I think I've mentioned Doctor Who before on this blog, but I'm too lazy to go back and see. To recap, I started watching the rebooted Doctor Who earlier this year as a distraction from thesis and the big questions of like, such as, Where am I going to live in three weeks? Fortunately, the Doctor was there to entertain me. It was the first time I ever followed a show in real time. Ah, popular culture. Still catching up. Anyways, my thoughts on the latest Christmas special under the cut.
Wednesday, December 28, 2011
Wednesday, December 21, 2011
Space and TCKs
The grief I feel about leaving Philadelphia surprises me. Grief about leaving has been a part of my life for so long, yet I still feel surprised. At least this is a more gradual transition than most of the ones I've experienced. I can come back. This is an entirely new experience: the chance to come back "home."
My old roommate gave me a framed photo last night of a sign that says, "Philadelphia: the place that LOVES YOU BACK." It might be one of the best gifts I've ever received. And it means Philadelphia will be a visible part of whatever home I create next. The concept of "home" as a process, not a place has been so freeing for me.
A positive result of thinking about life and leaving as processes has meant that the grief I feel right now is less jagged and unbearable than it has been at other times. Leaving Thailand, as I've talked about probably endlessly, was shattering on multiple levels. It's nice to learn that leaving doesn't have to be final. Returning to Thailand last year was huge. Knowing I can come up with a substantial list of friends and family to stay with here in Philly is even huger, in some ways.
I realized today that these endless processes of life transitions probably has contributed a lot to my fascination with the idea of "space" as an active construct (ala Massey 2005*). Returning to places and finding them profoundly changed, although the physical locations are the same means that the concept of space as created out infinite relations resonates with me profoundly.
In TCK circles, we talk a lot about "closure" and "leaving well." And to a great extent, this is important because it encourages acknowledging the loss of a particular place and all that means: people, pets, everything. The sights, the smells, your favorite stores. But the word "closure" also implies a finality that I think can be harmful. "Closure" brings to mind a shut door. And again, in some irrevocable ways, when a TCK (or anyone) leaves, that life is gone. Space, (as outlined above), the interrelations, are what you leave, as well as the physical location.
When I missed Thailand in college, I missed my family and my friends (who were, in most cases, scattered around the globe). I knew, very deeply, that even if I went back, I would not be "home" in what I was longing for. I was profoundly cut off; when I started college, there was no Facebook, and I could only call my parents using a prepaid phone card. Technology changed, and over the next few years the ability to stay connected through Facebook and programs like Skype increased dramatically. These technologies changed and restructured relationships between people and places and encourage a sense of connection that might not always be true offline. I feel like I need to write a paper about this now.
ANYWAY. All that to say, leaving and transitions are hard. They are never final, because the relations that connect a person to spaces as well as places cannot be terminated as through the metaphor of a closing door. I wish I'd known this sooner.
*Massey, D. (2005). For space. London, UK: SAGE Publications Ltd.
My old roommate gave me a framed photo last night of a sign that says, "Philadelphia: the place that LOVES YOU BACK." It might be one of the best gifts I've ever received. And it means Philadelphia will be a visible part of whatever home I create next. The concept of "home" as a process, not a place has been so freeing for me.
A positive result of thinking about life and leaving as processes has meant that the grief I feel right now is less jagged and unbearable than it has been at other times. Leaving Thailand, as I've talked about probably endlessly, was shattering on multiple levels. It's nice to learn that leaving doesn't have to be final. Returning to Thailand last year was huge. Knowing I can come up with a substantial list of friends and family to stay with here in Philly is even huger, in some ways.
I realized today that these endless processes of life transitions probably has contributed a lot to my fascination with the idea of "space" as an active construct (ala Massey 2005*). Returning to places and finding them profoundly changed, although the physical locations are the same means that the concept of space as created out infinite relations resonates with me profoundly.
In TCK circles, we talk a lot about "closure" and "leaving well." And to a great extent, this is important because it encourages acknowledging the loss of a particular place and all that means: people, pets, everything. The sights, the smells, your favorite stores. But the word "closure" also implies a finality that I think can be harmful. "Closure" brings to mind a shut door. And again, in some irrevocable ways, when a TCK (or anyone) leaves, that life is gone. Space, (as outlined above), the interrelations, are what you leave, as well as the physical location.
When I missed Thailand in college, I missed my family and my friends (who were, in most cases, scattered around the globe). I knew, very deeply, that even if I went back, I would not be "home" in what I was longing for. I was profoundly cut off; when I started college, there was no Facebook, and I could only call my parents using a prepaid phone card. Technology changed, and over the next few years the ability to stay connected through Facebook and programs like Skype increased dramatically. These technologies changed and restructured relationships between people and places and encourage a sense of connection that might not always be true offline. I feel like I need to write a paper about this now.
ANYWAY. All that to say, leaving and transitions are hard. They are never final, because the relations that connect a person to spaces as well as places cannot be terminated as through the metaphor of a closing door. I wish I'd known this sooner.
*Massey, D. (2005). For space. London, UK: SAGE Publications Ltd.
Wednesday, December 14, 2011
Adventures in Temping
Once I make up my mind about something, I feel much better and able to talk. So now that I've decided to go stay with my parents (most likely temping there too), I feel like sharing some of what I've endured/experienced over the last few months. Some of my temp assignments have been interesting. (Like the one where I was filing endless piles of paper; it was mind-numbingly dull but my supervisor was a very interesting woman. She liked talking about power inequalities in the workplace, so we got along just fine.) This latest assignment, however, has mostly been boring and awkward. To explain, I shall share my observations on how NOT to hit on the temp worker:
1. If the temp worker asks you where the coffee cups are, assume she just wants coffee, not a lifelong friendship.
2. Do not follow her to her desk and pump her about her dating life. One, that's just rude, two, it's creepy, and three, it's none of your business. If she is incapable of lying and making up a significant other, it is not an invitation to continue your attention. (See previous sentence.) Further, if your actions would be different if she WAS in a relationship, you need to reevaluate your motives in speaking to her. She can totally see your wedding ring.
3. Do not start emailing said temp worker "just to say hi" immediately after questioning her about her relationship status.
4. Do not continue to email her the next day, and most certainly do not ask her out to lunch. When she demurs, do not repeat your invitation with the offer to pay.
5. If, following her refusal of your lunch invitation, you continue to email and express that you have no intention of being creepy, and she responds that yes, she feels uncomfortable, stop emailing. DO NOT email her back to tell her that you think she "is a nice person." You have no way of determining this about her, and also, you just really pissed her off. Although she does try to be a nice person, this will not stop her from telling you to screw yourself if you persist.
6. Do not keep emailing her "just to say hi" while she is out of town presenting a paper to the Feminist and Women's Study Division.
7. When she returns, and you email to ask her if you are creeping her out, and she very clearly says yes, stop emailing her. Good job! She's saved all your emails, so stopping is a good move.
8. Having ceased to email, (again, good job), do not start skulking past her desk, singing, humming, coughing or otherwise seeking her attention. She does not wish to talk to you. She is glad you are going to eat some chocolate, but she does not want to hear a song about it.
Conclusion: If you have to keep explaining that you aren't being creepy, you probably should re-evaluate your habits of interacting with others.
~~
In all fairness, this particular assignment is in a very quiet and subdued office. It's hard on an extrovert (let me testify!). BUT. Here is where this situation becomes borderline harassment: as a temp worker, I am pretty powerless. I can leave the job, of course (and this is one of the factors in my decision to do so), but that only impacts me. As the full time, older, male employee, all the power resides with Creeper. He can just say he was trying to be friendly, and who am I to argue?
A graduate student, that's who!
I'll be the first to admit, I am a friendly person myself, and sometimes I must seem very approachable. I also doubt Creeper is intentionally making women feel uncomfortable (although his awareness that he might seem creepy indicates that perhaps it has been brought to his attention before). Well, I hope I can doubt that. He tends to target a few of the younger women in the office.
So Creeper might just be a lonely extrovert. But his actions still crossed a line. My one regret in this situation is that I was not more firm the first time he asked if he was being creepy. I told him I was uncomfortable, but I tried to couch my response in non-accusatory terms. I suppose I didn't want to be mean. The second time when I told him flat out to stop emailing me had a much better result. And I had to struggle a bit with feeling like I was being "mean." I wondered if I had done something to indicate I wanted that kind of attention. But watching Creeper interact with others in the office, I came to the conclusion that no, it was not me. It was totally him. I'm just glad I've had mentors who have encouraged me to stand up for myself. (I shudder to think what would have happened if this had happened right after college.)
So, lesson learned: don't be afraid to be blunt. Sometimes it's the best way to protect yourself. (And other times, it is not enough. I'm only joking about this situation because I really don't think Creeper is dangerous. He seems more the emotional blackmailer - but WHY don't you want to be my friend?! - than anything else.)
1. If the temp worker asks you where the coffee cups are, assume she just wants coffee, not a lifelong friendship.
2. Do not follow her to her desk and pump her about her dating life. One, that's just rude, two, it's creepy, and three, it's none of your business. If she is incapable of lying and making up a significant other, it is not an invitation to continue your attention. (See previous sentence.) Further, if your actions would be different if she WAS in a relationship, you need to reevaluate your motives in speaking to her. She can totally see your wedding ring.
3. Do not start emailing said temp worker "just to say hi" immediately after questioning her about her relationship status.
4. Do not continue to email her the next day, and most certainly do not ask her out to lunch. When she demurs, do not repeat your invitation with the offer to pay.
5. If, following her refusal of your lunch invitation, you continue to email and express that you have no intention of being creepy, and she responds that yes, she feels uncomfortable, stop emailing. DO NOT email her back to tell her that you think she "is a nice person." You have no way of determining this about her, and also, you just really pissed her off. Although she does try to be a nice person, this will not stop her from telling you to screw yourself if you persist.
6. Do not keep emailing her "just to say hi" while she is out of town presenting a paper to the Feminist and Women's Study Division.
7. When she returns, and you email to ask her if you are creeping her out, and she very clearly says yes, stop emailing her. Good job! She's saved all your emails, so stopping is a good move.
8. Having ceased to email, (again, good job), do not start skulking past her desk, singing, humming, coughing or otherwise seeking her attention. She does not wish to talk to you. She is glad you are going to eat some chocolate, but she does not want to hear a song about it.
Conclusion: If you have to keep explaining that you aren't being creepy, you probably should re-evaluate your habits of interacting with others.
~~
In all fairness, this particular assignment is in a very quiet and subdued office. It's hard on an extrovert (let me testify!). BUT. Here is where this situation becomes borderline harassment: as a temp worker, I am pretty powerless. I can leave the job, of course (and this is one of the factors in my decision to do so), but that only impacts me. As the full time, older, male employee, all the power resides with Creeper. He can just say he was trying to be friendly, and who am I to argue?
A graduate student, that's who!
I'll be the first to admit, I am a friendly person myself, and sometimes I must seem very approachable. I also doubt Creeper is intentionally making women feel uncomfortable (although his awareness that he might seem creepy indicates that perhaps it has been brought to his attention before). Well, I hope I can doubt that. He tends to target a few of the younger women in the office.
So Creeper might just be a lonely extrovert. But his actions still crossed a line. My one regret in this situation is that I was not more firm the first time he asked if he was being creepy. I told him I was uncomfortable, but I tried to couch my response in non-accusatory terms. I suppose I didn't want to be mean. The second time when I told him flat out to stop emailing me had a much better result. And I had to struggle a bit with feeling like I was being "mean." I wondered if I had done something to indicate I wanted that kind of attention. But watching Creeper interact with others in the office, I came to the conclusion that no, it was not me. It was totally him. I'm just glad I've had mentors who have encouraged me to stand up for myself. (I shudder to think what would have happened if this had happened right after college.)
So, lesson learned: don't be afraid to be blunt. Sometimes it's the best way to protect yourself. (And other times, it is not enough. I'm only joking about this situation because I really don't think Creeper is dangerous. He seems more the emotional blackmailer - but WHY don't you want to be my friend?! - than anything else.)
Sunday, December 11, 2011
There is no home, only the process of forming one
I went to visit my parents' new house this weekend. It was surreal to see furniture and knick knacks from before we moved overseas next to things they shipped from Thailand. I'd look at the "before" things and suddenly remember stuff I didn't know I knew. My brother is too young to remember North Carolina; actually, I might be the only one able to remember much. My parents and I talked about how strange it was, 30 years worth of their lives and all of mine, suddenly on the same continent and in the same house.
Some of the items have an even loger history. I remembered the table my younger sister cut her head on one night when she was a toddler. My dad remembers that table as the one carved by his grandfather. Furniture and silver from both my grandmothers were scattered through the boxes and haphazardly displayed. Random connections.
"I never thought we'd see these chairs again," my mom told me of a pair I remember fondly. Our old dog used to sit on them when we were out. "We gave them to our friends, and when they heard we were coming home, they offered to give them back."
Other things entrusted to friends have disappeared. But for the most part, my parents have the entire history of their marriage, their kids, and their travels all in the same place.
It was strange and emotional to consider this: my parents gave away their things, without knowing if they would see them again, and moved to a new land and started completely over. Now all the threads of their past lives are coming together, and I don't think they ever really believed this would happen. (It's very strange, even for me.)
So I understand why the thought of this thread (meaning me) potentially moving to the West Coast (and being excited about the possibility) was a bit of a shock. But if I get into school out there... I have to say, I'm a bit excited at the thought of going somewhere completely new. I wonder who I will be?
I think about threads and leaving and it's good for me to remember that sometimes things come back together in unexpected ways. I don't have much in the way of material things. I think most of my threads have to do with the people I care about. Right now it seems like the best option for me will be to leave Philly and stay with my parents for awhile. (Finances and thesis dictate this decision, more than anything.) I feel very sad about this, but it feels like the right decision. I won't be too far. And I like buses. (Also the drive is not bad at all. I was surprised.)
I guess if my parents can get their chairs back, I can stay in touch with my people. I mean, connections to furniture are kind of one sided. Relationships are multiway.
Some of the items have an even loger history. I remembered the table my younger sister cut her head on one night when she was a toddler. My dad remembers that table as the one carved by his grandfather. Furniture and silver from both my grandmothers were scattered through the boxes and haphazardly displayed. Random connections.
"I never thought we'd see these chairs again," my mom told me of a pair I remember fondly. Our old dog used to sit on them when we were out. "We gave them to our friends, and when they heard we were coming home, they offered to give them back."
Other things entrusted to friends have disappeared. But for the most part, my parents have the entire history of their marriage, their kids, and their travels all in the same place.
It was strange and emotional to consider this: my parents gave away their things, without knowing if they would see them again, and moved to a new land and started completely over. Now all the threads of their past lives are coming together, and I don't think they ever really believed this would happen. (It's very strange, even for me.)
So I understand why the thought of this thread (meaning me) potentially moving to the West Coast (and being excited about the possibility) was a bit of a shock. But if I get into school out there... I have to say, I'm a bit excited at the thought of going somewhere completely new. I wonder who I will be?
I think about threads and leaving and it's good for me to remember that sometimes things come back together in unexpected ways. I don't have much in the way of material things. I think most of my threads have to do with the people I care about. Right now it seems like the best option for me will be to leave Philly and stay with my parents for awhile. (Finances and thesis dictate this decision, more than anything.) I feel very sad about this, but it feels like the right decision. I won't be too far. And I like buses. (Also the drive is not bad at all. I was surprised.)
I guess if my parents can get their chairs back, I can stay in touch with my people. I mean, connections to furniture are kind of one sided. Relationships are multiway.
Friday, December 9, 2011
Someday I will get back to this
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Someday, someday. An analysis of the changing imagery (mostly, I'm fascinated by the inclusion of vdo rather than simply photographs) over the years.
Life is happening; will write about it when it settles, I suppose.
Someday, someday. An analysis of the changing imagery (mostly, I'm fascinated by the inclusion of vdo rather than simply photographs) over the years.
Life is happening; will write about it when it settles, I suppose.
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