
If all goes to plan, I'll be teaching the Baroque to Contemporary art history survey at OUZ. Which sounds awesome. And scary. Especially if I wind up in the auditorium. What if I bore the students to death? What if they can't comprehend me? It wouldn't be the first time...it often seems that I'm speaking gibberish to people. So that's one thing. In September. But what about in between?
I just can't revel in the good things, like completing the horrid thesis or being done with the Heifer event. I find not the silver lining but the dark spots. Like...what if my grades aren't updated in time to reflect my graduation on my transcript? I bet everyone at the graduation party was wondering who that loser Deborah is on the list and why she isn't there. I do wish I could have been there. I don't feel like a Master now. No more than before. And really...none of the good things in the past month keep me out of debt. My life is all about a paycheck now. So much for idealism.
On the bright side--well, less dark side--I got to watch the pilot of Lost on my computer while trying to email a potential employer and submitting yet another resume. Fingers crossed for at least some form of acknowledgement. It'll need to get a whole lot more gloomy for me to think that I shouldn't keep looking for that arts job that's out there for me, somewhere...
If all goes to plan, I'll be teaching the Baroque to Contemporary art history survey at OUZ. Which sounds awesome. And scary. Especially if I wind up in the auditorium. What if I bore the students to death? What if they can't comprehend me? It wouldn't be the first time...it often seems that I'm speaking gibberish to people. So that's one thing. In September. But what about in between?
I just can't revel in the good things, like completing the horrid thesis or being done with the Heifer event. I find not the silver lining but the dark spots. Like...what if my grades aren't updated in time to reflect my graduation on my transcript? I bet everyone at the graduation party was wondering who that loser Deborah is on the list and why she isn't there. I do wish I could have been there. I don't feel like a Master now. No more than before. And really...none of the good things in the past month keep me out of debt. My life is all about a paycheck now. So much for idealism.
On the bright side--well, less dark side--I got to watch the pilot of Lost on my computer while trying to email a potential employer and submitting yet another resume. Fingers crossed for at least some form of acknowledgement. It'll need to get a whole lot more gloomy for me to think that I shouldn't keep looking for that arts job that's out there for me, somewhere...
04 April 2011
church lady
I haven't written much about church or religion. It's never really seemed to matter much to me except on a purely aesthetic level. Art history offers such an understanding of church culture and history that going on Sunday, especially to an austere Presbyterian church, seemed an afterthought. To some I am a heathen, to others I am the status quo, an academic non-observer. But now it's out...right on my Facebook...the inexplicable association with organized religion.
Back before I somehow chose art history as a focus, the church was yet another public forum in which to embarrass myself, much like high school. Christmas pageants and talent shows galore. Nowadays, I've been avoiding church in order to avoid answering the "What are you doing these days?" or "Found a job yet?" questions.
But I'm also planning a fundraiser for Heifer International, which requires reaching out to congregation members and being a general busy-body. I think I can make the event a lot of fun, something different than an empty envelope in the bulletin.
The one snag is how much of my own money to spend. Because there isn't much of it. Well, there are other, potential snags...I'm wondering if my volunteers thus far really understand what the event is (how many different ways could I put it?) and whether they realize this will take their time and perhaps even their money. I know I shouldn't assume, but to say these things to their faces seems rather blunt. For some people, "volunteer" could mean just show up. In this case, just showing up ain't gonna cut it. And what if nobody comes to donate?
I have to admit that this Heifer event will be--for me--less about religion and more about flexing my administrative muscles for a good cause. Helping people is not a purely Christian concept, yet the church has always been a fitting frame for these sorts of missions. Heifer also happens to be the project my mother often headed in the past. Unfortunately for me, this time it will take more than a cow-shaped stamp to pull it off.
Back before I somehow chose art history as a focus, the church was yet another public forum in which to embarrass myself, much like high school. Christmas pageants and talent shows galore. Nowadays, I've been avoiding church in order to avoid answering the "What are you doing these days?" or "Found a job yet?" questions.
But I'm also planning a fundraiser for Heifer International, which requires reaching out to congregation members and being a general busy-body. I think I can make the event a lot of fun, something different than an empty envelope in the bulletin.
The one snag is how much of my own money to spend. Because there isn't much of it. Well, there are other, potential snags...I'm wondering if my volunteers thus far really understand what the event is (how many different ways could I put it?) and whether they realize this will take their time and perhaps even their money. I know I shouldn't assume, but to say these things to their faces seems rather blunt. For some people, "volunteer" could mean just show up. In this case, just showing up ain't gonna cut it. And what if nobody comes to donate?
I have to admit that this Heifer event will be--for me--less about religion and more about flexing my administrative muscles for a good cause. Helping people is not a purely Christian concept, yet the church has always been a fitting frame for these sorts of missions. Heifer also happens to be the project my mother often headed in the past. Unfortunately for me, this time it will take more than a cow-shaped stamp to pull it off.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)