People ask what I do for a living. My short answer is both vague and boring. My long answer results in eyes scandalously widened. I’m not giving you all either answer, but I will tell you that I love my job.
In previous jobs, I did work that was both more meaningful to the white liberal crowd, and it was also more tedious. I was comfortable there, but I liked what I did in theory more than in practice. I spent a lot of time online. I blogged more. I kept up with several feminist and trying-to-conceive/pregnancy/baby forums. I left work feeling bogged down by the weight of not accomplishing much nor having much to do.
Every day, I get to do math, science, and writing. It’s the perfect job for me. Better yet, they like me and the work I do. It keeps me busy. I actually enjoy getting in early, working hard, and leaving a little late. My workplace is filled with people who enjoy what they do; every role is different, and every role suits the person doing it. I’ve never worked in a place where so many people share similar values: environmental, social, political, and interpersonal. It is fun and respectful and driven. Even when they were doing brackets for the basketball thing and a few of us loudly proclaimed our lack of interest, there was a strong sense of whimsy. Attitudes were jovial and casual all around.
The big office scandal is that the price was recently raised on the pop machine in the break room. The owner of my company is trying to get it decreased; he takes no profits from the machine.
I miss my boss from back in Michigan, but I’m not disappointed about this career change/shift/move. I feel like my time and talents are being put to use, and it would have taken at least 15 years of cost-of-living increases to achieve my current salary. Money isn’t everything, but it sure feels nice to be able to pay all of our bills—and we are able to pay them for the first time in several years.
A dear friend from elementary/middle/high school and college came to stay with us for two days. We hadn’t seen one another in four years, and it was wonderful to catch up. My 22-year-old self, still driving large parts of my decision making, was embarrassed by the new corporate mommy lifestyle I demonstrated. That 22-year-old me was up on politics and news. She wore steel toed boots and went to protests. She did not pass for straight. She sighs when she sees me in heels and blouses and tasteful lipstick. My friend, too, has changed. We’ve both grown up and work within the systems we’ve chosen, and I found that it’s easier to converse about the things that matter to us.
I don’t know about my friend, but I know that I am happier than I was at 22. I understand more about who I am and what is important to me. I’m more confident. I’m no longer trying to impress people with my anger, although I still believe that anger has value. A little over three years ago, I went to Washington to protest at the second inauguration of George 43. I promise you that if Clinton earns the White House, we will be there with our daughter to celebrate the achievement for all women. How could we not take our daughter there to be a part of that?
But would we go to protest if we dislike the new president? No. I think our efforts would be better used somewhere else.
Wednesday, April 16, 2008
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12 comments:
Having lived in countries where protests are illegal, I'm still glad we have them. Life changes, you don't always have to be the one at the front lines, however. If it's not right for you and your family. As long as you feel good about your place in the world and are living your values. Your post did remind me of Ben Franklin quote. Ben Franklin said that if a man (and I'd add woman) is not a liberal by the time he is 20, he has no heart, and that if he is not a conservative by the time he is 30, he has no brain. But it also made me a little sad. How are we going to change the world if everyone just grows up and retreats into their own homes and their own lives? (Not saying that's what you're doing, but I feel the pull myself).
I often catch a glimpse of myself and wonder when I got to where I am... Although I always expected to have children when I "grew-up", I certainly never pictured myself in a house in the suburbs with a *gulp* mini-van in the driveway. At times I am appalled at who I appear to have become, but... I too am much happier now...and still can feel that 20 something inside and enjoy watching her take over sometimes too!
This post smacks of sweet, hard-earned contentedness. After i read it, i took a deep, cleansing breath & smiled.
I don't mean to imply that protests aren't important or that I no longer think they're for me. I'm just not willing to travel 700 miles to protest the inauguration. I will certainly go to celebrate a woman's inauguration into the White House, and I will certainly continue to take my daughter to rallies and protests for issues that are important to us.
Are we happier now, older, because of the things we have (suburbs, minivans) or just because we came out the other side of a pretty angst-filled decade (the 20s) for women in this country? For me, the 'growing up' has manifested in valuing family more than independence, etc. But my politics and my values about money and social change are the same (I think). Maybe not. But I don't think that I've become more conservative. Perhaps more traditional. My politics are still pretty radical. Interesting to think about.
This is a great post, Em. Got me thinking today for sure. I wrote on the same subject, inspired by you. http://www.noonewatching.com/archives/2008/04/em_gets_me_thinking.html
I think that it is largely in part that you are not 22 that you can write a post like this. :)
Your post was so good, I decided to link to it on my blog and write an answer to it for myself there.
In answer to Emilin's post on Employment, values and change ..
I hope that's ok with you! ;)
Lipstick? Really?
I never would have guessed it.
I am glad you are content. Without some joy and peace in our lives we end up with no energy to fight the battles that we decide are important.
And tell the 22-year-old you that I don't wear lipstick or heels and am straight. Those symbols we think of am meaningful in our blue-haired youth (or purple-haired as the case was for me, or green-haired in a a blue-dye-gone-horribly-awry incident) don't actually reveal as much as we thought they did. I do pity you the heels as I find them to be horribly uncomfortable and end up barefoot anytime I try to wear them.
Stacie, don't tell 22-year-old me, but I wear sneakers to and from work. The heels live under my desk at work.
I agree about your to protest or not comment. When I was in my 20s, I was a regular on the NYC to DC run; in my 30s, less so, and in my 40s, not at all. We have different priorities at different ages, and I think what's most important is that we accept the changes in our lives and don't feel we have to revert back to an era that no longer obtains.
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