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Putting the I back into responsibility

As I sit in our ensuite, I gaze around with pride remembering how I built this. I built the room structure before plumbing in a toilet, sink and shower. I tiled the walls and laid the flooring. The only thing I didn’t do was plaster the walls, not really my forte and sometimes we have to recognise our own limitations. A few weeks ago though, I wasn’t admiring a job well done; the shower leaked. Nothing drastic, but nonetheless there would be a small pool of water outside of the shower after use. The problem being that the floor wasn’t level, therefore the shower tray wasn’t level, and this left a gap under the shower door. I’d tried to adjust the frame but had taken it to its limit which meant the door was wobbly. I didn’t think much of the mastic job around the shower either, uneven and already starting to lift slightly in places.

The problem is obvious, the floor is not level, I didn’t build the house so that’s someone else’s fault. There’s not enough compensation in the frame to rectify the first problem, poor shower design if you ask me. I can’t think of an excuse for the mastic debacle.

Now I can sit in the ensuite every morning for as long as I like lamenting others’ poor workmanship and poor design, and I did for a while, but it won’t solve the problem.

I decided to try to fix the issue, after all, in the current climate we do have to try to keep ourselves amused.  Thinking about this, I really ought to have made a better job of levelling the shower tray in the first place. Too late now though, it’s bonded in place.  I decided to move the shower frame away from the wall slightly, this adjustment was enough to stabilise the door, why I didn’t do this in the first place I can’t say, probably too focused on finishing the job, maybe a bit of laziness crept in. The adjustment also meant that the gap below the door was minimised and this solved the leak.  I took all the mastic off around the shower tray and started again. A far better finish was achieved.

In deciding to do something about the problem, I stopped seeing it as a problem, stopped blaming others and stopped thinking about my misfortune.  I took responsibility for my own poor workmanship, realising that I had failed to take into account the fact the floor wasn’t level. 

Sometimes we spend too much time complaining about problems, finding fault in others, that we fail to see where we might have done better. When we fall short, we blame others or blame circumstances, rarely do we consider that we could have done the job better or handled the situation differently.  If we start to take responsibility for our own shortcomings, then the world becomes a better place.  Putting the ‘I’ back into ‘responsibility’ really is quite empowering.  ‘When fate hands us a lemon, let’s try to make a lemonade’ (Carnegie, 1998:185).   

Reference

Carnegie, D (1998) How to Stop Worrying and Start Living, London: Vermilion

Classified/Wanted Ads #BlackenAsiaWithLove

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Primary Source 26

“Help wanted—male” classified ad, Chicago Defender
General Research & Reference Division, Schomburg Center for Research in Black Culture, The New York Public Library, Astor, Lenox, and Tilden Foundation.
December 1, 1917*

PERSONALS

Couple seeks big, black buck for ravishment and master/slave role play. We’re are adventurous, old, white, middle-aged, middle-class couple newly empty nested. You: Tall, dark, hung, handsome and comfortable acting out domestic violence scenes. Tattoos, gun wounds and knife-scars a bonus. Extra paid for prison-time served.

Turn to pages 3-7 for pretty little white girls. There are plenty of new ads from kitchens to bedrooms and boardrooms seeking supporting roles.

Next week, no more of this diversity crap.

Afterwards:

Stuck at home on lockdown, I have (unwittingly), more regularly engaged with much more TV. Searching for entertainment, I’m continually amazed by the permutations of harmful stereotypes. Since childhood I’ve often wondered about the labour that buttresses this trade in harmful stereotypes. In my daily role as an educator, I expose my students (and I) to myriads of ways of seeing. This piece is one response to the cognitive dissonance between the two spheres of social and intellectual instruction. Don’t worry, books still live!

 

*https://teachers.phillipscollection.org/artwork/help-wanted%E2%80%94male-classified-ad-chicago-defender

Featured image: https://www.newspapers.com/clip/478/emma-martin/

A $40 tip at the all-day-breakfast joint (A Prose about this American moment). #BlackenAsiaWithLove

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1st Sunday 2020 Sunrise over Lake Jordan, Alabama

It’s 6:20am.

I’ve stopped by an infamous breakfast food chain and ordered a bottomless coffee, and a breakfast combo that comes with two fried eggs, two different rations of fried pork and bottomless pancakes.

Waiting for my order, I notice that not less than four varieties of syrup rest on the table, accompanied by salt, pepper, and a ceramic cup full of packages of sugar and two varieties of artificial sweeteners.

A whole tub of single-serve full fat creamers comes with my bottomless coffee, which I promptly sent back.

 

The young lady serving is massively obese, as are most of the other people who both serve and patronize this business.

And this is business as usual throughout the south, and now most of America, particularly at these sorts of times, especially in these sorts of businesses.

 

The joint had only been open since the top of the hour, and so I could overhear the duty manager dealing out the day’s duty rations.

 

As two of the team followed her around, I heard her explain that she was reserving the spillover seating section for whoever showed up “super-late.”

Knowing management speak, I heard ‘super-late’ as a shaming label used to monitor and control behavior.

 

I heard her punctuate these instructions by explaining that someone’s shift had started at 5:30 yet they still hadn’t shown up.

 

 

“You ok, sweetie,” the young lady breezes over and asks me casually.

“I’m fine,” I quickly replied, adding: “It’s good, too,” as if she or the cook had actually hand-made any of this meal.

They’ve each opened a prescribed set of processed-food packages, followed heavily prescribed recipes, and followed heavily prescribed orders passed down from management.

And yet I do appreciate their labour.

 

In my capacity, I get to sit and muse about them, while THIS is their career.

Yesterday, while sitting in another infamously southern* roadside-mass-food-chain, my uncle mentioned that he was pleased to see that young people were working at these types of places again.

“Uh huh,” I hummed agreeingly as I panned the restaurant noting the youthfulness of the staff.

 

Since the 90’s and certainly since the recession, these jobs had become life-long career moves, where previously these were held down by early-career part-timers.

Whether paying their way through school or training, or beefing their resumes for eventual factory employment, these part-timer jobs weren’t suitable for adults as they come with few, if any, benefits…most notably, healthcare.

This satellite town, for example, sits just outside the seat of Civil Rights and grew during Jim Crow around a large paper mill that one can still smell miles away.

 

 

Back in my bottomless breakfast, my server keeps inquiring if I’m ok as she goes about setting up the condiments and flatware for each table.

 

I’m the only one here, which I remark upon.

This is the south, so that remark garnered a whole commentary on her part.

 

She detailed when they opened and closed, and that she’d recently shifted from the nightshift to mornings, as “making $10 here and $10 there don’t cut it.”

 

 

She then added that she’d served a party of 15 who’d left her a $40 tip.

She further explained that last year she’d served at a 1-year old’s birthday party, “because they didn’t have no cake.”

By now, I’ve gotten a good look at the server and sense that she’s in her mid-twenties.

 

As I listen, I, of course, contemplate what sort of tip I should leave: Would it be obscene to leave a $10 tip which I could easily afford. Afterall, I had shown up in what must seem like a large, expensive, exotic European vehicle (how could she know it’s my mom’s not mine; how would she know that I’m just passing through town).

 

 

This year, she continued, they had her “second birthday party right back there,” pointing to a far corner.

 

Remember, all I did to kick off this conversation was remark how quiet it was at this time in the morning.

From then on, the server kept offering me little tidbits of info each time she passed by.

I hadn’t lived in the south for many years, but it was still this sort of human interaction that drummed-up home for me.

 

“I’m gonna go ahead and do my syrups,” she quipped as she passed each table over lightly with a dry cloth.

 

Then, after passing to reassure me that my next helping of pancakes was on its way, she explained that the location was under new management.

Pointing to the woman I’d overheard earlier dealing out duties and instructions, the server said, “This one’s only been here since Sunday.”

It’s Tuesday morning.

 

Now, I notice that the server has leaned against a nearby chair, pausing with her other hand on her hip.

It’s as if settling in to tell me a good story. She is now giving me unsolicited insider information.

I start to realize and remember just how such interactions are so disarming. She had something to say each time she was within earshot, as if mindfully managing our shared personal space.

I smile at this realization, recalling the familiarity with which people speak in Vietnam. The distance of more formal ways of being and communicating seem silly here…and there.

 

I am simultaneously reminded of life in Mali, where people genuinely do greet anyone nearby, referring to those in their personal space with some term of familial familiarity depending on the relationship and perceived ages like auntie/uncle,  or else girl/boy-friend (teri- muso/ce), big/little- sister/brother (koro-/dogo- muso/ce).

 

It’s as if all of these experiences collide into the present moment, and I experience them all at once, like Dr. Manhattan.

 

The server then explained in detail how the previous manager had fallen ill and could therefore only show up intermittently.

Apparently, the point of all this was that they were hiring a manager, and sought someone outside the current team, because, as my server said, “We all know one another.”

“Don’t that make sense,” she said raising her brow, nodding grinningly.

“So, if you know anybody with management experience,” she said, then tailored off.

 

I suddenly wonder what Flannery O’Conner must have witnessed in her life and times in the dirty south.

I was on my way to grab a coffee at THAT internationally known coffee house, but passed this all-day-breakfast joint on the way.

 

I recalled the bottomless offers here and knew I could get more value here than a $5 Latte. Sure, I’ve got country music in the background, but at least it’s not tuned to conservative propaganda Faux News like in most other public spaces here in Alabama.

 

Indeed, for just a few dollars more, I’ve got access to bottomless filtered coffee and well more than any human should eat in any one sitting.

 

Besides, no one is in here posing, and, as I said, I got a side of free companionship.

 

 

 

 

 

*Infamously southern food consists of mostly fried foods negotiated in ingredients and meaning along the color line.

Things I used to could do without a phone. #BlackenAsiaWithLove

A Spoken Word poem for young people everywhere, esp Youth in Asia, who may never know WE LIVED before smartphones…and live to tell about it.

Walk.

Walk down the street.

Find my way.

Go someplace.

Go someplace I had previously been.

Go someplace I had previously not been.

Meet.

Meet friends.

Meet friends at a specific time and place.

Meet new people.

Meet new people without suspicion.

Strike up a conversation with a stranger.

Make myself known to a previously unknown person.

Now, everything and everyone unknown is literally described as ‘weird’.

Eat.

Eat in a restaurant by myself.

Pay attention to the waiter.

Wait for my order to arrive.

Sit.

Sit alone.

Sit with others.

Listen.

Listen to the sound of silence.

Listen to music.

Listen to a whole album.

Listen to the cityscape.

Overhear others’ conversations in public.

Watch kids play.

Shop.

Drive.

Share.

Share pictures.

Take pictures.

Develop pictures.

Frame pictures.

See the same picture in the same spot.

Read.

Read a book.

Read a long article.

Read liner notes.

Pee.

I used to be able to stand at a urinal and focus on what I was doing,

Not feeling bored,

Not feeling the need to respond to anything that urgently.

Nothing could be so urgent that I could not, as the Brits say, ‘take a wee’.

Wait.

Wait at a traffic light.

Wait for a friend at a pre-determined place and time.

Wait for my turn.

Wait for a meal I ordered to arrive.

Wait in an office for my appointment.

Wait in line.

Wait for anything!

I used to appreciate the downtime of waiting.

Now waiting fuels FOMO.

I used to enjoy people watching…

Now I just watch people on their phones.

It’s genuine anxiety.

Walk.

Walk from point A to B.

I used to could walk between two known points without having to mark the moment with a post.

Now I can’t walk down the hall,

Or through the house or even to the toilet without checking my phone.

I avoid eye contact with strangers.

Anyone I don’t already know is strange.

I used to could muscle through this awkwardness.

Talk.

Have a conversation.

A friend and I recently lamented about how you used to could have a conversation and

Even figure out a specific thing that you couldn’t immediately recall…

Just by talking.

I also appreciate the examples we discussed.

Say you wanted to mention a world leader but couldn’t immediately remember their name. What would you do before?

Rattle off the few facts you could recall and in so doing you’d jog your memory.

Who was the 43rd US president?

If you didn’t immediately recall his name,

You might have recalled that the current one is often called “45” since

Many folks avoid calling his name.

You know Obama was before him, therefore he must’ve been number “44.”

You know Obama inherited a crap economy and several unjust wars,

Including the cultural war against Islam. And

That this was even one of the coded racial slurs used against him: “A Muslim.”

Putting these facts together,

You’d quickly arrive at Dubya! And

His whole warmongering cabinet. And

Condi Rice. And

General Powell’s botched PowerPoint presentation at the UN. And

Big dick Cheney, Halliburton and that fool shooting his friend while hunting.

That whole process might have taken a full minute,

But so would pulling up 43’s name on the Google.

This way, however, you haven’t lost the flow of conversation nor the productive energy produced between two people when they talk.

(It’s called ‘limbic resonance’, BTW).

Yeah, I used to be able to recall things…

Many more things about the world without my mobile phone.

Wonder.

Allow my mind to wander.

Entertain myself with my own thoughts.

Think.

Think new things.

Think differently just by thinking through a topic.

I used to know things.

Know answers that weren’t presented to me as search results.

I used to trust my own knowledge.

I used to be able to be present, enjoying my own company,

Appreciating the wisdom that comes with the mental downtime.

Never the fear of missing out,

Allowing myself time to reflect.

It is in reflection that wisdom is born.

Now, most of us just spend our time simply doing:

Surfing, scrolling, liking, dissing, posting, sharing and the like.

Even on a wondrous occasion, many of us would rather be on our phones.

Not just sharing the wonderful occasion –

Watching an insanely beautiful landscape through our tiny screens,

Phubbing the people we’re actually with,

Reducing a wondrous experience to a well-crafted selfie

But just making sure we’re not missing out on something rather mundane happening back home.

I used to could be in the world.

Now, I’m just in cyberspace.

I used to be wiser.

A Matter of Time

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Christmas was a rather sombre time in our household this year, my step dad died a few days before.  It wasn’t a surprise, he had been ill for some time, but it still felt like a huge shock.  Unlike the time when my dad died, some 12 years ago now, I didn’t have to deal with the all of the aftermath, my step brother did that and as a consequence, I was left with time to think and reflect.  The death of someone, particularly as we get older, reminds us of our own mortality. Phrases such as ‘time marches on’ simply remind us of the inevitable fact that our time is finite, unlike time itself, I’m not sure Stephen Hawking would agree with this (see below).  The hard part about someone dying is that they cannot give you any more of their time, just as you cannot give them any of yours.  It is this use of time that I want to reflect on using an eclectic mix of what may seem random ideas.

Coincidentally, I was given a book at Christmas authored by Stephen Hawking.  Most of you will be aware that he wrote A Brief History of Time: From the Big Bang to Black Holes (Hawking, 1995) and his latest book Brief Answers to the Big Questions (Hawking 2018) revisits some of the ideas.  I confess, I do not really understand some of the things he discusses although I do get the general idea. While reading, I started to think about how I would gain a better understanding of some of his key concepts. I decided two things were needed, time and effort. So, the question for me was, simply this, do I want to spend time and effort in gaining this understanding?  On reflection, it became rapidly apparent that to understand quantum physics, for example, I would need to start with some basics around mathematics and physics.  I think, given enough time and effort, I would be able to crack it.  But I must acknowledge that given other priorities, I simply do not have enough time to embark on this endeavour.  Consequently, I have to read, somewhat uncritically, Stephen’s ideas and accept them on face value.  This is not something that sits comfortably with me because I have always been a ‘I get it, but… person’.  I still want to know what was before the ‘big bang’, although Hawking (2018) says this is a pointless question.

Some time ago a colleague complimented another colleague’s writing.  It cannot be coincidence that the author of the eloquent piece has over many years, spent an inordinate amount of time reading academic literature.  So, time and effort spent doing something seems to produce rewards.

Whilst talking to another colleague, I described how I was renovating a house, much of the work I was doing myself. How did I know how to do all of this, he asked?  On reflection, it is through experience which, equates to time and effort put into finding out how to do things and then doing them.  That’s not to say that I can plumb a bathroom as quickly as a plumber or do the tiling in the same time as a professional tiler, or lay a floor as quick as someone that does it every day.  I have to spend more time thinking about what I want to do and thinking about how I’m going to do it.  I have to read and reread the instructions and research how to do certain things.  The more I practice, the better I get, the less effort required and perhaps the less time needed.  My dad always told me that a half a job is a double job, in other words, do it properly in the first place. The example of my colleague being able to write eloquently, suggests that time spent doing something might also produce better results as well as saving time and effort in the long run.

And so, I reflect on my time, which is finite, and marches on.  My time is valuable, just as your time is valuable.  I need to use my time wisely, so too should you. Giving people my time requires effort but as recent experience has demonstrated those that are close will not always be around to share time. Time and effort are required to achieve our goals, the more time we spend on something, accompanied by the requisite effort, the more likely we are to achieve what we want. Some things will take more time and effort but there is little that cannot be achieved. ‘Be brave, be curious, be determined, overcome the odds.  It can be done’ (Hawking, 2018: 22).

Hawking, S. (1995) A Brief History of Time: From the Big Bang to Black Holes, London: Bantam Books.

Hawking, S. (2018) Brief Answers to the Big Questions, London: John Murray.

Just Keep Swimming

Just keep swimming

This isn’t going to be the intellectual blog post I had expected myself to write. I am writing this as I am undertaking my post-grad dissertation and in all honesty, I can’t be bothered anymore. And I feel secure in the fact that I am not the only person who feels this and I most certainly will not be the last. Heck, I’ve been close to giving up altogether a handful of times throughout both my under and post-grad. I will be the first to admit that I don’t know how to leave work mode alone when I have deadlines due. And it is only through friends and family that I have to be reminded that all work and no play, doth not make for a mentally healthy Bronagh. I have always struggled separating the two and have been known to cancel or decline plans so I can do work; low and behold, I don’t write a word.

Be mindful of your mental health. You can’t work at it constantly. Between work and uni, you need to allow yourself those stress-free days off so you can produce the best work that you are capable of. I hate to harp on about the most obvious scenario. But as someone who felt bad for taking time off to have fun and as someone who is currently struggling for the motivation to complete this dissertation, just know that you are not alone. It is not uncommon to feel burnt out towards the end of your degree, be it 1 year, 3 years, or more. Just know that you have not come this far to fall at the final hurdle.

My biggest motivation was having friends going through the same situation. Meeting up to go the library so none of us bailed. Telling one another to “shut up, we need some quiet time”, putting headphones in so as not to get dragged into another one-hour chat about that dire television show we all watched the other night.  As with everything, it’s all about moderation. You are your own worst enemy, but it is you who will pull yourself out of your slump and show your self-doubt that you are both capable and worthy. This isn’t forever and you will relish those days where you have no deadlines to worry about, but trust me, you will also miss them. Do not let these tough times get the better of you and certainly do not let them put you off any possibilities of further education. The motivation will come and you will get there in the end. Carry on doing the things you enjoy and take everything in your stride.

Just keep swimming, you’ve got this.

Thank f**k it’s Christmas!

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Jessica is an Associate Lecturer teaching modules in the first year.

We have arrived at that time of the year once again: CHRISTMAS! ‘Tis’ the season to celebrate, party, give and receive gifts, catch up with friends and family, and most importantly… catch up on some much needed sleep. We have arrived at the end of the first term of the academic year, and all I can think is: Thank f**k it’s Christmas. The first term always feels the longest: whether you are first years beginning your academic journey, second and third years re-gathering yourselves after the long summer, or staff getting back into the swing of things and trying to locate and remember all the new and old names. But now is the time to kick back, relax and enjoy the festive season: ready to return to academic life fresh faced and eager come the New Year, ready to start it all over again. Well not quite…

According to Haar et al., (2014) work-life balance is something which is essential to all individuals, in order to ensure job satisfaction, life satisfaction and positive mental health. If Christmas is as needed as it feels; perhaps we are not managing a good work-life balance, and perhaps this is something we can use the Christmas break to re-consider. Work-life balance is subjective and relies on individual acceptance of the ‘balance’ between the commitments in our lives (Kossek et al., 2014). Therefore, over the Christmas break, perhaps it would be appropriate to re-address our time management skills, in order to ensure that Easter Break doesn’t feel as desperately needed as Christmas currently does.

Alongside an attempt to re-organise our time and work load, it is important that we remember to put ourselves first; whether this be through furthering our knowledge and understanding with our academic endeavours, or whether it is spending an extra 15 minutes a day with a novel in order to unwind. Work-life balance is something we are (potentially) all guilty of undermining, at the risk of our mental health (Carlson, et al., 2009). I am not suggesting that we all ignore our academic responsibilities and say ‘yes’ to every movie night, or night out that is offered our way. What I am suggesting, and the Christmas break seems like a good place to start, is that we put the effort in with ourselves to unwind, in order to ensure that we do not burn out.

Marking, reading, writing and planning all need to be done over the Christmas break; therefore it is illogical to suggest taking our feet off the pedals and leaving academia aside in order to have the well needed break we are craving. What I am suggesting, is that we put ourselves in neutral and coast through Christmas, without burning out: engaging with our assignments, marking and reading, therefore still moving forward. BUT, and it is a big but, we remember to breathe, have a lie in, go out and socialise with friends and family, and celebrate completing the first term of this academic year. And with this in mind, try to consider ways, come the new term, where you can maintain a satisfying work-life balance, so that when Easter comes, it doesn’t feel so desperately needed.

However, it is highly likely that this will still be the case: welcome to the joys and stresses of academia.
Merry Christmas everyone!

References:
Carlson, D.S., Grzywacz, J.G. and Zivnuska, S. (2009) ‘Is work family balance more than conflict and enrichment?’ Human Relations. 62(10): 1459-1486.
Haar, J.M., Russo, M., Sune, A. and Ollier- Malaterre, A. (2014) ‘Outcomes of work-life balance on job satisfaction, life satisfaction and mental health: A study across seven cultures’. Journal of Vocational Behaviour. 85: 361-373.
Kossek, E.E., Valcour, M. and Kirio, P. (2014) ‘The sustainable workforce: Organizational strategies for promoting work-life balance and well-being’. In: Cooper, C. and Chen, P. (Eds) Work and Well-being. Oxford: Wiley-Blackwell. Pp:295-318.

Bibliography:
Ashurst, A. (2014) ‘How to… Manage time and resources effectively’. Nursing and Residential Care. 16(5): 296-297.
Kuhnel, J., Zacher, H., De Bloom, J and Bledow, R. (2017) ‘Take a Break! Benefits of sleep and short breaks for daily work engagement’. European Journal of Work and Organization Psychology. 26(4): 481-491.
Logan, J., Hughes, T. and Logan, B. (2016) ‘Overworked? An Observation of the relationship Between Student Employment and Academic Performance’. Journal of College Student Retention: Research, Theory and Practice. 18(3): 250-262.
Lyness, K.S. and Judiesch, M.K. (2014) ‘Gender egalitarianism and work-life balance for managers: Multisource perspectives in 36 countries’. Applied Psychology. 63(1): 96-129.
Mona, S. (2017) ‘Work-life Balance: Slow down, move and think’. Journal of Psychological Nursing and Mental Health Services. 55(3):13-14.

 

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