Sour Grapes

I'm looking forward to having a week where there is no huge melodrama in my life. It would be really nice to end the week feeling satisfied, complete, and fulfilled by sunshine, work, and self-care.

It will happen eventually, I'm sure. But it didn't come this week.

And sometimes I think that that is part of my lot in life--struggling and growing simultaneously. There is a growing sentiment in certain circles that happiness and contentment is the goal in life, and if you are not at peace you are not complete. I'm reading "Bright Sided: How the Relentless Promotion of Positive Thinking Has Undermined America," and although the title is, as I saw reported in one internet commentary, rather hyperbolic, it is an awesome book! Barbara Ehrenreich reports that all of this happiness and positive thinking BS is really just a philosophical thing, no more likely to benefit us in any way than being pessimistic or experiencing struggle in life.

Ah, now that's refreshing. On with the story...

This week I faced a very similar situation to what became my downfall while teaching at Harper College. Ironic that I am in exactly the same position as that job--teaching massage therapy to adults. The basic problem is that I get a lot of lip about administration being "supportive" of me, my teaching, and my actions, when they are in fact being anything but supportive. A very interesting quirk of vocational education, me thinks.

I'm currently teaching a 4-week Intro to Anatomy class/module. I have a very small class, 3 students, and one or two of them just hate me (which really means they hate themselves and are using me as an easy target). And they are whiny and irresponsible to boot--projecting their anxiety about anatomy onto me, blaming me for not teaching them in the way they think I should, but with no offer of insight into what that would be. Okay, so that's normal for adult learners, I suppose. However, the problem is that this is a for-profit vocational school, who (let's face it) only care about getting students enrolled, keeping them enrolled, and getting 'em through. The angry students, being insufficiently experienced in attending school responsibly, then bitch and moan to administration...who listens to them and treats them like a customer who is about to withhold their busine$$...and then I (the teacher) get the meeting, the discipline, and the blame.

That makes no sense.

After several weeks of complaints and meetings, the class got to the point of sitting, staring, not participating, and telling me that I wasn't teaching them the way I should, during "review day" for a test. It was the climax of tension in the class. I interrupted the ridiculousness to ask what THEY needed, then, if I wasn't providing it. All I got was attitude. They wanted me to give them answers to the study guide (test questions)...no, I won't do that. I'll explain it, answer questions, etc., but I won't hand out answers. They want me to explain things to them. Explain what? Tell me? What are you confused about? Rolling eyes and saying I should know, because I'm the teacher.

Okay, fine. Review for the last 45 minutes on your own. If there is something I can help you with, I'm happy to. But I'm not handing out answers. And I'm not going in circles with you.

I email my boss about what ensued. I pursue the school tutor to enlist help with learning styles and coaching.

Next day, I hear nothing from my boss. Two out of three students bomb the test. Big surprise. I finally chat with my boss, and she tells me I absolutely shouldn't have given up on them for the rest of the class, told them to study on their own. I should have, yadda yadda yadda.... She says they are soured on me, because when they first met me, during one of their practical tests, they said I was texting and not watching them. TEXTING?! I don't text. Who the hell am I texting? I am a 32 year-old professional with 3 jobs and no fucking social life here. I DO have a blackberry with calculator used for calculating points/grades, a calendar for keeping track of what I am doing, a notepad for taking notes, and email coming in constantly that causes a light to flicker which will cause my battery to drain if I don't turn it off. And, yes, I do take brief phone calls from my boyfriend before I clock in. But I am certainly not texting while I'm supposed to be teaching!!

However, I inform her (and I haven't said anything about this previously because it is unprofessional in a way) that their previous instructor was on the school laptop planning her vacation during review time, and spent a good 30 minutes talking about her co-sleeping habits and relationship with her boyfriend during class time. This was while I was sitting in on her class to "train." Okay, so I'm a bitch for reporting that about my colleague. But I refuse to be disciplined (even verbally) for what I did, knowing what I saw.

Anyway, the meeting is full of things like: You shouldn't have done that... Next time, do this... They are our customers... And my personal favorite, "Cindy, you don't have to make friends with them."

Why. Why do these administrators always think I'm trying to make friends with the students???? That is their answer to everything. It's insane. The students are hostile to me and totally resisting, and I'm making friends because I am trying to appeal to their humanity?? Bull shit.

Oh. And wait. Spattered in there are a few sentences about how they will support me. Um. HUH??? Is this why you asked me, so fervently, about my boundaries during my interview? Because you don't really know what boundaries are? You think boundaries mean that every teacher wants to "be friends" with their students, so if they're not a complete and total bitch then they're crossing boundaries, while the administration demonstrates the double standard of saying their supportive but blaming everything on the teacher?? Nice ethics.

I'm soured on teaching in this setting. I am rethinking my decision to do this type of work again instead of the brainless (but physical, alas) work of plain-old massage.

It saddens me that it has to be like this. It saddens me that the vocational education environment is so toxic and distorted. It saddens me that I am not being validated. It saddens me that some people confuse being a sensitive & responsive human being with being weak and ineffective. It saddens me that these folks don't realize that their environment is a vicious circle that perpetuates itself.

Ah, ambivalence.

Home Visit

I went to Chicago this weekend, which was quite an ambitious endeavor for me--10 hours of flying in four days for someone who hates to fly, timing my trip in order to miss minimal amounts of work, etc. It was also the first time I've been home since December, and the resulting multiple stresses and life changes that ensued after that time.

It was good to be home. Saturday was a fairly nice day, sunny and in the upper 50's, so Leo & I went for a bike ride to his office--the new building his business now inhabits in Franklin Park. He bought the place in summer/fall of 2009 and they moved from the house to the building in November. I haven't seen it since before he finished the purchase, and it really looks good! It looks like a real office & warehouse. It's cool to see.

After that, we spent the afternoon planting seeds and sprouts in the garden. Leo is going all-out this year! He had a landscaper come to completely de-weed and sod the front and back yards, and the back yard is now completely cleared out for the garden. It is Leo's dream to have a lush garden full of homegrown food that he can pick and eat anytime he wants a snack! Based on last year's success, without much planning at all, this year should be good too. It was nice to be outside and digging around. I'm also hoping that we'll have some significant growth and veggies by late June (when I come back). We'll see...

Sunday was cold! It reminded me of why I hate this time of year in Chicago. Having to bundle up in April just plain SUCKS. I saw some massage clients while I was in town, and one of them made a comment that sounded like it had been passed on from others in the area--that he was grateful that the 85-degree day they had, last week, was not the start of summer, because it would suck to have no spring. I can't believe people actually would think that a Chicago summer would start in April and then not let up until August or September!! Seriously. That is like my fantasy, but it would never, ever happen.

Enough about the weather.

I did well on the planes, although the bumpiness of the turbulence really freaked me out. I realized that I must force myself to go into self-hypnosis for at least the first-half of the flight, if I am to feel pleasant in any way. I really freaked myself out on the flight to Chicago.

Part of that was because I had a run-in with TSA at LAX that was very upsetting. Basically, I pack all of my food (except for eggs & veggies, of course) for travel so that I don't starve or have to shop the second I arrive in town. So, this means canned fish, canned fruit, fruit spread, etc. Well, they took away my canned fruit, then took me aside to a cubicle to search through my suitcase (underwear, maxi pads and all) and took away my $5 bottle of unopened fruit spread, and as they were continuing to search, I started crying. It was so embarrassing and frustrating. I had put so much planning into deciding what food to bring with me and how to pack it, that I just didn't realize they would throw it right in the trash. I told one bitch, through my tears, that I had a special diet and had to pack my own food, and she had the nerve to ask me, "Is this a medical condition or is it because you're on a diet to lose weight or something?" So, I had to resort to explaining that I had an undiagnosed medical condition, actually food allergies, etc., etc.

I am so fucking SICK and TIRED of dealing with this stupid way of eating!! Okay, maybe not, because it does make me feel good. BUT. But, I am definitely sick and tired of explaining it to people ALL THE FUCKING TIME!!

Anyway, so that contributed to being ramped up on the plane.

But I did it, and I think the key is to fly often to get used to it.

My plan, at the moment, is to come home once every two months. The next times, it will be for much longer than a weekend. This month, I could only manage a month with my work schedule. In June, the weather will be nicer and I'm going to propose my thesis, so I will be home for 10-14 days or so. And I'm thinking about doing a road trip for either August or October's trip =). Who knows, I may do the weekend thing more often, but we'll see.

Leo, I presume, will come to California on the off-months, so that we get to visit at least once a month while I am here.

It was good to be home. It felt cozy and comfortable. It was really great to see Lib, the other cat, and to gather some things that I left behind that I desired/needed. Most of all, it was nice to be in a place where I knew I had a history and a life. Out here, everything feels kind of unstable and new. However, being in my 30's, that instability is not as exciting as it was in my 20's. It feels good to have a solid place to call home.

I'm not sure what the future holds, but I'm OK with that. I know I'm doing good things out here, but it's not my final destination, either. So, having the chance to reconnect and feel rooted again was nice. I'm sure I'll be bouncing around between locations, even psychically, for a while.

Ease is a Fantasy

After some drama with my research gig last week, I thought for sure that I would settle into a nice routine this week. I just recently started working with a chiropractor 3 mornings per week, in order to replace the lame job I had (& HATED) at Massage Envy. On Friday, I saw that I was almost fully booked for Monday, which made me very happy.

I also looked forward to starting a new evening massage class on Monday, a month-long module of Intro-Anatomy that I felt prepared and inspired to begin.

So, the weekend was glorious. No work (except for housework and thesis homework), rest, and beautiful sunshine.

Then the shit hit the fan. Again.

Monday morning, bright and early, I show up at the chiropractor's office to a locked door. After waiting 30 minutes (15 minutes past my first appointment time), a confused doctor showed up to find that his business partner had completely moved out over the weekend. Without notice. Total shock to him. WTF? Most of my appointments were his (the MIA doctor's) patients. It was (and still is) a confusing situation that has left my new gig an empty, dissatisfying work-for-peanuts mess.

My week at teaching started off fairly well. Until the second day, that is, when one of my middle-aged students would not stop whining about how much work anatomy is, compared to her first two courses (swedish & chair massage--pansy classes). This was after she painstakingly described her warm day at the beach with her kids and her long run outside. She was so upset, in fact, that she went straight to my boss...not to complain about her total lack of studying or to ask for academic assistance...but to whine about little things that I did that annoy her. This, of course, necessitated an official meeting whereby my annoying habits were brought to the table for discussion and evaluation.

Deja vous Harper College.

So, suffice it to say, I am sensing a turn into a worker bee again--ah, the feeling of not giving a shit about my job anymore, while remembering that being self-employed wasn't quite so bad, because however hard I work for someone else (whether at work or at home off-hours), I'm still doomed to disappoint someone and have my ego chiseled into sausage, because I'm the easy one to blame.

I've been asking myself this question a lot lately: Why am I here again? Is it really THAT important?

I don't even know if I will be accepted into a PhD program (which is the reason I moved here, to work with the lab at UCI), so will all of this be for naught?

Have I mentioned how much I HATE!! LOATHE!!! Orange County? I hate it here. Yes, yes, it's sunny. And warm. But, Praise the Lord! What else??!

Nothing.

Earthquake!

Just felt my first earthquake while awake...while sitting at the computer, no less. 15 minutes later, my heart rate is getting back to normal, and I'm not shaking as much.

Apparently it was a 6.9, epicenter off the coast of Baja California (a few hours south?). Felt like being on a train, going full speed ahead. The vertical blinds in my apartment shook. Stuff on the shelves rattled. I could kinda see the walls shifting to and fro. The whole thing probably lasted about a minute. I was sitting at the computer when I felt the first rumbles...sat for a moment, then looked around, then got up, walked around the living room (when it peaked), noted that I felt a little nauseous and didn't like it, came back to computer, posted a quick Facebook status, then it settled down.

I always wanted to feel one. Now I have. And I did NOT like it! Ack! Made me a little seasick.

I'm the Clinical One!

In the last week or so, I have accomplished quite a lot at the lab--and I have suffered much to get there (isn't that how it goes sometimes?). I have come to a very interesting place, as a result.

It all started a couple of weeks ago (before spring break) when I ended up training to do blood work for the study, by default. They're training everyone to do everything, so this was my turn. Plus, they needed one person to work solo about a week into the future, so I volunteered. So, I trained. Blood work is something I've NEVER done before, and I really didn't feel good about it! I don't have a blood "issue" or anything, but it is just so tedious, with so much traveling and time constraints and detailed work in a typical lab setting (four white walls). I started feeling jealous that my colleagues with only a bachelor's degree were the ones interviewing the pregnant women who came in for the study--I am the one who is *this close* to getting a master's in clinical psychology and professional experience with pregnancy. No fair! I felt like stomping my feet.

Besides, at lab meetings, professors and assistants were at a loss to find someone who could really commit to doing the diagnostic interview full-force and with solid confidence. I kept my mouth shut in order to not interrupt the meeting. But, oh, how I wanted to be the one! They even talked about hiring a clinical psychologist (yeah, right--too expensive) or a PsyD student from a nearby professional psychology school. Ahem! Hello! That's practically ME!

I mean, I was also chomping-at-the-bit to get a job working for a psychologist doing assessments and interviews, so wouldn't that be great!! Calm down, Cindy, I told myself--I didn't want to butt in where I wasn't welcome.

Anyway, word got around to my supervisor that I didn't like the blood work, and she was fine with it. I told her I wanted to get into doing the diagnostic interview--that was a big interest of mine, I would love to hook up with one of these clinical psychologists that they were making contact with, I was trained in this type of interviewing, etc. She ran with it.

I had the opportunity to do the interview myself this week, when no one else was available. Whew! It's a doozie. For those of you who know, it's the SCID-IV (research version). I had someone with a LOT of symptoms. As luck (!) would have it, I had to end the interview early to get to work (can you say BAD!!), but as a result of that experience + a meeting with a clinical psychologist the next day (as a result of my prompting), another professor finally learned about my clinical background. I stuck my nose in and expressed my concern for the almost-total lack of referrals we have for the moms who present with symptoms (yeah, another BAD), as well as my lab colleagues' casual attitude about the SCID (when I expressed my displeasure at ending the interview early, one said it was okay, we did one while she was pregnant to get past history, which we didn't...and the other said, don't worry, we got the depression part, that's all that matters!), I am now becoming the on-site SCID expert for the study!!

The funny thing is, I am one of the only people in the lab to bring up issues such as, well, hmmm...If we are supposed to do the full interview, we have to do the full interview!! There is so MUCH data to be gained from this, rather than JUST a diagnosis. I know this because of my own thesis--I'm gaining PUBLISHABLE data from interview responses that specifically do not qualify for a DSM-IV diagnosis!!! Plus, I guess it takes a near-shrink to realize that some people aren't even very familiar with the particulars of DSM-IV diagnostic criteria/symptoms (especially bachelors-level psych majors or health psych grad students), let alone reliability among clinical psychologists who do this for a living, so this needs to be taken seriously. And wouldn't it be an ethical, if not clearly an inaccuracy, issue to have inadequately trained para-professionals doing a diagnostic interview without any type of supervision?! Yeah. That's what I'm talking about.

Sometimes it's hard to be a professional. The more you know, the more complicated things become.

Anyway, there are so many good things to come out of this--I get to attain the EXACT type of experience that I want to gain, I will be happier, the study will be run much better and will have appropriate staffing for this task, and women will be served better by our resources and our more-accurate data. At the end of the day, these are very good things. It's satisfying to know that I am helping in this way!