Why Teenagers Are The Best

When I tell people that I work on an all-female unit (for now) at Oregon State Hospital, and love it, I get some odd looks.  But here's the thing.  Yes, the women can be (CAN be..not always...) a little more demanding of my time than men might be.  However, when it comes down to it, which is better?  Someone who will share some of their needs with you so you can help them, or someone who shuts you out and doesn't bring up their problems until they are REALLY messy/urgent?  So many these women have had so much worse done to them than they have caused, and I can't think of a single one that isn't a HUGE example of resilience and strength.  Pair that with an AWESOME interdisiplinary team, and I am blessed beyond measure.  Even after a tough week, I freaking LOVE my job!! <3

Maybe it's an ego thing.  Maybe I like to be able to say that I've taken on challenges that others have shied away from.  Or maybe it's a byproduct of living in a world where "it takes all types," but I have also loved working with teenagers, and it's one of the top 3 things I miss about working in Child Welfare.  If not the #1 thing.

Due to HIPPA and privacy issues and ethical issues, I can't go into detail about the amazing stories of resilence and strength of the amazing teen-kiddos I've worked with, but here's the thing:  Even if they are too cool for school with you, all they want in the world is for you to listen to them and take you seriously, even if you don't agree with them and even if you want them to make different choices than they ultimately make.  When a former child welfare co-worker joined me at the State Hospital, I learned that there was a particular teen on my caseload...who I thought hated me...and it turns out I was someone she really looked to and trusted.  I can't tell you how crappy I felt for assuming I didn't matter. I can't tell you how crappy I felt for not listening a little more and judging a little less.  BUT.  I can't tell you how good I felt knowing that the little I did listen, the little I did show that I care, meant a lot.

I had 2 teens in my entire child welfare career, one girl and one boy, admit to me that I had meant something to them.  (The girl more than the boy, which is to be expected).  With not an ounce of ego, I have to think that by showing up, by being someone with decision-making capability in their lives, that I made a difference.  How much I cared determined how much of a difference, and how positive a difference.

You don't have to be "cool" to work with teens.  I'm not.  I never was.  You just have to give a damn.  You have to care enough to get pissed off and cry when they go missing.  You have to care enough to be honest with them about what will make them successful.  Most of all, you have to care enough to be vulnerable, to show them your heart, to show them that you want them to kick butt and take names.

For some reason, we are afraid, in our professional lives, to use the L-word.  But whether a kid is 2 or 17, you have to be willing to love them.  You don't have to say it, because they can tell.

Hello again! Some boring thoughts on wedding and marriage, since that's what's in my head right now.

I keep sitting down to write in this thing, and coming up empty.  Lots of complex stuff going on in the world, but if I take a position on something, I like to make sure that at least to my own standards, it's somewhat sort of airtight.  And sometimes I have trouble articulating why I believe what I do.  So sometimes events pass me by.

But right now there is 6 weeks and change until I am a married woman, so that is what I am sort of living and breathing, at least outside of work.

So here is what I have to say about everything.

When I was 20.5 years old, I moved out of my childhood home.  I spent the first 2 years of college at community college and still lived with Mom and Dad.  Once I chose OSU, it felt like the right thing, and the first time I visited it felt like home.  Still, the whole moving out thing was scary.

Mom and Dad dropped Steven and I off (yep, we went to the same college, on the same day, and lived across the street from each other).  Mom and Dad's leaving was delayed by helping us unload and a trip to the bookstore, but they couldn't hang around forever. In room 28 of Dixon Lodge, they hugged us goodbye, and as soon as the waterworks started, Steven bolted for his dorm!!

My parents leaving me at college felt scary, even though I was a little older than average to be going through this.  They only lived 60 miles away and they were leaving us with a car; my brother was right across the street, and I had lots of friends from high school who were at OSU.  I knew how to be a college student, I knew how to take care of myself and pay basic bills.  There wasn't a whole lot about this that was going to be unfamiliar to me, but the whole idea of "going away to college" sounded big and scary, if exciting.

Similarly, the wedding details are coming along.  I've had a long time to plan, and everything that is really important to me is in place.  I even managed to lose 10 pounds, once I stopped trying (go figure).

Just like how, before leaving my parents' home, I had acquired the most important basic life skills, I do feel like I have some pretty good adult and relationship skills mastered.  I have no fears about spending the rest of my life with Zach.  We are not perfect together, but the nature and length of our relationship has tested and strengthened it.  We will be fine.  If I think about us living together and starting a life together, it just sounds natural.

However, when I think about it too hard, I get a little freaked out about the word "marriage" and my ability to be a..gulp...wife!!  I somehow imagine that my dad walking me down the aisle will be akin to he and my mom dropping me off at college that first time.

Thus far, moving away to college was probably my most life-changing and dramatic transition, and I came away from it with a degree and a gaggle of some of the most beloved friends and memories in my life.

Getting married will be an even bigger transition, but I'm coming to realize that these things come with big rewards!!

Pray for us, friends!

Life lessons of the past few days

On Sunday, my car stopped working.  It wasn't entirely unexpected.  It was a 2000 and I got it in 2009, so it wasn't exactly new then, and I managed to put a few miles on it.  It was nearing the 220k mark.  I was hoping, though, that it would at least last me until the wedding.  Unfortunately, it didn't even get me to mass.  (I think God understands).  Considering that I was in Vancouver, and Zach's car was also in the shop, this was somewhat problematic.  Work yesterday (Monday) was just not a possibility, and early in the day the mechanic I took it to let me know that the engine was probably done for, and that my best bet would probably be to look into something different.

Cue panic mode.

There is one guy I go to for car shopping, one guy who has always helped me find a good car and negotiate well for it, and that's my dad.  But he was at work, and I didn't want to throw away my money on a second rental car for several days, knowing my car had a DNR order on it.  Since I already was skipping work anyway, and since I was going to have to put in some hefty hours the next few days to make up for it, I decided that yesterday would be the day I got my next car.

Lesson #1: A new stage in our relationship.
Zach and I are getting married in 3 months plus a few days.  He does not know NEARLY as much about cars as my dad.  But looking back on it, I strongly believe this was something we needed to go through together.  He helped me ask good questions, and I brought along my previous car buying experience, since this is my 5th car, and the second one I have financed.  We made a great team.  Who knows, my dad may have been able to tell me a little more about the car type (Pontiac Grand Prix) or helped me finagle down a few dollars (although I am pretty happy with the price) but I think it was a relationship-edifying experience for Zach and I.  Even though our residences and finances are separate for now, we are preparing to combine these things, so this was a decision we made together, and I am so happy to have felt so supported in such a new and terrifying situation.

Lesson #2: Be Prepared
In school I've always been a procrastinator.  I always found it hard to work on a paper if I wasn't staring down the clock.  Curiously, in other areas of my life I've not been a procrastinator.  In Child Welfare, knowing that an emergency could happen at any moment that would take me away from my desk all day and potentially make me work late into the night, I always started, and usually finished, any court reports far in advance of when they were due.  When it comes to life milestones I'm excited about, I research them a lot.  Maybe to the point of obsessiveness.  I started applying for jobs 6 months before I graduated with my MSW, and had several potential "paths" in mind that I could take, depending on who was willing to hire me.  I had my criteria for a job laid out, and I matched jobs that met those criteria with jobs where I would be a good fit for them.  It meant that for the better part of a year I was doing something very draining and difficult,  but it's led me to a job I'm very happy with currently.    I am not stressing about my wedding because I have all the major details figured out.  I know what kind of place Zach and I would like to live in as soon as its feasible, and I have a good sense of the market and what is available for what rental price.  And, most notably, I have known for some time that my car would not last forever, so even though I've never felt ready to buy, I have researched obsessively, I know what's available at what I was willing to pay, I knew some things to ask about, and I knew which dealerships had a great reputation. I am very happy with both the dealership and the car I chose, feel free to ask me about it if you are in the market.

Lesson #3: Do everything you can to have a little money stored away.
I didn't make a large down payment.  But I had enough stored away that making a down payment was a possibility.  So even though buying a new-to-me car about 10 hours realizing that it could be necessary was stressful, I knew that it was do-able.  Money doesn't solve everything, but sometimes it's nice to have a little cash to throw at an unexpected problem.  I can do better in this area...and after this experience, I will.

And finally, Lesson #4: Smile.
I won't say that I didn't stress out about this.  I did.  A lot.  Even yesterday after we had it all resolved, I tossed and turned for hours before falling asleep.  But before you cry and make yourself crazy, step back from the situation, realize ways in which it could have been worse, recognize the blessings around you, and realize that no crazy situation like this lasts forever.  My silver lining was coming away with a car with air conditioning (seriously, it has way more interesting features than that, but after 3 and a half years in a car with no AC, this was a BIG DEAL to me), and an increased sense of being able to make mature decisions.

Career vs. Vocation, and following your passion

Sometimes visiting my parents’ house brings back interesting memories.  Today I dropped by, and my mom showed me an invitation to my 14-year-old cousin’s 8^th grade graduation.  I find it totally impossible that little Jack who I held in my arms just yesterday (ok, in 1999) is now probably over 6 feet tall, smarter than most people I know, and graduating from 8^th grade!

I was thinking back to my own graduation.  It was a small class (13 people…it was a small, rural school), so each of us got a lot of attention.  We were all supposed to write something about our future plans, to be read by the emcee as we individually walked out into the audience to give our parents a rose.  I wrote that I would like to go to college after high school, and earn a degree in psychology.

I was thinking about how similar that is to what actually happened, and how that’s really not accidental at all.  I have this fantastic aunt who I admire and adore.  She is 9 years younger than my dad, and 17 years older than me, so closer to my age than most aunts are.  When I was in about 2^nd grade or so, she was in graduate school studying to be a counselor.  I remember asking my mom what a counselor was and what they do, and as my mom explained that to me, something just clicked for me, and I knew that’s what I wanted to do, or something similar.

It’s the difference between a career and a vocation.  A career is simply a professional path.  A vocation, in my mind, is part of you.  It is part of your calling, what you are meant to do and part of who you are meant to be.  Something at least marginally related to the world of counseling, I believe, is my vocation.  And I happened to be lucky enough to stumble across it at a young age.  And as I learned more about social work and what it is and how it relates to the field of counseling but is more specifically related to anti-oppression and social justice…I just feel so blessed to have been led into this field.  I feel like it fits my personality, and that it has also helped shape who I am.  I say “led into the field” rather than “stumbled into the field,” because as a Catholic Christian, I believe that God has been guiding me here all along, and He has specific work for me to do that I may not even know about yet.

To look back and think about all the ways I got to where I am now by twists and turns like a river just amazes me.

I specifically chose to apply to a Master’s of Social Work program because when I decided to really pursue a career as a counselor (more on that in a minute) I had a roommate who wanted to be a children’s play therapist, and she explained to me that in Oregon, you can only bill insurance for therapy (at least at the Master’s level) if you are licensed as a clinical social worker.  (That has since changed:  it changed during my first year in graduate school, which I did not get into until my third year of applying.  It sends shivers up my spine.  If that had happened one year earlier, I may have tried to become an LPC or an LMFT, but I am SO glad I ended up in social work!)

Even though I knew since elementary school that I wanted to be a counselor of some sort, I spent several years convinced that I wanted to do something else (Youth Ministry, to be specific).  I probably would have enjoyed it and everything, and it is a very important vocation, but I now believe that it just wasn’t mine.  In some ways it had elements of what I really wanted to be doing, and I was passionate about that too (and truthfully could have probably been quite happy doing it), but I now believe that it wasn’t what I was called to do.

The reason I gave up on the idea of being a counselor is so ridiculously silly (in retrospect, of course) that I almost hesitate to share the story of why.  It was all because of a conversation with an older cousin of mine, when I was probably 11 or 12.  This particular cousin is about as wonderful and positive of a person as you could imagine, and by no means would have said anything intentionally discouraging.   I was talking to her about my aunt and her job, and my cousin simply said (admiringly) “Yeah, it takes a special kind of person to do what Janet does.”  For some stupid ass reason, I interpreted this to mean that this kind of person was EXTREMELY rare, and then further analyzed it down to this rationale: There could not possibly be two people from the same family who could do that kind of job.  Janet was already doing it, so I was out, I should just pick something else to do with my life.  Kids are weird, and I was apparently an exceptionally weird one.  (Seriously…what the heck?)  What’s even weirder is that I held on to that for YEARS.  The comment my cousin made was not even remotely directed at me.  In fact, when I said at my 8^th grade graduation that I would like to earn a degree in psychology, I kinda just said that for something to say, still thinking I needed to choose something else.  When I finally realized that I really wanted to do counseling (or something related) and not youth ministry, I was 21 and on a retreat in college.  The realization hit me like a ton of bricks, and I completely changed career paths in less than a minute, literally.  I spent the rest of the weekend SUPER EXCITED about my new plans, talked to an advisor that week when I got back to Corvallis, and changed my major from Spanish and Education (yes, these things did fit in with my Youth Ministry career goal) to Sociology, and I haven’t looked back since.

What I am really trying to say here is that I think we all have a vocation.  We all have ways in which our lives are given meaning, and which we give meaning to other people.  For some, this is through paid employment.  For others, it is through family life, volunteer work, or just who they are, perhaps a passionate hobby or something of the like.  Whatever that vocation is, it is bound to begin showing up in your life over and over, and it is unlikely to let go of you if you are unwilling to acknowledge and welcome it!  As a human being, you are precious, you are worth so much, and you have so much to give to others.  Be open to it!  All of what I just said is less a compliment/affirmation, and more of a challenge.  What are you going to do with your gifts?

As for me, my role right now isn’t explicitly counseling, and that’s ok.  I have an incredible opportunity to help women in a bad position make their lives a little better, worth living.  Sometimes I get worn out or irritable, and it is so important for me to return to work tomorrow (after a fantastic 4 day weekend) ready to remember my vocation, my calling, and to remember that I have something I need to give, as well as much to learn from the amazing women I get to work with.

My completely un-informed and non-scientific ideas about global warming

It seems that global warming has become a hot topic once again.  Apparently some group of scientists got together and 33% of them expressed an opinion on whether global warming is happening, and of those, 97% thinks it is.  Or at least, this is what I have gathered from facebook.

It seems to me that in the last 100-150 years, we have drastically increased the amount of nasty stuff we send floating off into the air, and it makes sense that we are harming the environment in some way, so it would not surprise me if human-caused global warming is happening.  You pretty much can't deny that exhaust fumes aren't exactly awesome for the air.  I remember being in 7th grade, and going on a trip to Disneyland where we flew into LAX.  We stepped outside, and I looked up wanting to drink in the sun...but the sky looked kind of brown.  I took a deep breath, and I could TASTE the air.  Blech.  It was that bad.  I tried to see if I could only take like 2 breaths per minute to avoid tasting it again, but that didn't last too long.

I know very little about environmental science, and I know that it's a jump from pollution to global warming.  So I'll just say that I don't know anything but I think global warming is possible.

However, for me in my day-to-day life, it doesn't really matter.  It's kind of like being a Christian and debating about whether creation happened in 7 days or whether the Genesis story is an allegory and God guided the process of evolution.  EITHER WAY, we believe that we were lovingly created by a divine being, right?  How He did it should have basically no bearing in how we worship Him or go about our daily lives.

In the same way, who cares how exactly our lives of waste and excess are affecting the environment--they are affecting it, and we each (me included!) need to think about what changes we can make to live more sustainably.

Not so sexist after all

Last night Zach and I continued along with our movie series at the Elsinore.  This one was from the early 1950’s, and it was called All About Eve.

On our way in, the theater handed us a program of sorts that included a few pages describing and somewhat dissecting the movie.  It mentioned that the movie probably wouldn’t play well in the modern era because of a particular line that is criticized as anti-feminist/anti-woman.

In the play, a 40 year old actress who has dedicated her long days and nights to her career,  says something to the effect that her life means nothing without a man in it.  On the surface level, that sounds pretty bad.  Before I met Zach, what I had to strive for was advancement in my career.  I also had great friends and family who gave my life meaning.  I wouldn’t say that life without him was meaningless, and certainly, it was not meaningless because of my gender.  However, in the context of the entire movie, it must be noted that she was talking about a particular man who had been her significant other for some time.

The character was not implying that her life lacked meaning because she was a woman, and women don’t matter if they are not attached to a man.  She was implying that there was someone who had stuck by her and pursued her even when she was being a pill, and that her life would be richer if she devoted some time to him.

It is one of the most basic human longings, to yearn for someone to share our lives with, someone we can trust, someone we can depend on long-term.  This is neither a uniquely male nor uniquely female desire, but a human desire.  And it is good.  Work is a part of our lives, and it is a good part of our lives, but it must be balanced by real connection and real love for our lives to have meaning.  Living simply to work is a disordered way of living.  While work can be a source of joy (and truly, I love my job) and a significant way to contribute to our communities, it is also a means of supporting the ones we love. 

I am not afraid to say that, while I feel proud of the work I’ve put into getting to where I’m at in a career I love, finding “the one” and having a (someday) family has always been a bigger goal to me than my career.  The reason the career came first is that attaining it was more within my control.  The fact that marriage/family is a more important goal to me might not be the “cool” thing to say, but it’s true, and I don’t feel it makes me any less a feminist.  I am sure there are plenty of men who prioritize their goals in similar ways, and ultimately I believe that this is a fundamentally good way of looking at things, and a sign that one’s priorities are in the right place.

As a side note, I would also like to add that there is a younger actress in this movie (“Eve”) who attempts to seduce the husbands of two women who are older than she is, and the husbands will have none of it.  They don’t even entertain the idea.  I don’t feel like I see very many shows or movies where this would be the case these days, and I found it refreshing.  (I also feel lucky and proud to have a fiancé who I believe with my whole heart is that kind of stand-up faithful man.)

Since a few weeks ago, I complained about how horrified I was that a movie from the 1950’s showcased domestic violence as both romantic and comedic, I felt that it was important to recognize that there is value to be gained from the culture of that particular decade.

The "Good Old Days"

I hear a lot of yearning for days gone by.  This is not just from people in my parents' and grandparents' generation, but peers as well.  Lots of posts on facebook reminisce about days when you played kickball out in the street until Mom called you in for dinner, and there were no cell phones or video games.  "Repost this list if you were born before 1985!" is not something hard to find.

Certainly, that reminiscing isn't without merit.  There are inherently good things about not having everything in life be available at your fingertips or open until 4am.  And we sure did connect in a more personal and genuine way when we couldn't hide behind email and text, and when we couldn't cancel on our friends at the last minute because they weren't carrying a phone around with them.  I definitely worry frequently about what my future children's lives will be like.  I don't want them having a cell phone or a social media account when they are 8 years old, but am I realistically going to be able to prevent those things?

However, my thesis statement of this post is that there are things about the modern era that are better than past eras.  Racial segregation comes immediately to mind.  In the not-so-distant past, interracial marriage was illegal in many parts of the country.  (HORRIFYING thought, if you ask me).

Here's another example.  Last night Zach and I went to the first installment of a weekly film series at the Elsinore Theater in downtown Salem.  They were showing "The Quiet Man," which is a 1952 movie starring John Wayne and Maureen O'Hara.  In many ways it is a charming movie about good old-fashioned romance.  The protagonist sweeps into town, romances a pretty girl, and works at asking for her hand in marriage.

The movie also has a significant darker side.  Throughout the second half of the movie, the plot revolves around a newlywed conflict.  The new bride refuses to consummate the marriage because the protagonist fails to procure some treasured/sentimental belongings.  While this may be immature and unloving behavior, part of his reaction is to grab her, slam her against a wall, and force an unwanted kiss on her while roughly holding her head by her hair.  He then picks her up and throws her on the bed with such force that the bed frame falls apart.  I half-expected that he was going to rape her, and was relieved when he did not.  (Credit where credit is due: he does take the chivalrous course of sleeping in the living room on the floor in a sleeping bag, instead of on the busted bed with her.)

Roughing up a woman and forcing a kiss on her is NOT romantic.

The plot continues with her running away because he will not demand her dowry from her brother (again, bratty behavior on the part of the woman...).  he chases her down, then physically drags her all through town while a large crowd is following them.  They are watching, cheering as he drags her along the ground, occasionally slapping/shoving her.  He then brings her to her brother, shoves her at him, and says that if the brother won't give up the money, he can have his sister back.  This would be one thing if the purpose of this scene was to highlight how wrong it is to view a woman as a possession or how wrong spousal violence is, but this scene was intended as comedy (and was accompanied by laughs from much of the audience.  Since they were from a different generation, I did my best to be understanding about this).

While watching this scene, I could feel my chest constrict and my face get flushed.  Maureen O'Hara's character was not being a good or loving wife, but violence is NEVER an acceptable response except as reasonable self defense.  I felt horrified that this was ever seen as comedy and not abuse, and I feel grateful that this kind of scene passed off as "comedy" today would launch an outrage.

I do still think that racial and gender inequality are problems in the modern world, but I thank God they are less problematic than they were a couple of generations ago, back in the "good old days."

Perhaps one generation or era is not better than another, but instead each generation or era has its own strengths and weaknesses: things to be proud of, and things to work on.