gotta catch 'em all

Similar to every other person, I have a complicated family. Not generally the fun kind that drives you bonkers at Christmas but you love no matter what. My relationships with my immediate family have been difficult and because of that, I have not always been terribly close to my extended family.

Most importantly, my relationships with my parents have been a source of anxiety, hurt, and a wide array of nastiness. It was never easy and rarely pleasant for many years. During that time, something important happened, I developed a new family, a conglomeration of individuals and groups that created my own little happiness. Not one of blood and obligation. My new family was a patchwork of love and support and mutual trust and respect. It started when friends’ families would invite me for holidays when I couldn’t get home to Illinois. For example, Thanksgiving ’10 lasted four days with at least four meals and a week’s worth of leftovers. By the time Monday and my overextended person rolled around, several more families had adopted me.

Part of this is simply going to school far from home. There are few things quite as sad as a college student alone in an apartment getting through the holiday season. But something about me screams “Take care of me!” I can only assume it is my general disregard for my own well being sometimes and my charming aroma of madness but whatever it is, I do not know anyone who has more people rooting for him or her than I do. 

In the past year or so, many of my relationships have changed. As any other twenty-something progressing through early adulthood, I have begun to widdle the relationships that might not be as healthy or make me as happy to be able to maintain those that truly matter. I also became an adult who was capable of maintaining relationships with extended family without the assistance of my parents which helps a lot.

The most important relationship that has grown in this process is with my dad. I won’t go into the gushy details of how happy I am, but I am. I wish we could have gotten here years ago but I am starting to understand why we didn’t and probably couldn’t and I am at peace with it. What matters is that we are where we are and it is a good place to be.

Best part of all of this is, I get to keep them all. From the three or more incredible women I spent time with or thought of on Mother’s Day to the Aunt and Uncle who are still saved in my phone with reversed genders (i.e Uncle Pam & Aunt Mark) because I was a very confused five year old. I love my collection of humans who love me. I may have just associated my situation with Ash capturing and collecting Pokemon… Hm, battling the Bauers and the Ballantines.

In sum, I am a lucky gal.

The Perks of Nepotism

Nepotism and good timing got me a job at the office where my dad works. He does sales or customer something. I mop floors. At no point will I complain about having paid employment. I find it somewhat amusing that I am currently employed in a position I could get if I dropped out of high school but I see nothing wrong with my job. It is fairly mindless and mostly involves watering plants, tying myself up in a vacuum cord and hunting down the criminal who keeps stomping his muddy feet all over the kitchen area. I also do some manual production. Stuffing envelopes and getting orders together. I had a month until I leave for camp and I needed something temporary. The guy before me got fired because "he had a brain the size of a flea" and here we are.

This is all fine and dandy. I get up at 5:30-5:45 am and I am home by 4 which gives me an hour to read at the forest preserve down the street before the dog walking crowd makes their rounds. If I have time which I haven't this week. It works well with my schedule, I'm getting paid well for what I'm doing, and I get to spend a couple hours a day with my dad which is pretty cool.

I'm trying to remember the last time I was spoken to like I was stupid. This does not include mansplaining. But like the other person truly believes that I lack the mental faculties to comprehend words larger than two consonants. I have my moments but in general, I'm fairly intelligent. As I become more and more comfortable with that and don't simply act unintelligent (for a variety of reasons) people talk to me less and less like I am. It makes sense but it has also been a while since I picked up on someone who thought I was inferior due to intellect. Age, gender, SES, sure. Intelligence, nope.

It is quite interesting meeting people as the daughter of their coworker who was about the graduate with a master's degree and just returned home from an internship in Rwanda and then interacting with them as basically a janitor and how that changes the way they speak to me because it does. They go from asking me for book recommendations to smiling and averting their eyes. Roughly half of those who do talk to me do so in simple sentences.

I won't bother going into details about the guy who pills food on the counter, looks at me, puts his garbage down next to it, and walks out of the room. Seriously, what self-respecting human over the age of four DOES THAT?

My favorite comment so far was on the my first day. A man came up to me and said, you are so pretty, why are you cleaning offices? ... Excuse me sir, but what on EARTH does that mean? What would you suggest I do? Go smile on the streets? That would make me either a beggar or a prostitute and I'm not interested in either of those situations. I was so confused that I shook my head and walked away. The same man later said he thought I was 16. That's not creepy or anything.

The point of all of this is, I get to leave. In two weeks I will be on my way to camp and then hopefully on to a job that I can appropriately use the 6 years of school I just finished. But most people who are working in my position don't have that option. In general, people don't choose to wash floors over just about any other job. This job is frustrating not because I empty the same recycling bin day after day but because the people I work with treat me as if that is all I am or all that I am capable of. I hate to think that people spend their lives doing this. No one deserves to be treated as less than based on occupation. Or really anything else if we are going to get down to it.

moving forward

I was not sure if I would continue writing once I returned to the States and settled in. I'm still not sure what this will look like now but I felt like writing so here we are.

The word jealous in it various forms has cropped up a few times now since I've been home. People saying they are jealous of my experience or some derivative. These interactions make me squirm and I could not quite determine why but I've come to two reasons.

1. I'm not usually the person people are jealous of. Or at least it isn't articulated to me. I'm usually scoffed at and picked on for a lot of my ideas and behaviors. Which I'm fine with because I am content with my life. I try to do what I think is best and live a life I can be proud of. I know most people wouldn't make many of the choices I do and that's fine. This leads to my next point...

2. I have an incredible life full of people who love and support me, yes. I have had awesome opportunities that I'm sure are a product of privilege but I have also worked very hard. Throughout the past fiveish years of adulthood, I have made a few very hard decisions and been shaped by both wonderful and heartbreaking circumstances. I am a sum of every experience, just as everyone else is. To be jealous of my life at this moment discounts everything that led to this, which I don't think many people would be jealous of.

What I'm trying to say is that life is a procession of moments. Every moment people are making the decisions that are best for them. Others might not understand or agree, but every individual knows himself or herself and his or her experiences better than anyone else could. My decisions have led me in a different path than most, yes. I have made sacrifices and taken risks. Some have worked out and some have not. It does absolutely help that I have family and friends who support me through all of it.

And I haven't even begun to address what being jealous of my experience in Rwanda really means, which would take way more time than I have right now with graduation in a few days.

I'm not trying to discount others' feelings and I do appreciate the intended sentiment behind the word jealous. Basically, don't be jealous. Of me or anyone else. Live your life. Make the decisions and take the risks to make your life what you want it to be. Life is scarey and confusing and overwhelming but those aren't reasons not to live it.