What Being An Unemployed Graduate Has Taught Me About Healthcare

You know how often times blogs will preface an entry with a “Warning: Spoilers Ahead!” label if they’re going to give away parts of a TV show or something?  Well, I feel as if I should begin this post with a “Warning: I Was Spoiled and Now I’m Not and That Makes Me Bitter” label.  Consider yourself warned.

Being an unemployed graduate has taught me (more like forced me to learn at times) a lot about a plethora of things pertaining to surviving on a day-to-day basis.  Two days ago I completely scratched up the side of my car while attempting to navigate my landlord’s dumbly designed driveway as I was trying to leave for work.  That little incident forced me to look into the subject of automobile body work, a subject I know nothing about.  Another life matter that I have had to get hip to as of late is health insurance.

When I first graduated  I was on a private COBRA plan in Connecticut that was insanely expensive.  Like one month’s rent expensive.  So with the help of my mom I switched to a Massachusetts plan- a cheap one.  The cheapest non-subsidized (Non-subsidized means I pay totally out of pocket, the government isn’t helping me at all) plan I could find in fact.  And it seemed okay at first- I went to a doctor who was covered by the plan, she seemed nice enough,  she renewed my prescriptions, and I left without a co-pay.  Nice no?  Well, fast-forward to when I want, no wait- NEED, my prescriptions, and a pharmacy worker at CVS tells me that neither prescription is covered.

 “Okay” I say, “Well I’ll just pay out of pocket.  How much?”  (Yeah right I’ll pay out of pocket.  Little did I know..)  The lady then tells me, “Okay, $250 for one and $100 for the other.”  Say what!?  That’s $350 a month!  That’s a lot of money to keep my bronchioles’ chronic inflammation at bay (I have asthma and need a special inhaler that squirts steroids into me each day.  I better not try to become an Olympic athlete or anything.)  Needless to say, I couldn’t pay that and the day I find I can pay that amount for a little inhaler I’ll be sitting pretty.  Or I’ll be desperate.  (Though the new “covered” inhaler I got is Bates colors- garnet and grey.  I say “covered” because it still cost me $100, which is why I’m searching for a new plan).  But anyway, yes, I needed a new plan and I needed it right then.

So, my liberal arts research skills kicked in and I went online to surf the web for a less expensive way to stay “healthy”.  I came across a subsidized plan for which I could be eligible through Massachusetts.  So I filled out that application and had all the materials required for each section EXCEPT the employment section.  Of course it’s the employment section that gives me grief, it always is. 

Anyway, because I am technically working, though it’s temporary, I had to fill out the employment section which required copies of two of my most recent pay stubs to prove to the Commonwealth of Massachusetts that I am below the poverty line.  Unfortunately, I don’t even have all the documents I need to prove I have no money.  Get this- you need PAYSTUBS to prove you have no money.  How does that work!?  Well anyway, I had to type up a little note explaining my predicament.  Then I decided I would be better off giving someone a call- the Commonwealth Care help line probably could help me.  So I call.  And a very mumbly man picks up and seems disgruntled that I have a question.  And he says he can’t help me (though the website says he can and I’m a product of the 21^st century so what the interweb says, goes) and that he’s going to transfer me.  And then he just leaves me on hold!  He doesn’t even have the courtesy to hang up on me- I would have rather had him do that so I wouldn’t have stayed on the line for 6 unnecessary minutes.  

So, I sigh and call back, making sure to press a difference sequence of numbers just so I don’t end up with the Health Plan Scrooge again.  This time I reach a kind man who basically tells me to do everything I had already done- write a little note to the healthcare Gods explaining my bizarre employment predicament.  So I included my little letter, sent off the application, and we’ll see what happens.  I hope I get this new coverage because my prescriptions will be oh-so-much-more affordable (I think).

But, moral of this story, there are two: 1) Don’t always go for the cheap.  Sometimes the cheap gives you your inhaler for the price of two cashmere cardigans.  And don’t always trust the people who should know this information (like doctors) to actually know it or actually care.  You’ve got to be on top of things in the post-graduate world.  I find that many people don’t like to help me out or make things easy for me unless it’s my parents because they love me or Jordan because he loves me and I cook the dinners.  2) Educate yourself.  I know health insurance and health plans have been all over the news lately and one can get sick of hearing about it.  However, it is a big deal.  And listening to NPR passively while you’re cleaning the bathroom doesn’t automatically mean you understand the workings of health insurance plans.  Trust me, I know.

So, to help you out I’ve compiled a few resources that offer the basics of health insurance.  They’ll help you understand a little of the jargon and might make you feel a little more calm with your impending entrance into the real world where medicine seems to be REAL hard to get.

What President Obama has to say about all this: http://www.barackobama.com/issues/healthcare/

A useful glossary of terms courtesy of Alabama’s Department of Insurance: http://www.aldoi.gov/Consumers/HealthInsExplain.aspx

And of course, what list of links could be complete without Wikipedia: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Health_benefits

Shhhh,

Steph

Revamping the Resume- A Guide

Recently I made the decision that I needed to revamp my resume after reading the advice provided by a few blogs and career books.  Apparently, my resume wasn’t doing enough bragging.  I read that recruiters usually only take about 10 seconds to look at a resume and if they don’t see anything that catches their eye in those 10 measly seconds, they move on.  Ten seconds.  That’s not a long time at all.  It sometimes takes ten seconds for my eyes to focus.

After learning that morsel of information I figured that if I only have 10 seconds to impress the people reading my resume, then I better change the document a bit.  I by a bit I mean rewrite the whole thing.  I didn’t want anyone spending their 10 seconds looking at the fact that I greeted visitors when I was a receptionist.  I mean, that’s what receptionists do- greeting visitors is pretty much implicit in the title of receptionist.  If you’re a receptionist, you greet people.  Therefore the greeting section (among others) had to go.

Basically the rule of thumb I used for my resume revamping was this: don’t list your duties, but highlight your accomplishments.  Now, it is extremely difficult to actually successfully do this on a resume for a few reasons.  1) You may not think the work you’ve done is quantifiable.  Well, it is.  You just have to think creatively.  For example, when I began fundraising for the March of Dimes in 2000, I started with a list of about 100 donor prospects.  Most of them ended up giving money.  In my eight years fundraising for the MoD, I managed to retain about 80 of the original donors.  That’s an 80% donor retention rate.  There, I quantified my fundriaising work.  2) You can’t think of any ways in which you have excelled at the work you’ve done.  You never accomplished anything at that summer waitressing gig during your junior year.  Well, chances are you did excel in certain positions- you just have to discover where.  I realized that when I was a receptionist for a law office over the summer of my sophomore year (yes, greeting visitors and answering phones),  my employer asked me to come back to continue to work during school breaks.  This was an accomplishment.  I had done a good enough job as receptionist at the office that they wanted me to continue when I had free time.  That shows that I did my work as receptionist effectively.  So that is what I put on my resume rather than “answered phones and greeted visitors.”  It sounds a lot more attractive doesn’t it?

I think what can be so difficult about the whole application process for a college student is that a job application isn’t a class assignment.  The cover letter isn’t a paper on Nietzsche’s concept of the herd mentality and it certainly shouldn’t be written that way.  You are selling yourself in an application but in a different way than you sell your point in humanities papers.  Your resume and cover letter are documents meant to facilitate the sale not of your idea but of yourself, to others.  Resumes are meant to emphasize the main points, cover letters meant to connect how these main points make you the best candidate for a position, and both documents should leave the employer wanting to know more.

My resumes and cover letters were not doing this.  My cover letters tend to be long- way too long.  It is the case that the shorter something is, the more likely someone is to read it all and really pay attention to it.  This is especially true in today’s job market where companies and organizations are receiving hundreds of applications for any given position.  They don’t want to read a lot nor do they want to see a lot of dense text.  This is why many career coaches recommend bullet points in your cover letters and keeping both the resume and cover letter short-and-sweet.  I haven’t tried the bullet approach yet- I’m still trying to cut the length of my cover letters in half- but it makes a lot of sense.  Give the employer the information s/he wants to know and make it easy for them.  They’ll like you for that and perhaps you’ll reap the benefits later.

Just remember the bottom line for resume revamping- resumes should list your greatest accomplishments, not your duties, and these accomplishments should be in plain sight.  Make each line fantastic and meaningful.  Nothing should be mediocre because you’re not.  And because that one mediocre line may be what the recruiter reads in their 10 seconds of scanning.

Don’t be afraid to brag, put this stuff out there for all to see.  You’re selling yourself remember?  And no one sells a product well if they don’t believe in it.  Yes, I know I sound like a Disney movie but you must believe in yourself.  Creating great job application materials isn’t easy, it takes a lot of work and numerous revisions but it’s totally worth it.  I mean, the whole point of all this is to get a job no?  Unless you’re a masochist with a trust fund.

Anyway, I would recommend taking your resume (if it exists, and if doesn’t, make one now because there is no decent reason to put this task off) and looking it over.  Remove all the duty jargon, get rid of complete sentences and erroneous words, and begin promoting yourself.  If you’re a Bates student, take your resume to OCS and have someone there look it over for you.  Scan the internet for ideas on how to say certain things in resume speak.  Write it, return to it and change it, and then return to it and change in some more.  Chances are your resume will be unlike anything you’ve ever written before.   And that’s a sign that you’re doing it right.

Shhhh,

Steph

Paper-cuts Are Not a Skill But Working a Job You Hate Is

I cannot stress enough how every job matters.  I type this statement earnestly with my left finger aching with each touch of my laptop keys.  I washed my hair tonight using only three fingers on each hand.  Last night I nearly cried as I put lotion on my face.  I have about 7-10 paper-cuts on each hand, some worse than others and they are seriously impeding on my life.

I have a new temp job that should last me about 2-3 weeks.  I’m working at a local bank’s sales office outside of Boston.  A lot of my work involves paper.  In this position I’m a rookie loan processor of sorts- I print, put together, and manage the loan files for what seems like 1,000 people.  I fax insurance companies, call businesses for employment verifications, and manage a reception area that almost no one ever enters except the people who work in the office.  However, I do have my own desk, my own computer, and get this- I have my own system login and my own company email address (Microsoft Outlook is so awesome by the way- I love how the emails just pop up).

My day is long- I work from 9 to 6 with a 30 minute lunch break that I spend at my desk looking at Twitter and typing with one hand while I hold food in the other.  But the people are incredibly kind and this job gets me out of the house and will (hopefully) give me some money, which I desperately need because my insurance sucks and I’m fragile and have an inhaler that is not covered by my new insurance and has no generic alternative.  But that’s an issue for my next blog post- I’ll let you know all I’ve learned over the past month about healthcare.  I’ve gone from someone who passively ripped open the packages of mail-order scripts I would receive every three months without thinking from where they came, how much they were costing, and who in God’s name even ordered them for me (thanks mom).  Sad no?  Just wait until you don’t have your little college health center to run to- I had to find out through a conversation on a bus that I was a prime candidate for the H1-N1 vaccine (which can’t seem to be found in MA) because I’m young and asthmatic.  And my boyfriend works at a high school.  A boarding school no less.  I wish they made Purell chapstick.

Anyway, due to my aching fingers and the fact that I don’t really understand the process of which I am a part as a loan processor, this gig isn’t really the office setting in which I see myself long-term.  And I very well could write this experience off as just a quick moneymaker.  But I’m not going to and instead, I’m going to pay meticulous attention to the tasks I perform and the software I’m learning and using each day.  Why?  Because the tasks and system management skills I’m picking up each day at the bank are useful- they make me a more skilled person and therefore, a more skilled job candidate.

Penelope Trunk, an entrepreneur and blogger who I very much admire, has a lot to say about the work world, discussing the nuances of promoting oneself and building a career.  One post of hers is about taking her brother’s lackluster position at Blockbuster (Everyone I’ve ever known who has worked at Blockbuster has left their job with a deep-seeded hate for everything Blockbuster-related.  And the men leave with long scraggly beards; I don’t know what that means…) by changing the language in which she spoke about his everyday tasks such as managing the register or stocking the shelves.  What I’m trying to say using my hero Penelope is that all work experience is important.  (I’m also hoping that somehow she’ll notice that I tagged her in this blog post and she’ll begin following me on Twitter!)  Heck we learn things every day so we’ve got to learn something in a work environment- even if it’s only how to deal with obnoxious customers who return to your sad, sad store to complain that their rented copy of Kindergarten Cop was scratched and wouldn’t play (When I pay 5 dollars for something I want it to play, is that so much to ask?).

So the moral of this blog post is to pay attention to what you’re doing, when you’re doing it, and where.  Always.  Make sure you leave an internship, a summer job, or yes, a temp job- with a clear idea of the tasks you performed, the abilities you utilized, and the skills you gained.  Unfortunately, paper-cuts don’t count as a skill otherwise I’d be golden.

Shhhh,

Steph

I’m So Nostalgic I Think I May Perish

Oh. My. God.  So I was cruising my beloved alma mater’s website and what do I come across?  A link advertising an unexpected dance party at Bates.  So of course I decided to watch it.  After calling Jordan three times to come in because “he’s gotta see this!” and receiving no response, I just decided to watch it on my own.  It was only two minutes.  If Jordan had fallen down somewhere in the apartment and that was why he wasn’t answering, two extra minutes of lying there wouldn’t have really hurt him I was sure of it.

So I pressed the familiar triangle to play this Youtube clip and the first thing I saw was a panoramic shot of Commons (our dining hall) from the upper balcony section.  When the New Commons was first constructed we had all been sure that the balcony would be the new “cool” place to sit.  I was super excited for it because I realized I could peek over the banister and see all the tables below me without anyone really seeing me.  This balcony would facilitate my stealthiness to the max.

Imagine my surprise when it turned out that no one wanted to sit up there.  I mean,  not even me.  It was so far away from everything- you’ve already walked to the dining hall for your food, you don’t want to be scaling stairs numerous times at each meal.  And I would because when I ate in Commons I got up an average of three times each meal- minimum.  That’s tackling those stairs three times.  Also, people sometimes trip on them and their food goes everywhere and everyone in Commons lets out a collective “Ooooooooooooooo.”  You know what I’m talking about.  The utterance with the cascading pitch- the “Yikes, that’s awful. Glad it’s not me,” type of reaction.  I thankfully never fell but I saw a couple of bad ones.  Be careful Batesies- those stairs really are unforgivable.

But anyway, the video shows students doing their thing- eating, chatting, and walking around.  Suddenly, the air is filled with a beat and people jump up on tables and start doing a choreographed dance!  My jaw fell open.  Mind you I’m sitting on my couch in my pajamas with a bit of a headache because it’s 2:30 pm and I’ve had only had three cups of coffee as my liquid that day.  But I watched this and forgot about the ache in my head.  Instead I felt a deep ache in my chest.  I know it’s corny but it’s so true!  I wanted to be back there so badly at that moment.  I wanted people to make me delicious food, I wanted to put my plates on a moving plate-carrier thing and then just walk away.  But no, I have to cook and I have to clean and I can’t just talk about my classes at dinner because I have no classes!  It really is sad.  And I haven’t really felt a longing to go back there since I graduated- I definitely mostly find myself feeling happy to have moved on.  But man, my life there with Commons was pretty swell.

For example, Jordan and I went out to dinner last night.  I ordered something with which I wasn’t super happy.  But I couldn’t return it or get something new or switch with Jordan because I had one chance to get it right and I failed.  And furthermore, no one in the restaurant busted a move, nor do I think they would be okay with something busting a mood.  It was Korean BBQ- someone could have fallen on one of the hot tables and really hurt themselves I guess.

But bottom line: Sad.  Lackluster.  That’s sometimes how I feel about my existence when I realize life isn’t like a musical.  And the closest you’ll get to that life is in college.  Especially if you go to Bates.

Shhhh,

Steph

Autumn Hiking For Novices

Jordan had a couple of days off this past week so I took advantage of his GPS and his presence and planned a hiking trip.  Now a hiking trip is something I have been wanting to do for weeks.  I figured that it’s peak leaf season these days, we’re in New England, and the wilderness is just a short drive away so why not?

We ended up going to Blue Hills in Milton, MA for our hiking excursion.  I had just gotten new hiking shoes so I decided to go all out fashion-wise for this trip.  I donned a wool flannel shirt, a reversible jacket, and a pair of cut-off hiking pants that I had procured during my hippy-dippy phase in high school.  Yes, I had a hippy phase.  You know most high schoolers end up having a phase be it a goth phase, a rocker phase, a weird theater kid phase where you dyed your hair a funny color and ate lunch on the floor of the theater hallway.  Anyone?  Well I did not eat lunch on the floor  nor did I have asymmetrical bangs- but I did have a Grateful Dead sticker on my car and wore Birkenstock sandals with socks.  I cringe when I look back on that time- the equivalent cringe as moms of the baby-boomer generation cringing when they look at photos from the 80s.  But my high school phase provided me with some good times- and hiking and camping experience.  Those three day Phish concerts to which I went?  I slept in a tent.  I made grilled cheese on a camp stove.  Unfortunately, none of this experience seemed to stick leaving me drastically unqualified to lead any type of excursion beyond a basic walk.

When I told my Dad we were going hiking, he got very excited and had lots of advice and stories to share.  (He’s actually out in New Mexico with my mother right now, camping and hiking and living off the land and such)  “Oh you should go here and camp over night!” he told me.  Uhhh, no.  Not a good idea.  If Jordan and I can’t even find our way to Chinatown with a GPS and an Iphone then we certainly would not be able to walk somewhere and set up camp.  We don’t even have sleeping bags.  When I pointed this fact out to my dad he seemed to understand, remembering that this was not the 70s and Jordan and I are nothing like him and his college girlfriend- we sit around and scoff at MTV and talk about how hiking is for white people.  We don’t scale mountains and then sleep there!

In preparation for our  journey, Jordan, who is even more of a novice hiker than me, asked me what shoes to wear.  We chose his pair of Timberland boots in a joint decision.  Our hiking “pack” was Jordan’s bike messenger bag.  It worked well.  I packed bottles of water and made our hiking “picnic” which consisted of two drastically different peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.  Jordan’s was on wheat bread with JIF peanut butter and Smuckers jam.  In retrospect, I realize I went a little JIF crazy.  It’s just that the fakeness of that particular nut butter makes it so fun to spread!  I realize how not-fun it was for Jordan to eat however, because when he ate he nearly choked twice and could barely hold a conversation.  My sandwich was on sprouted bread (yes we have his and her bread) with natural peanut butter and apple butter.  It was easier for me to eat as this nut butter was really clumpy and I eventually gave up trying to spread it, wondering if mass amounts of sugar make peanut butter easier to manage.

Anyway, we had some interesting conversations as we scaled rocks and tramped along the pine needle covered ground.  We talked about how hiking is very classed and raced.  You would think that all it takes is going outside and into the woods right?  Well have you ever been to Eastern Mountain Sports?  That stuff designated for hiking is super expensive!  And forget camping- that’s another story.  And getting there- a whole other story as unfortunately, public transportation rarely takes you off the grid.

Also, have you ever considered “Hi” culture?  It’s very interesting.  There are certain activities that I engage in with my family that encompass this “Hi” culture.  Boating is once example, hiking is another.  When you pass someone, a comrade on your same mission to ride the high seas or explore the wilderness, you wave and give a cheery “Hi!”  You always say hi, it’s weird and rude not to do so, and a little perky wave makes you extra authentic.  Now let’s go to a major city like New York.  There is not a “Hi” culture there.  There is not even a “I’m going to look in your general direction” culture.  Very interesting.  So I was chirping “hi” each and every way- it’s in my blood don’t forget.  I even got Jordan on the boat.  “Howdy” he’d say in a low and controlled voice.  It was no “Hi!” but it was something.

When we reached “the top” of the hill we climbed we had our PB overload lunch and looked at all the people around us.  There were a lot of families with small children who had taken a different way to the top.  I thought of a great commercial to encourage young adults to wait to have children.  “You think you want a kid?  Think about having to totally change the route of your Saturday hiking trip.”  “You think you want a kid?  You won’t be able to spend 50 minutes in your favorite store again.”  Things like that.  Having a kid totally changes everything!  Things you don’t even think about, like the route you take to get to the top of a hill, need to be considered if you’re bringing a little tot along.  As a parent there is no more winging it when it comes to most things, especially hiking.  Unless you’re my dad.

Ah, my dad.  During the trip Jordan commented on my uncanny hiking abilities.  “Your father trained you well,” he said.  It’s true!  I was cruising.  Maybe I’m not such a novice.  Every once and a while I would turn around and bark at Jordan “Take your hands out of your pockets!  What are you going to do if you trip!?  You’re going to break your face!”  I was a pro in leading my trusting crew (of one) to victory over this Massachusetts hill.  I felt good.

However, when we decided to be super productive and go to the supermarket after the hike I did not feel good.  We were both exhausted and we barely made it through the store to collect all we needed.  I had a crumpled list in my hand and we both dejectedly walked through the isles in our plaid shirts and hats.  This store trip was an example of when choices are constraining- we stood in front of numerous products, trying to get our brains to register which beans would be best to buy.  I was too tired to even take a peek at the natural foods section.  I just wanted to go home and watch a movie.

Here are some photos from the hike:

This was the beginning of the hike. We hadn’t walked anywhere yet.

Hiking love

I came, I saw, I conquered.

All-in-all I’d say our hiking experience was perfect.  Jordan and I both agreed however, that we wish we had done more Outing Club activities while we were at Bates.  But we never did for one reason or another.  I think he felt like he didn’t know hiking well enough to go and I think I was just lazy.  But a day hike on a fall weekend would have been beautiful up there.  So would a trip to Acadia.  If you’re still at Bates/ will be going there soon, I urge you to take the chance and let an outdoors-y Batesie lead you on a hike or an overnight camping trip before it gets too cold to do anything except whimper as you walk/run to class.  Really, it’s totally worth it.  Just don’t go grocery shopping afterward.  And don’t use too much peanut butter.

Shhhh,

Steph

Talking to Tom Ashbrook on NPR

My dream come true!

So, we all know that I listen to NPR all the time.  All the time.  And this morning, the second hour of “On Point with Tom Ashbrook” was about me!  The show was titled “Jobs and the Class of ‘09”.  That’s pretty much me no?  Since Jordan has the day off, he was in the study grading papers so I called him out to hear the piece which began with Tom saying “The class of ’09 rocks, the economy does not.”

Okay… a little silly but okay.  My class did rock and the economy doesn’t rock- it makes sense.  There were three 2009 graduates being interviewed, one was from Colby.  “Represent Maine!” Jordan and I yelled as we heard this information.  I raised my arms with elation in the air and Jordan did that stupid snap thing that guys do when they’re trying to pack their container of chewing tobacco.  (Side note: If I could ban things- that gesture would be in my top five things to ban right away along with people who don’t use their blinkers properly when driving).  That’s the thing about Bates- I get excited every time someone even mentions Maine in general.  You just come to love Maine.

But anyway, as we settled down to listen, Tom Ashbrook urged 2009 graduates to call in and share their experiences about post-graduate life and the job search.  I started at my cell phone.  “I’m going to do it,” I said resolutely.  “I’m going to call and tell them all about my blog” and I picked up the phone.  Jordan’s eyes widened.  “Yeah, do it!” he said.  “That’s a great idea!”

The first time I dialed it was busy.  “Damn you class of 2009!” I wailed.  Didn’t the USA understand how much I deserved this?  “Everyone’s unemployed so they’re sitting at home on a Monday afternoon listening to NPR,” Jordan pointed out.  Good point.  ON POINT, one might say.  I called again.  And again.  Still busy.  But I refused to give up the dream, just like I refuse to give up the job search.  Finally, it rang!  I almost hyperventilated, signaling wildly at Jordan trying to say, “Holy crap it’s ringing, I feel like I just won the lottery!  Go away and leave me to my dreams!”

A lady picked up and asked my name, where I was from, and what my question/comment was.  I bumbled a bit and talked about graduating from Bate, writing a blog, and networking- it was all a blur.  Eventually she cut me off and said “Okay, we’re putting you through.  You can say hi to Tom but don’t say good morning because the show airs in the evenings in some places.”  “I know,” I wanted to say.  “I know because I listen to NPR all day long and notice that your repeat shows.”   But I didn’t because I thought that would be creepy/snarky and I didn’t want to lose the chance of a lifetime.  I ran into the other room, violently gesturing Jordan away.  I didn’t want him staring at me as I talked to Tom Ashbrook!

I sat on our futon listening to the radio program via phone while Jordan was listening quietly to the radio in the next room.  He ran in at one point waving his arms in the air mouthing, “Don’t forget to mention your blog!”  “I won’t!” I mouthed back as I furiously began scribbling notes onto an old grocery list.  Graduated ’09, no job, blog for Bates as graduate, networking important, puts face to application- little notes like that.  And then he said it “And now we’re going to Stephanie in Watertown, MA.  Hi Stephanie.”  (Gasp) “Hi Tom!”  And then I don’t know what happened.  It was all a blur.  But I finished and ran back into the kitchen where Jordan was standing by the radio.  I caught the last sound bites of my speech.  I had done it!  I had called in to NPR.  I can die happy.

Here’s the link to the show- it’s quite an interesting topic, you should definitely listen to the whole thing.  And I’m not just saying that now that I’m famous.

What the show helped me realize is that a lot of ’09 grads are in my same position.  Heck, a lot of Americans are in my same position.  At least I wasn’t like Daniel, walking 45 minutes to the train so I could go into Chicago and visit 40 places a day trying to speak to someone.  Daniel, that doesn’t seem like the best use of your time.  And Laura, either move to a crappy apartment in Brooklyn and continue your job or find something new- you’re commute is insane!  And Samantha, you eloquent Colby grad, you, you’re doing better than Dan and Laura but girl, I feel you.  I feel all of you.  You should check out this blog to get some inspiration.  Just a thought because apparently, as Tom Ashbrook showed us today, we’re in the same boat.

Shhhh,

Steph

The Politics of Food

Has anyone noticed how politicized food has become these days?  With all the talk of healthcare reform, poverty, and the American diet, questions surrounding food production, distribution, and consumption have become a daily topic of conversation in the mass media.  As I go about my day-to-day activities- calling Bates alumni/ae, applying to jobs, and obsessively cleaning- all these conversations about food have captured my attention.  In fact, the other weekend Jordan and I were trying to get to Chinatown to meet up with friends and we got lost.  I think we were in Roxbury, driving through low-income neighborhoods where the newest and best looking buildings were McDonald’s and Burger King.  After driving for 20 minutes we came across a Shaws right before we crossed into a bougier section of Boston.  “This is the first chain super market I’ve seen in the 30 minutes we’ve been driving!” I exclaimed.  “That’s a good point” Jordan noted (always so supportive of my random sociological observations).  This was something I couldn’t believe- it really was true.  There are places in US (many are in big US cities- currently Detroit has no chain grocery stores in the city and there are nearly 1 million people living there) that are densely populated and have no supermarket- only neighborhood bodegas.  Now, some bodegas offer fresh produce and healthy dairy options but I encourage you to think about the Snack Marts you’ve encountered in your time.  Are you finding whole wheat bread and fresh vegetables there?  No, you’re lucky if you find an old bag of carrots to go with the Cheetos and Orbit you just purchased.

After having this concrete realization I am more glad than ever that conversations about food and its intersection with gender, race, and class are finally gaining visibility as many Americans have been obsessed with food and how what they consume reflects on their identities for a long time.  (Mind you this does seem to be a very classed issue- for many people, worrying about food choices reflects their privilege- many people don’t have much choice when it comes to food at all.  Check out this blog post on Postbougie that discusses the dearth of grocery stores and therefore access to healthy, fresh food in urban areas).  Unfortunately, a lot of these conversations never considered food to be political, which oh baby, it is.  But for those of us who have questioned food in the past and continue to think about it today- I believe the US conversation about food and eating is shifting.

A few years ago I would say that discussions of food were highly linked to concerns about the environment.  Organic food, pesticide use, and buying locally were all topics that comprised the food debate.  Now however, I would say that our discussions of food have moved from dualistic questions of organic/not organic, environmentally friendly/not environmentally friendly, and have become a lot more complicated.  No more black and white, welcome to the gray people- frustrating I know, confusing yes, but most issues are way too juicy to be squeezed into any simple category or to have one “right” answer.  Food and its consumption are examples of this.

Now the issue of food and healthy eating has been framed in numerous ways and when one considers all these frames together- one can get a bit of a better view of just how complicated the politics of food can be.  Some frame it as an issue of personal responsibility, stating that people need to take charge of their health and start making better food choices.  Some frame it as an issue of access (the Postbougie blog post is an example of this framing), claiming that before one can make “healthy” choices, one needs access to stores that make these choices a possibility, both in terms of availability (there are skim milk and fresh carrots in the store) and affordability (these products can be purchased for relatively little cost).  Some frame it as a legislative issue and discuss whether the government should get involved- providing incentives for healthy eating, creating taxes on unhealthy food items such as soda, or even fining those who have bodies that don’t fit a standard of “health”.  Some also argue that the food products subsidized by the government- like corn for a big example (we’ve all heard about high fructose corn syrup, or various meats- are more available, cheaper, and unfortunately, not the healthiest.  And please keep in mind- these are just some of the ways food and eating are discussed these days- there are infinitely more ways that this issue is framed by different people concerned about different things.

Now this is confusing.  How are we to navigate these questions to formulate our own personal views on food and its consumption?  I mean, who is to be held accountable, what steps need to be taken to make America a healthier nation when it comes to eating?  Unfortunately, there is not one answer (bless the gray).  What I am doing myself is looking at all the different discussions out there right now concerning this topic.  They all, no matter how ridiculous or over-the-top they may be, provide a little information about the numerous factors that influence food and eating in the USA.  There is a ton of media coverage on the topic, blogs address food issues constantly, and online discussion forums are even taking a stab at trying to figure things out.  I think that the most important thing one can do however, is to remember that food is political.  This is an issue that goes beyond the individual and concerns systems of oppression and US institutions.  And of course, the individual is implicated in all this but unfortunately the issue of food is not comprised of any clear or easy answers.  But that’s what makes it interesting no?  Gray’s my favorite color.

Shhhh,

Steph

Let’s Talk About Heat, Baby.

I’ve always been told that one is not supposed to work where one sleeps but in this instance it couldn’t be helped.  I had a poor night’s sleep last night and woke up early today for a meeting so when I returned home this afternoon, tired and dreading working on the job search, I decided to cut myself some slack and climbed into bed for a short nap.  However, before I actually shut my eyes, I turned on the space heater Jordan and I had brought up from the basement a couple of days ago.  Now, I love this thing for so many reasons.  My number one reason: it is turning on the heat without turning on the heat.  It heats up our little bedroom so efficiently that when Jordan returned from dorm duty late the other night and came in to let me know he made it home- I was drenched in sweat.  Like chest dripping, I may have H1-N1 sweaty.  “You’re covered in sweat!” he exclaimed (I suspect just the teeniest bit disgusted).  “Well, yeah,” was my reply.  I mean, what do you say to a comment like that when you clearly are drenched in sweat?  I told him to turn on the fan.

But what’s really so great about the space heater is that for some reason (warning: there is no logic behind this feeling at all) I feel that the longer I can postpone turning on our actual heat- the longer I will stay financially viable as an unemployed Bostonian in this economic climate.  It’s a game.  Actually, in the mornings (and no one knows this- this is top secret insight into my private life) I always do yoga and during the summer I would turn on the ceiling fan while doing my down-ward dogs because I would get hot.  The past two mornings however, I have gone into our frigid living room wearing a spandex bodysuit and in an attempt to stay warm have (gasp!) turned on the heat.  Both mornings as I have done so I tell myself “I’m just checking to see if it works because if it doesn’t we need to get it fixed now before it gets much colder.”  Let me tell you, it works.  And as I’m sitting doing my warm-up breath exercises, I hear the radiators clinking and the steam hissing and it’s all too much for me.  I pause the DVD after maybe three minutes of having the heat on to shut it off quickly, pretending the whole incident didn’t happen.  Really, it’s bizarre.

Sometimes I wonder what makes me so nervous about turning on the heat.  When I lived off-campus at Bates, the heat was included in our rent, which I always emphatically declared as good because “There is no way I will tolerate being cold in my own house!”  What happened to this mindset?  I guess it dissolved when my share of the rent doubled and heat was no longer included and I noticed a few holes in the floor that let me peek into the basement.  For some reason I feel like turning on the heat will eat a hole in my pockets- pockets that are shallow already to say the least.  So my trusty little space heater keeps my bedroom warm at night and right now that’s what matters.  Until I find myself surfing the internet and writing this blog post in bed in a winter scarf with a Snuggie wrapped around my shoulders.  Yes, I own a Snuggie- I received it from Jordan as a present.  He said the commercials indicated that white people and old people love it.  It’s true, watch any Snuggie commercial and you see a wonderful, white, nuclear family gathered around playing cards or a granny knitting on the couch.  “I saw the old lady knitting and thought of you,” he said.  I mean, I knit, and I’m white, and I’ll be an old lady some day, but really?  He saw an old lady knitting on a commercial for a “Made For TV Product” and he thought of me?  Oh well, I can’t complain as the Snuggie is warm.  And it makes me look like a wizard when I wear it because mine is royal blue and has wide, flowing arms.  Great for knitting as a granny, not so great for making a peanut butter sandwich at midnight.  I had to have Jordan hold my sleeves.

I’ve come to realize that I cannot live out the entire winter like this- I either need to get a job so I don’t have to be home all the time or win the lottery so I can pay for a heated life of luxury.  But as sit on my bed in my grossly overheated bedroom where I just woke up from a nap and I’m complaining, I think about what I see every time I venture outside my house and into Boston.  I see tons of people without homes.  Forget heat, these are people that don’t have any shelter at all, they don’t have any rooms to be cold.

Homelessness is a huge issue internationally and locally here in Boston where I find it a very visible issue.  So visible in fact, that one can become numb to the problem.  I hurry from meeting to meeting, place to place, and I notice that people are asking me for spare change or are gathered under an awning somewhere in the city but the thing is- I don’t really see.  I rarely stop and think about these people’s situations and what being without a home must mean to them/for them.  Here is an article written in 2008 about homelessness in the Boston area that highlights some of what the state has been trying to do to address the issue.

I guess what this issue makes me think about is what I can do as someone who has the privilege of a living space.  Though I don’t have a lot of money, I have a lot of time (which some might argue is money) and I believe time is precious.  I urge you all to do what I’m going to do- get off your warm behind and make one move that not only acknowledges that homelessness is an issue but that takes a step towards bettering the experience of someone who finds themselves in this situation.  I will let you decide the best action to take- some don’t feel comfortable with, or aren’t able to, give money to everyone who asks them each day.  And really this isn’t addressing the core issues of homelessness at all.  What makes the situation more digestible for me is thinking about how you can institutionally affect change.

First off, we cannot let these people become invisible.  Poverty has a way of swallowing people and families whole and can engender feelings of being less-than-human.  It’s like being on a New York subway at rush hour and you just want to scream because you feel nobody sees you, sees your delicate feet, or sees your personal space.  I try to think about this as I go about my daily routine.  A good friend of mine did a lot of work with homeless populations in high school and she always used to tell me that she discovered after speaking with them that “the worst part for many of them is that they’re not acknowledged.”  For many people without homes (though not all) their situation is not ideal and can cause a lot of shame.  A general acknowledgement of their presence can go a long way- though I warn you, I have experienced people asking me for money and when I reply “No I’m sorry sir/mam” and give a timid smile I get a snarky comment in reply about how they want money and not a smile.  But this doesn’t happen all the time, and I’d rather acknowledge them and be shot down than not acknowledge at all.

Secondly, get involved.  When I was practicing and working in the kitchen at a zen center, we bagged all of our viable leftover food and brought it to homeless shelters.  Think about dropping off the clothes you want to get rid of at a homeless shelter rather than Goodwill or keeping them in your basement for years.  Think about getting rid of your hotel soap collection by donating it to a homeless shelter.  Think about volunteering one night a week at a soup kitchen to help prepare and serve the nightly meal.  Now these months coming up are important times to get involved and consider the issue of homelessness because the weather is not forgiving.  It really isn’t that difficult to loose your home.  I hear about it on the radio every day.  Think about it- I certainly am.  Considering the issue of homelessness has not only changed the way I view the city landscape but has changed the way I view my own existence.  Yes, I’m cold doing yoga in my living room in the morning but that’s just it- I’m cold doing yoga in my living room.  That means I have a living room, that means I have the leisure time to do an exercise activity like yoga, that means I have the yoga mat and the electronics to play my yoga DVD on.  Being cold is not so bad.

Shhhh,

Steph

My First Temping Gig

I had my first temping experience this week.  This is how it happened:

I was slinking around the house, I had just gotten dressed (I try to get dressed every morning so I don’t stay in my PJs all day) and was at the kitchen table filling out some job applications when my cell phone rang.  I didn’t recognize the number but I knew it was Massachusetts so I picked up quickly.  “Stephanie Howson” I said (that’s how I answer my phone when I want to sound professional).  It was my temping agent, a really nice dude, who asked if I was willing to pick up a two-day gig at a consulting firm in Waltham (one town over).  I said yes of course.  At this point any money is good money.  So I put my work on the back burner and got into some “business casual” wear.  I hopped in my car and headed toward Waltham having no idea what to expect.

Mind you, I had never temped before this point.  The only knowledge I had of temping was from that movie Obsessed I had watched in which the female temp goes wacko and stocks her temporary boss.  Other than utilizing crazy people, the movie didn’t really tell me anything else about temping.

I must have been lucky because the office I was sent to was really nice.  The office building was all new-agey looking on the outside and had a parking garage that was free (a huge plus in the Boston area).  I entered the office and was met by the receptionist who knew who I was and immediately led me to Heather- a woman who was in charge of giving me the task I would be working on for the next two day.  Heather was super nice- she showed me how to navigate a program called ArcGIS and I spent 9 hours over the span of two days physically matching delivery addresses in Argentina to the actual geographical points.  Let me just tell you that I now know the entire geographical shape of Argentina and can navigate it based on various shapes made by lakes and rivers and highways.  Not a skill that will really be helpful in pursuing a career in nonprofit development but a skill none-the-less.

But back to the office- there was a fully stocked kitchen- I mean fully stocked.  It was like a mini Bates Commons.  They had yogurts and string cheese and veggies with dip and hummus and sodas and sparkling water that you could take at any time.  Fruit, toast, an espresso machine- it was really something.  I drank a can of Coke when I needed an extra booth to keep staring at Google Earth.  I drank a cup of green tea after I had the can of Coke because I still felt I needed caffeine but I was afraid I would combust if I had a second soda.  So I sat in an abandoned office and did this data entry.  And then I went home.  And returned the next day.  And when I finished at 1:30, I was free to leave.

Temping wasn’t so bad.  Now Im sure all experiences aren’t so great but the people I worked with were really nice and like I said- free soda?  Awesome.  I wonder what the next job will be- I hope it’s just a good.  It’s a great way for me to get a little extra cash with a minimum commitment.  I sincerely pray the jobs keep coming- I’ve heard some stories about people beginning as temps and then becoming permanent employees.

I get the feeling that temp work can be a bit judged just like other types of work like food industry positions etc.  But I must say, there are numerous and qualified candidates in these positions- you cannot judge a book by it’s employment status at this point- lots of great books are unemployed at the time and just trying to pay their rent.  And that’s me.  And hey, temping offers you some skills and experience working in an office setting.  And did I mention that the office I was temping at had a room with a massage chair?  Oh no?  Well it did.  And now I can put ArcGIS system management skills on my resume… or knowledge of geography of Argentina… though I don’t think I will.

Shhhh,

Steph

Rainy Saturdays, Chinatown, and a Mini Bates Reunion

This Saturday was the first day Jordan and I have had to spend together in a long time.  I was away from the apartment last weekend and the weekend before, who knows.  Basically, we both felt as if we hadn’t been in each others’ presence, or at least paying attention to each other for a long time.  So we had decided to make this weekend great.

I have gotten a bee in my bonnet about going hiking.  See, I love autumn, everything about it.  I love the colors, the smells, and the feeling I get when I go outside and feel energized rather than wanting to instantly collapse from the heat.  So it makes sense that I would want to hike in this weather, it’s my power weather.  (Note: My parents may not understand what I’m saying here as historically I have hated hiking.  This is because my father would take us on obscenely long hikes when the weather would not always be perfect.  In fact sometimes it would rain.  Hard.  Like a storm.  Furthermore, he would rarely plan the route ahead of time- something I do without fail and it is a trait I picked up from my mother who’s the same way- so we would be following him, cursing life and our achy knees, praying that he wouldn’t want to take another “detour” to check out a ledge that was always “only another ten minutes” off our charted route.  It never was.  But my hikes aren’t like dad’s hikes.  My hikes are planned, and I make a nice little picnic.  My hikes are me leading in tube socks and shorts with Jordan trailing behind in his Nikes.)

Anyway, so I was all excited to hike and after a Friday evening of watching half of Waterworld and half of Obsessed.  Now, both of these movies are ridiculous.  Waterworld because it makes no logical sense.  I tried to keep my indignant exclamations to a minimum but I just couldn’t help it.  Where in God’s name were the villains getting the gas to fuel their metal ski-doos if the whole world is covered in water?  I’m sure, knowing the current world, that all reserves of gas would be used up in say oh… a year tops?  Also, dirt is a precious commodity in the movie because land is a thing of the past.  However, what can you do with dirt?!  I can understand water being a precious commodity, a domestic cat even, but certainly not dirt.  What are you going to do with it?  Plant some seeds that you don’t have?  But anyway, Kevin Costner’s hair is in a half ponytail for the entire movie, which is quite a treat to see.  I guess we know that in a future where all the polar ice caps have melted- half-ponytails are back in style.  Now Obsessed was quite a different movie- instead of a Western/ Indiana Jones type flick on water, Obsessed was a crazy white girl movie.  And let me tell you, as a white woman myself, I find crazy white women movies terrifying.  The characters are always so crazy.  Fatal Attraction, The Swimmer- all terrifying.  The difference between those flicks and this one is that the man who is being terrorized is black and so is his family.  This leads to some interesting analysis of the scenes where the crazy white woman (Ali Larter) is claiming certain things, which the black man (Idris Elba) vehemently denies- a white woman’s word against a black man’s.  Who usually comes out on top in these situations?  Historically (and usually right now), it’s the white woman.  But anyway, though the movie provides an interesting race and gender analysis, it has a terrible soundtrack and an even more awful script.  But, hey, you can’t always have it all.

So after our awesome cinematic night, I was all ready to hike the day away.  Until we awoke to torrential downpour.  After pouting a bit, I decided to go pick up a pass from our local library to get discounted admission to the Museum of Fine Arts.  We drove there, commenting upon how obscene parking prices are in the city and how the MBTA is a poor excuse for public transportation.  No wonder American’s sit at home.  Really.  It’s so damn hard to get anywhere.  And then once you do, you have to pay $10-20 per person to gain access to where you just travelled.  The situation just astounds me.

We spent about two hours in the museum, philosophizing about life and commenting on how we were surrounded with pillaged and stolen goods.  Oh colonialism- how you’ve filled our museums.  Upon leaving the museum, we headed to Chinatown where we had a fight involving Jordan’s I phone on the streets of Chinatown (he was hungry and began to lose touch with reality, I was channeling my father and wanted to find the best restaurant possible and Jordan just wanted to eat, and so we clashed and the battle ended with me yelling “Well YOU have the I phone so YOU lead the way!) and then we met two good Bates pals for dinner.  One lives and works in the Boston area and the other in Portland, ME.  We caught up on some Bates news and discussed alumni networking for some time.  We agreed that it was super important for alumni/ae to help graduates out and that too often people forget that they owe their institution beyond sending them a check each year.  The Bates people that I’ve spoken to have been extremely warm and helpful, and that I appreciate.  In fact, I appreciate it so much that I will return the favor and make sure to put myself out there as a resource for the younger Bates generation.  Because I might not be cruising around Boston in a Bates sweatsuit but I always put that I am a graduate of Bates College on any job application I send out because who knows?  Someone might see that I’m a Batesie and may be a Batesie themselves.  Or in Jordan’s case, someone might be married to a Batesie and they might perk up at the mention of our glorious institution.

Hey, maybe someone might have read the articles that mention Bates blogging in the New York Times, will check out Stealthy Secrets, and then will offer me the job of my dreams.  It’s all about wearing the proverbial Bates sweatsuit.  You paid for it, wear it out.

Shhhh,

Steph