I may have two options for employment. Finally. However, between the two rises a dilemma.
The first position would be with a small, but successful community organization primarily serving immigrants and refugees. It would be back in a nice small city I worked in before moving to Syria in 2006. Actually, the job they think I'm a perfect fit for won't be available until next summer. In the mean time, I'll run the front desk and take on a bunch of other things that need doing. The job next year would involve working with refugee families and the community at-large. It would be a creative, interesting, satisfying job in a really lovely community.
The second remains only a possibility at the moment. I received a call from our local school district this morning inviting me to interview for a position on the crisis intervention team, part of their Safe Schools department. I would be part of a group that works to create safe, healthy schools. In my preliminary interview, with four members of the team, they described their job as one where you work with everyone from students and their families to the district superintendent. It's a multifaceted approach drawing on community work, data analysis, policy work. They may work with one school for just a month, but another for the whole year. You may be assigned to a school, but you'll also be working at other schools throughout the district. Though not an subject I've worked on, it does sound interesting. At the last second, after accepting the non-profit job, I was called back in for a second interview for this position.
The hitch is really one for any of us wanting to work in non-profits: How to survive and plan for a future on a typical non-profit salary?
The community job, at least for the next year, would pay little more than minimum wage. They're throwing in medical coverage and an on-site studio apartment, which is huge and the only way to survive, really. Next year I might earn something in the low 20s, but would be lucky to earn something in the 30s in my lifetime.
The schools job would pay more, offer more benefits and offer hope of a pension (though a dim one given the politics in Florida these days) in 20 years.
The community the non-profit job is in would offer chances to network with other agencies and organizations. I could probably pick up work writing reports for folks or doing small project work.
Low paying, well-meaning jobs with no retirement sounds far more terrifying at this point of life. On one hand, I am desperate to get involved, to rumble, get my hands dirty making change. On the other, I'd rather not be eating cat food from the tin when I'm old. But how to stave off guilty feelings about working for The Man?
It's just another thing that doesn't get discussed in certain circles. Talk of pension is too 'corporate' for some or just not a serious option for some organizations. Thus, my generation will end up in the same place as those trying to find a dignified way to retire today. Yet with tuition, student loan debt and financial insecurity rising for both individuals and non-profits, financial issues around staff retention need to be taken up in a more substantive way by the sector.
I'll keep you posted.
A decision - mine or not - will be made on Wednesday.
Peace/سلام
15 August, 2011
11 August, 2011
Random family photo (Maternal edition)
Random family photo (Paternal edition)
Banner over the door is a big hint.
More dispatches from the front lines of the REAL crisis (JOBS, you numpties!)
Here are excerpts from an email received from a very good friend and fellow MSW grad today. I think about him a lot because he has far more on his shoulders than I: small child, mortgage, car payments...And with his wife employed full-time in a good job, they can't just pull up stakes to follow a job like I can.
He's a brilliant guy with tons of experience and now a graduate degree.
All the right moves, yes?
And still no job.
----
"I wish I could at least get started (before my fucking 40th Birthday in September). In my worst nightmares, I never dreamed that I would still be looking for work at this point. I would say "a job instead of "work", but "work" meets my sentiments better. When I need a "pick me up", I read through all of the rejection emails and letters.
I have had a few interviews, but received three rejection calls last week. I am truly scared because soon another 75+ MSSW students will graduate in the next two weeks...
I know I sound whiny and I guess I am, but I have not called any friends (or emailed much either) because I am embarrassed to be still unemployed."
----
Peace/سلام
He's a brilliant guy with tons of experience and now a graduate degree.
All the right moves, yes?
And still no job.
----
"I wish I could at least get started (before my fucking 40th Birthday in September). In my worst nightmares, I never dreamed that I would still be looking for work at this point. I would say "a job instead of "work", but "work" meets my sentiments better. When I need a "pick me up", I read through all of the rejection emails and letters.
I have had a few interviews, but received three rejection calls last week. I am truly scared because soon another 75+ MSSW students will graduate in the next two weeks...
I know I sound whiny and I guess I am, but I have not called any friends (or emailed much either) because I am embarrassed to be still unemployed."
----
Peace/سلام
08 August, 2011
Still lives
In between job searches I am finally getting around to scanning photos from my mom and dad's families. Most of the ones I have are from dad's side, left to me by my wonderful great-aunt before she passed away while I was in college. Most of those are from my great-grandmother, pictured above when she graduated from Mary Hardin Baylor College in Texas, and include some really neat photos of her life in Tucson, Arizona with my great-grandfather in the very early years on the 20th century. Might share some. I think they're pretty fascinating and not just because it's family.
04 August, 2011
Sticks & stones may break my bones...
...then I'll crawl over and bring you down by gnawing off your feet. Count on it.
01 August, 2011
Playlist for the day
Wishing everyone I know & don't know out there a blessed and generous Ramadan, especially those struggling for their lives and freedom in Syria, Egypt, Yemen, Bahrain, Morocco, Somalia and elsewhere.
When I mentioned I wanted a resolution to my country's irresponsible, manufactured debt ceiling crisis for my birthday yesterday, this was not the outcome I had in mind, but it's hardly surprising given the toxic political environment. Shared sacrifice? Hardly. The word union can be heard in several of these songs and you can hear it literally, referring to organized labor, or as a general call for people to come together, across boundaries and issues to try to turn things around for the majority in this country and the world.
They often teach us the words as kids, but never their real meaning. A subtle, timeless call to action.
About the Spanish Civil War, but could just as easily be about the poverty and injustice that surround us every day but that we choose to not really see. Also, do yourself a favor and Google the International Brigades.
I could keep going with favorites: Tiburon by Ruben Blades; How Will the Wolf Survive by Los Lobos; Strange Fruit by Lewis Allen (perf. by Nina Simone, of course); Free & Equal Blues by Josh White; The Jam; The Wire; Black Flag; Izanzaren; Marcel Khalifa; Grandmaster Flash; Public Enemy...But go find your own inspiration.
Peace/سلام
When I mentioned I wanted a resolution to my country's irresponsible, manufactured debt ceiling crisis for my birthday yesterday, this was not the outcome I had in mind, but it's hardly surprising given the toxic political environment. Shared sacrifice? Hardly. The word union can be heard in several of these songs and you can hear it literally, referring to organized labor, or as a general call for people to come together, across boundaries and issues to try to turn things around for the majority in this country and the world.
They often teach us the words as kids, but never their real meaning. A subtle, timeless call to action.
About the Spanish Civil War, but could just as easily be about the poverty and injustice that surround us every day but that we choose to not really see. Also, do yourself a favor and Google the International Brigades.
I could keep going with favorites: Tiburon by Ruben Blades; How Will the Wolf Survive by Los Lobos; Strange Fruit by Lewis Allen (perf. by Nina Simone, of course); Free & Equal Blues by Josh White; The Jam; The Wire; Black Flag; Izanzaren; Marcel Khalifa; Grandmaster Flash; Public Enemy...But go find your own inspiration.
Peace/سلام
25 July, 2011
The good times keep a-rollin' on
Here's another snapshot of the job hunt landscape, courtesy of an email I received today from a fellow UT School of Social Work grad:
"[Another fellow grad] was saying she applied for a basic Program Specialist I job through TX HHSC and actually got an interview. They told her they had received 600 applications!!! They interviewed 6, but then she didn't get it. How crazy is that? 600 applicants for one job that isn't even that great!"
So much for saving the world. Save yourselves!
Oy!
"[Another fellow grad] was saying she applied for a basic Program Specialist I job through TX HHSC and actually got an interview. They told her they had received 600 applications!!! They interviewed 6, but then she didn't get it. How crazy is that? 600 applicants for one job that isn't even that great!"
So much for saving the world. Save yourselves!
Oy!
20 July, 2011
Ruminations at the true conclusion of graduate school
Reading: Fragile Things by Neil Gaiman; On Writing by Eudora Welty
Slowly working through: Kelby's books on Lightroom 3 and Photoshop CS5
Playing with: My Yashica D
Listening to: Janelle Monae, Mavis Staples, Billy Bragg
Wondering: Are pirates passe?
-------
I finally received my very pricey piece of paper yesterday.
Appropriately, my first diploma got lost in the mail, never to be heard from again. For what I paid for my education (Loan debt as of today: $57K and accruing interest), I damned well expect to receive something to show for it. I opened the cardboard envelope and checked that it was actually in there - albeit heavily wrinkled in two spots - and promptly stowed it in a desk drawer. Grad school is slowly fading into the dust clouds in my rear view, but the future is just as cloudy, if not darker.
“Oh, a growth industry,” someone joked with me two years ago, when I began work on a master’s of social work. And that has been the expectation from all parties: me; friends; fellow students; faculty; members of the general public. It’s a time of grinding need in my country and so those choosing to enter a helping profession such as social work should be relatively immune from on-going employment woes. I have experience, education, intelligence, and compassion. What could go wrong?
I believed that right up until this week, when my one and only call back and interview in two months of searching led to naught. I am not sure if I was fooling myself during the two and a half years of my program. I am not sure if it's that nobody knows how bad things are until they are in the midst of it. Certainty is becoming an antique.
I do know that I am now a master’s level social worker with skills in communications, project management, community outreach and organizing, casework, policy advocacy, and research. I have worked internationally and have a pretty solid grasp of two languages. I have classroom teaching experience. Sure mine is a bit of an unusual background, but it’s rich with experience, at least in the right person’s eyes.
And yet, here I am, living with my mom for the foreseeable future while I hunt for jobs here, there, and everywhere. I am extremely grateful, especially when she reiterates that I am welcome to stay for as long as I need.
My horizons have narrowed significantly. I have gone from wanting to end poverty and save the world (only slightly joking there) to simply wanting to pay off my student loans and not be broke when I am my mother’s age. I am luckier than many I know: no children; no car or mortgage payments (no car at all at the moment); a bit of money in the bank in case of emergency (or to buy a few months of temporary health insurance); the ability to relocate. Having worked in the county assistance office in Austin for a year, I am extremely grateful for being housed, fed, healthy, and loved. And, I’ve only been at this for two months, not two years. Yes, I’m lucky, for now.
Yet, “Living in a van, down by the river” is threatening to become the punchline to my life, but the joke is no longer funny.
I arrived home from Geneva and my internship with UNHCR finally feeling I wanted to settle in somewhere and give my all to an organization and a community. To be a part of something. To nurture some projects and positive change.
“You’ll have a job by your birthday,” my mother said, not long after I arrived.
My birthday is in less than two weeks. Her tone and projections have shifted.
“It’ll just take time,” she says now when my frustration shows.
I don’t mean to wallow. It drags me down that along with me, several really great friends that graduated with me are in the same boat. Energy, good intentions, compassion and brains going to waste. I know millions are wedged in the dinghy, with more trying to climb aboard every day, and the creaky thing is still taking on water.
“Now I’m worried because the August graduates are about to be unleashed on the job market,” wrote one friend in an email, describing his job search as "soul-crushing."
Another classmate posted a comment about only receiving two almost interviews out of 45 applications. “It’s all who you know,” she wrote.
Experience + graduate degree = good job.
The jig is up. The old formulas no longer compute. Hunker down and shelter in place.
At my school, my concentration within social work is known as Community and Administrative Leadership, CAL for short, which means everything from public policy to nonprofit management to community work. What I don’t have is a Clinical background, the other side of social work, meaning mental health and counseling. Not my area of interest or expertise and it would be negligent for me to even try to fill such a position.
I interned for a year at Travis County as a social worker intern and my role was to work with clients who had seen a caseworker for direct assistance with rent and utilities. I didn’t write checks, much to many people’s dismay and confusion, but I could help them enroll in assistance programs, refer them to other community services, and just hear them out for an hour. It wasn’t at all what I had hoped to do with my experience and degree. It was frustrating enough to hand over the phone number for Section 8 to a client, knowing full well how ridiculously long the waiting list is. As with so much of our assistance network in this country, I might help them maintain, but never really recover their footing. It was a difficult year, but I did help some folks, gained new skills, and was well-reviewed by colleagues and superiors.
After receiving no word back on my initial applications for non-profits, I branched out to vacancy announcements for social worker positions, assuming I had the education and experience necessary. Unfortunately, announcements for every Social Worker position I have so far seen emphasize the need for clinical experience and include counseling or mental health treatment as part of the job responsibilities. I'm a bit confused as to how a social worker can't get a social worker job, but there you have it.
Social work seemed a good choice for someone wanting to advance as a do-gooder. I wanted to work for positive change in communities and throw my activist mentality and skills at meaningful work. The social work profession supposedly keeps person at the heart of all efforts. I had seen too many projects and programs that have lost sight of people or never even bothered with them in the first place. Social justice is also supposed to be a cornerstone of the profession, which certainly suited me. A degree in social work was touted as something I could use in a multitude of ways.
Thing is, I ended up with an awful lot of questions: What happened to meso- and macro-? Why was poverty never mentioned in my program, save one class, in a substantive manner? Why are we dealing with symptoms and not solutions? Systemic change, anyone?
“Sometimes, you know, you get busy with work and life and you have to just put that social justice thing down,” said one girl during an open discussion on the first day of our practice seminar, a course that would run concurrently with our year-long first internship.
“I’m sorry,” I said, “but then I call bullshit and you are not a social worker.”
Well, I did say it gently.
My experience, so far, has left me feeling that whatever it is we define as social work, at least in this country, is not about change, but maintenance of the status quo. I better understand why Alinsky, bless him, couldn't stand social workers. It’s a shame, really, because I have friends in the program, both Clinical and CAL, who want to do so much more and who are just as sharp and rebellious-minded as Saul. We just chose to invest in a system that I believe no longer values such spirit. What would Jane Adams do, indeed?
I tried to describe the feeling once by saying I'd never felt more a part of The System or The Man (or however you want to phrase it) as I did during my graduate education. It wasn’t an education rich with critical thinking, it was a training regiment, and I’m not sure at the moment what it prepared me for. Yes, I could have left when my doubts reared up after a year, but then I would have been stuck with too many credits to transfer to another degree, the prospect of starting from scratch carrying a significant existing loan debt. And calling for change was like shouting into the wind.
It's a lousy time to have a degree that you have to explain to people. I saw an article recently that asked the question, “Should you be able to sue for an inadequate education?” Basically, should you be able to recoup your money if you’re not happy with the product. Interesting question. At the least, how do you define ‘inadequate’?
But that’s all passed and no going back. So, what now? Well, I’ll keep looking, sending my CV to the farthest reaches and every friend and family member I can. Finding a job is, indeed, a full-time job. I’m applying to work as a substitute teacher for the coming school year. I’m gauging where to begin volunteering my time in the community. Reconnecting with a few old friends. Trying to stay fit and healthy. Thankfully, as Billy Bragg notes, the beach is still free and I'm soaking in the sea most evenings to try to quiet my mind.
Just as important, if not more so, I am finally back to personal practices of writing and photography, working on projects I’ve neglected for far too long. I am extraordinarily thankful to find a haven in both. I'll start sharing more of that as I go, whether you want it or not.
I'm not just worried about me though. As a country, we have forgotten that things like roads, firemen, libraries, schools and sidewalks cost money. We've forgotten where the money for those things comes from. We've forgotten that nobody in their right mind goes into teaching to get rich. True, it's not a calling for everyone, but when teachers become public enemy #1, when science and knowledge are vilified like witchcraft, when compassion and calls for equality (or even simple tolerance) are shouted down, we've really gone round the bend as a society and I'm not sure how we get back because, most importantly, we've totally jettisoned the idea of working together and compromise in favor of a scorched Earth approach. The truth is that nobody ever wins those scenarios. Civility is passe. We could all use a refresher run through of Kindergarten: share, work together, inside voice, compromise, don’t eat paste. Do not try to tell me some people out there don’t act like their dipping into the Elmer’s a bit too often. If we don’t climb out of our trenches soon, I’m not sure what’ll be left and that’s heartbreaking here in the 21st century. This was the future once, the glorious, shining chrome future. The shine is certainly off though.
I haven't given up on the world yet. I can't. When I've tried it never lasts long. I am willing to throw in and work with anyone who wants to make things better for the majority for who the world just doesn't work.Anyone. Well, provided their idea of debate isn't shouting into somebody's face from a distance of a half-inch. I’m not sure what you’ll see from me here moving forward. I’ll keep writing, maybe you’ll keep reading, and hopefully you’ll speak up.
Peace/سلام
Slowly working through: Kelby's books on Lightroom 3 and Photoshop CS5
Playing with: My Yashica D
Listening to: Janelle Monae, Mavis Staples, Billy Bragg
Wondering: Are pirates passe?
-------
I finally received my very pricey piece of paper yesterday.
Appropriately, my first diploma got lost in the mail, never to be heard from again. For what I paid for my education (Loan debt as of today: $57K and accruing interest), I damned well expect to receive something to show for it. I opened the cardboard envelope and checked that it was actually in there - albeit heavily wrinkled in two spots - and promptly stowed it in a desk drawer. Grad school is slowly fading into the dust clouds in my rear view, but the future is just as cloudy, if not darker.
“Oh, a growth industry,” someone joked with me two years ago, when I began work on a master’s of social work. And that has been the expectation from all parties: me; friends; fellow students; faculty; members of the general public. It’s a time of grinding need in my country and so those choosing to enter a helping profession such as social work should be relatively immune from on-going employment woes. I have experience, education, intelligence, and compassion. What could go wrong?
I believed that right up until this week, when my one and only call back and interview in two months of searching led to naught. I am not sure if I was fooling myself during the two and a half years of my program. I am not sure if it's that nobody knows how bad things are until they are in the midst of it. Certainty is becoming an antique.
I do know that I am now a master’s level social worker with skills in communications, project management, community outreach and organizing, casework, policy advocacy, and research. I have worked internationally and have a pretty solid grasp of two languages. I have classroom teaching experience. Sure mine is a bit of an unusual background, but it’s rich with experience, at least in the right person’s eyes.
And yet, here I am, living with my mom for the foreseeable future while I hunt for jobs here, there, and everywhere. I am extremely grateful, especially when she reiterates that I am welcome to stay for as long as I need.
My horizons have narrowed significantly. I have gone from wanting to end poverty and save the world (only slightly joking there) to simply wanting to pay off my student loans and not be broke when I am my mother’s age. I am luckier than many I know: no children; no car or mortgage payments (no car at all at the moment); a bit of money in the bank in case of emergency (or to buy a few months of temporary health insurance); the ability to relocate. Having worked in the county assistance office in Austin for a year, I am extremely grateful for being housed, fed, healthy, and loved. And, I’ve only been at this for two months, not two years. Yes, I’m lucky, for now.
Yet, “Living in a van, down by the river” is threatening to become the punchline to my life, but the joke is no longer funny.
I arrived home from Geneva and my internship with UNHCR finally feeling I wanted to settle in somewhere and give my all to an organization and a community. To be a part of something. To nurture some projects and positive change.
“You’ll have a job by your birthday,” my mother said, not long after I arrived.
My birthday is in less than two weeks. Her tone and projections have shifted.
“It’ll just take time,” she says now when my frustration shows.
I don’t mean to wallow. It drags me down that along with me, several really great friends that graduated with me are in the same boat. Energy, good intentions, compassion and brains going to waste. I know millions are wedged in the dinghy, with more trying to climb aboard every day, and the creaky thing is still taking on water.
“Now I’m worried because the August graduates are about to be unleashed on the job market,” wrote one friend in an email, describing his job search as "soul-crushing."
Another classmate posted a comment about only receiving two almost interviews out of 45 applications. “It’s all who you know,” she wrote.
Experience + graduate degree = good job.
The jig is up. The old formulas no longer compute. Hunker down and shelter in place.
At my school, my concentration within social work is known as Community and Administrative Leadership, CAL for short, which means everything from public policy to nonprofit management to community work. What I don’t have is a Clinical background, the other side of social work, meaning mental health and counseling. Not my area of interest or expertise and it would be negligent for me to even try to fill such a position.
I interned for a year at Travis County as a social worker intern and my role was to work with clients who had seen a caseworker for direct assistance with rent and utilities. I didn’t write checks, much to many people’s dismay and confusion, but I could help them enroll in assistance programs, refer them to other community services, and just hear them out for an hour. It wasn’t at all what I had hoped to do with my experience and degree. It was frustrating enough to hand over the phone number for Section 8 to a client, knowing full well how ridiculously long the waiting list is. As with so much of our assistance network in this country, I might help them maintain, but never really recover their footing. It was a difficult year, but I did help some folks, gained new skills, and was well-reviewed by colleagues and superiors.
After receiving no word back on my initial applications for non-profits, I branched out to vacancy announcements for social worker positions, assuming I had the education and experience necessary. Unfortunately, announcements for every Social Worker position I have so far seen emphasize the need for clinical experience and include counseling or mental health treatment as part of the job responsibilities. I'm a bit confused as to how a social worker can't get a social worker job, but there you have it.
Social work seemed a good choice for someone wanting to advance as a do-gooder. I wanted to work for positive change in communities and throw my activist mentality and skills at meaningful work. The social work profession supposedly keeps person at the heart of all efforts. I had seen too many projects and programs that have lost sight of people or never even bothered with them in the first place. Social justice is also supposed to be a cornerstone of the profession, which certainly suited me. A degree in social work was touted as something I could use in a multitude of ways.
Thing is, I ended up with an awful lot of questions: What happened to meso- and macro-? Why was poverty never mentioned in my program, save one class, in a substantive manner? Why are we dealing with symptoms and not solutions? Systemic change, anyone?
“Sometimes, you know, you get busy with work and life and you have to just put that social justice thing down,” said one girl during an open discussion on the first day of our practice seminar, a course that would run concurrently with our year-long first internship.
“I’m sorry,” I said, “but then I call bullshit and you are not a social worker.”
Well, I did say it gently.
My experience, so far, has left me feeling that whatever it is we define as social work, at least in this country, is not about change, but maintenance of the status quo. I better understand why Alinsky, bless him, couldn't stand social workers. It’s a shame, really, because I have friends in the program, both Clinical and CAL, who want to do so much more and who are just as sharp and rebellious-minded as Saul. We just chose to invest in a system that I believe no longer values such spirit. What would Jane Adams do, indeed?
I tried to describe the feeling once by saying I'd never felt more a part of The System or The Man (or however you want to phrase it) as I did during my graduate education. It wasn’t an education rich with critical thinking, it was a training regiment, and I’m not sure at the moment what it prepared me for. Yes, I could have left when my doubts reared up after a year, but then I would have been stuck with too many credits to transfer to another degree, the prospect of starting from scratch carrying a significant existing loan debt. And calling for change was like shouting into the wind.
It's a lousy time to have a degree that you have to explain to people. I saw an article recently that asked the question, “Should you be able to sue for an inadequate education?” Basically, should you be able to recoup your money if you’re not happy with the product. Interesting question. At the least, how do you define ‘inadequate’?
But that’s all passed and no going back. So, what now? Well, I’ll keep looking, sending my CV to the farthest reaches and every friend and family member I can. Finding a job is, indeed, a full-time job. I’m applying to work as a substitute teacher for the coming school year. I’m gauging where to begin volunteering my time in the community. Reconnecting with a few old friends. Trying to stay fit and healthy. Thankfully, as Billy Bragg notes, the beach is still free and I'm soaking in the sea most evenings to try to quiet my mind.
Just as important, if not more so, I am finally back to personal practices of writing and photography, working on projects I’ve neglected for far too long. I am extraordinarily thankful to find a haven in both. I'll start sharing more of that as I go, whether you want it or not.
I'm not just worried about me though. As a country, we have forgotten that things like roads, firemen, libraries, schools and sidewalks cost money. We've forgotten where the money for those things comes from. We've forgotten that nobody in their right mind goes into teaching to get rich. True, it's not a calling for everyone, but when teachers become public enemy #1, when science and knowledge are vilified like witchcraft, when compassion and calls for equality (or even simple tolerance) are shouted down, we've really gone round the bend as a society and I'm not sure how we get back because, most importantly, we've totally jettisoned the idea of working together and compromise in favor of a scorched Earth approach. The truth is that nobody ever wins those scenarios. Civility is passe. We could all use a refresher run through of Kindergarten: share, work together, inside voice, compromise, don’t eat paste. Do not try to tell me some people out there don’t act like their dipping into the Elmer’s a bit too often. If we don’t climb out of our trenches soon, I’m not sure what’ll be left and that’s heartbreaking here in the 21st century. This was the future once, the glorious, shining chrome future. The shine is certainly off though.
I haven't given up on the world yet. I can't. When I've tried it never lasts long. I am willing to throw in and work with anyone who wants to make things better for the majority for who the world just doesn't work.Anyone. Well, provided their idea of debate isn't shouting into somebody's face from a distance of a half-inch. I’m not sure what you’ll see from me here moving forward. I’ll keep writing, maybe you’ll keep reading, and hopefully you’ll speak up.
Peace/سلام
28 May, 2011
And arriving from way out in left field...
Mind blown from: Doctor Who, "The Almost People" (Thank you, Interwebs!)
Working on: Final touches of my final draft of my project report for UNHCR
Worried about: When everybody else at HQ gets to make changes to said report
Listening to: Gil Scott Heron (R.I.P.)
Huh. So. Uuuummm....
This showed up in my inbox late yesterday:
"Several weeks ago, you should have received a hard copy letter from my office indicating that you were named an alternate for an award to Jordan. While your alternate status for that country has not changed, I got word from my colleagues at the U.S. Department of State about a grant opportunity in Tunisia that’s recently opened. In looking through the applications of the remaining alternate candidates for the Near East/North Africa region, they felt that your project might be one that could be workable/transferable to this new location. While the Fulbright program is not able to actually offer you a grant at this time, I wanted to ask whether you’d at least be amenable to having your application considered for Tunisia?"
I of course told them to chuck my chapeau right into that Tunisian ring.Vive le chaos!
Speaking with Fulbright folks after the holiday weekend to try to figure out what's what with all this. More news to follow soon.
Peace/سلام
Working on: Final touches of my final draft of my project report for UNHCR
Worried about: When everybody else at HQ gets to make changes to said report
Listening to: Gil Scott Heron (R.I.P.)
Huh. So. Uuuummm....
This showed up in my inbox late yesterday:
"Several weeks ago, you should have received a hard copy letter from my office indicating that you were named an alternate for an award to Jordan. While your alternate status for that country has not changed, I got word from my colleagues at the U.S. Department of State about a grant opportunity in Tunisia that’s recently opened. In looking through the applications of the remaining alternate candidates for the Near East/North Africa region, they felt that your project might be one that could be workable/transferable to this new location. While the Fulbright program is not able to actually offer you a grant at this time, I wanted to ask whether you’d at least be amenable to having your application considered for Tunisia?"
I of course told them to chuck my chapeau right into that Tunisian ring.Vive le chaos!
Speaking with Fulbright folks after the holiday weekend to try to figure out what's what with all this. More news to follow soon.
Peace/سلام
25 May, 2011
The weather is here, I wish you were beautiful
*Title of post borrowed from a good ol' Buffett song*
Reading: Celebration by Harry Crews
Listening to: My ocean & the wind in the palms
Things are ending and hopefully some beginnings are around the corner.
I've been home in Florida for about three weeks now. The first week or so was spent trying to putting together a full draft of the report on my UNHCR project. Now I'm waiting to get that back from the colleagues in the Staff Welfare Section so we can get the final draft put to bed next week. I'm still following up with participants, staff members and families, to thank them for their time and input. Given organizational culture and that no one from the organization has ever reached out to families in a coordinated way, I'm truly thankful at the overwhelming candor and willingness to believe in the possibility of positive change.
I'm officially a graduate of graduate school, a master of social work. And when you finish something, anything, everyone's immediate question is, "What's next?" Oh, it's like being 18 all over again. What am I going to do with the rest of my life? *groan*
First task: getting sorted with regards to my loans. I was lucky enough to avoid loan debt as an undergrad and I now understand how that debt must be a massive determinant for young people finishing their bachelor's degree. It's certainly weighing on my mind as I start looking for a job. Granted my total debt is about as much as a year's tuition at some private universities, but it's still significant and carrying any debt makes for an uncomfortable situation.
Second task: Finding employment. Despite the feelings of panic that rear up now and then, stopping me cold, I am trying to think tactically about my next moves. I'm starting locally and working out. The trick is, I don't fit well into people's boxes or ideas about careers paths and job descriptions. I would like to recommit to my home state, stick around to lend my skills & energy to try to turn the place around (at least a bit), but that depends on finding the right job with the right folks and may just come down to finding a job period. In addition to applying for jobs, I'm starting to reach out to people who are involved in interesting, dynamic things to try to engage them in conversation.
In between all that, I'm taking time to soak in my ocean, spend time with friends and family, and get back into a real practice of writing and photographing.
So, again, bear with me.
Everything's still in flux, though I'm not sure things ever really settle down.
Peace/سلام
Reading: Celebration by Harry Crews
Listening to: My ocean & the wind in the palms
Things are ending and hopefully some beginnings are around the corner.
I've been home in Florida for about three weeks now. The first week or so was spent trying to putting together a full draft of the report on my UNHCR project. Now I'm waiting to get that back from the colleagues in the Staff Welfare Section so we can get the final draft put to bed next week. I'm still following up with participants, staff members and families, to thank them for their time and input. Given organizational culture and that no one from the organization has ever reached out to families in a coordinated way, I'm truly thankful at the overwhelming candor and willingness to believe in the possibility of positive change.
I'm officially a graduate of graduate school, a master of social work. And when you finish something, anything, everyone's immediate question is, "What's next?" Oh, it's like being 18 all over again. What am I going to do with the rest of my life? *groan*
First task: getting sorted with regards to my loans. I was lucky enough to avoid loan debt as an undergrad and I now understand how that debt must be a massive determinant for young people finishing their bachelor's degree. It's certainly weighing on my mind as I start looking for a job. Granted my total debt is about as much as a year's tuition at some private universities, but it's still significant and carrying any debt makes for an uncomfortable situation.
Second task: Finding employment. Despite the feelings of panic that rear up now and then, stopping me cold, I am trying to think tactically about my next moves. I'm starting locally and working out. The trick is, I don't fit well into people's boxes or ideas about careers paths and job descriptions. I would like to recommit to my home state, stick around to lend my skills & energy to try to turn the place around (at least a bit), but that depends on finding the right job with the right folks and may just come down to finding a job period. In addition to applying for jobs, I'm starting to reach out to people who are involved in interesting, dynamic things to try to engage them in conversation.
In between all that, I'm taking time to soak in my ocean, spend time with friends and family, and get back into a real practice of writing and photographing.
So, again, bear with me.
Everything's still in flux, though I'm not sure things ever really settle down.
Peace/سلام
24 April, 2011
Quick hit dans Paris
Busy time of transition. I'm in Paris at the moment, in the last full day of a fabulous 10-day break before heading back to the New World. I leave Geneva on 29 April, bound for Florida. And I have to catch a train back to Geneva on Monday. And we wrap my final course of graduate school on Mon night. And I have to pack. And I have to wrap up things at UNHCR HQ. So, be patient. I promise many more posts ahead in coming weeks; I've a lot to process and whatnot (and not just data for the UNHCR project).
Bon soir, y'all.
Bon soir, y'all.
27 March, 2011
Reading is good for you. Go read this.
Wow.
Not the blog post to read to lift my spirits, given I just rang up my student loan totals. Times like this I need more interesting vices or something. However, I think this post relates to anyone out there looking to combine activism and work. It certainly hit home for me as I start the terrifying post-grad school job search. And it relates to my thoughts and criticisms on activism, the social work profession (as seen through my educational experience) and how I feel getting ready to be spat out of grad school as unsure as when I started. Yet, more pissed off. So, there's that. That post will come soon enough, when I've got a bit more bandwidth...and my very expensive piece of paper in my hands.
Anyway, please do read When the Movement Disappoints by Steph over at Feministe (read through the comments, too).
Peace/سلام
Not the blog post to read to lift my spirits, given I just rang up my student loan totals. Times like this I need more interesting vices or something. However, I think this post relates to anyone out there looking to combine activism and work. It certainly hit home for me as I start the terrifying post-grad school job search. And it relates to my thoughts and criticisms on activism, the social work profession (as seen through my educational experience) and how I feel getting ready to be spat out of grad school as unsure as when I started. Yet, more pissed off. So, there's that. That post will come soon enough, when I've got a bit more bandwidth...and my very expensive piece of paper in my hands.
Anyway, please do read When the Movement Disappoints by Steph over at Feministe (read through the comments, too).
Peace/سلام
19 March, 2011
Sea change & Spillover
"I was surprised by your email," the colleague, an alum of my grad program, said over the phone earlier this week. "It sounds like you're just packing up and going home."
She had called to let me know that lunch for later in the week was off. She was being sent for a training that she had tried, without luck, to get out of. I had already offered to help out her husband with babysitting over the weekend. A gal's gotta make money somehow and I like their kids.
At the end the end of my email to her confirming my availability, I wrote that I would likely be gone by June 1, seeing no feasible way or justifiable reason to stay through June with student loans coming due and gainful employment needing to be found.
On the phone that night she sounded concerned and somewhat insistent, asking if there was any way I could stay, any way the organization could keep me on, had I asked around. I told her the answer was no, to the best of my knowledge.
"But there should be demand for somebody with your background and who speaks Arabic," she said and insisted I talk to her husband, who works for an NGO, this weekend. I did add that my Arabic is not fluent, but she insisted intermediate is better than none.
My section chief keeps insisting they are thrilled with my work and "you are welcome to stay as long as you like." She tells me having an experienced professional working for free can only benefit them, so it is a rather sweet deal. I appreciate the sentiment, but it just leaves me giggling to myself a bit. There's no way I could possibly stay, barring adoption by a patron or the offer of a paycheck. U.N. rules are that you can't so much as offer a consultancy to an intern for 6 months, much less a job. There may be other possibilities, but there are bigger issues for me at the moment.
You could sum things up in a word: spillover.
This project for my internship - essentially a needs assessment of international staff families, though people keep insisting they don't want to call it such - has been great in many ways. First and foremost, the chance to talk with and help share the stories of an interesting and diverse group of families and people. It's been a professional, challenging task that plays on several strengths of mine. I am forever thankful that it wasn't me sitting at a desk passing time, forced into a role that simply did not suit or benefit, waiting for people to show up.
However, you cannot listen to these stories and not have it impact you somehow. The effect of the project on me has been a serious bout of self-reflection and reconsideration of a lot of things I assumed were important in life. This is not a bad thing. I would argue vociferously that you can only help others to the extent that you yourself are working from a healthy, whole place.
For years I've been on the go, hopping continents and new experiences. It's been interesting, fun at times, horrible at others. I've learned a ton, made wonderful friends, and had amazing experiences. Trick is, I let a lot of things go in pursuit of something I wasn't real sure of. In career management speak, I've not been living my values.
"At some point you get tired of moving around, you just end up comparing one place to the last place, but you look around and you've lost all your connections to home and you're in a spot where you can really leave the pension and benefits," said one person I interviewed.
What I was tasked with may be program development, but it's also been talking with people about a lot of pain, sadness, and frustration. It's reminded me so much of work with marginalized communities, where a group has decisions made for them and is given no means of providing input, often with dire consequences.I'm thankful for the opportunity and for the openess and candor of those I've spoken to. At this point, I really feel my commitment is to them, to try to accurately convey their lives and stories in a way that might be taken up and considered by the agency.
Last week I booked a ticket back to the U.S.: Zurich to Miami. Cheap ticket on a German low-cost airline. I may have to stand in the aisle or sit on the wing, but I've got an iPod and can bring my own peanuts. Luckily, I was able to cancel at the last minute.
When I told my direct supervisor that I'd booked she seemed surprised. "So you will be staying through May?" she asked."Well, I thought we'd agreed I would leave at the end of May," I said."If you will have completed the hours your department requires and if after Paris you will just be writing the report, I thought you would finish that at home," she said. "That way you save money, can start looking for work, it will be less stress for you..."I told her I wasn't sure and she said I would just have to let her and our section chief know by this Friday.
This week I took them up on the offer. I leave Geneva on 29 April, having managed to find a ticket from Geneva and on real airlines, headed back to my home state of Florida for the time being. I am committed to crafting a strong, quality report. I can help finish it during review and revisions, but the actual final product ans what anyone here does with it is out of my hands. I think some space and sunshine will help in the writing process. The preliminary draft of the report is due 6 May and the final draft, at least what I'll be producing, is due on 20 May. And then that's that.
The inevitable question is "What now?" A liberating, exciting, and terrifying question all at once.Things are popping in my mind, but I barely have the headspace to make a grocery list at the minute. Let me focus on finishing my interviews, my break in Paris, and getting myself back stateside before I even try to answer. I'm sure I'll ruminate on the matter here before then, but give me some leeway, please.
Peace/سلام
She had called to let me know that lunch for later in the week was off. She was being sent for a training that she had tried, without luck, to get out of. I had already offered to help out her husband with babysitting over the weekend. A gal's gotta make money somehow and I like their kids.
At the end the end of my email to her confirming my availability, I wrote that I would likely be gone by June 1, seeing no feasible way or justifiable reason to stay through June with student loans coming due and gainful employment needing to be found.
On the phone that night she sounded concerned and somewhat insistent, asking if there was any way I could stay, any way the organization could keep me on, had I asked around. I told her the answer was no, to the best of my knowledge.
"But there should be demand for somebody with your background and who speaks Arabic," she said and insisted I talk to her husband, who works for an NGO, this weekend. I did add that my Arabic is not fluent, but she insisted intermediate is better than none.
My section chief keeps insisting they are thrilled with my work and "you are welcome to stay as long as you like." She tells me having an experienced professional working for free can only benefit them, so it is a rather sweet deal. I appreciate the sentiment, but it just leaves me giggling to myself a bit. There's no way I could possibly stay, barring adoption by a patron or the offer of a paycheck. U.N. rules are that you can't so much as offer a consultancy to an intern for 6 months, much less a job. There may be other possibilities, but there are bigger issues for me at the moment.
You could sum things up in a word: spillover.
This project for my internship - essentially a needs assessment of international staff families, though people keep insisting they don't want to call it such - has been great in many ways. First and foremost, the chance to talk with and help share the stories of an interesting and diverse group of families and people. It's been a professional, challenging task that plays on several strengths of mine. I am forever thankful that it wasn't me sitting at a desk passing time, forced into a role that simply did not suit or benefit, waiting for people to show up.
However, you cannot listen to these stories and not have it impact you somehow. The effect of the project on me has been a serious bout of self-reflection and reconsideration of a lot of things I assumed were important in life. This is not a bad thing. I would argue vociferously that you can only help others to the extent that you yourself are working from a healthy, whole place.
For years I've been on the go, hopping continents and new experiences. It's been interesting, fun at times, horrible at others. I've learned a ton, made wonderful friends, and had amazing experiences. Trick is, I let a lot of things go in pursuit of something I wasn't real sure of. In career management speak, I've not been living my values.
"At some point you get tired of moving around, you just end up comparing one place to the last place, but you look around and you've lost all your connections to home and you're in a spot where you can really leave the pension and benefits," said one person I interviewed.
What I was tasked with may be program development, but it's also been talking with people about a lot of pain, sadness, and frustration. It's reminded me so much of work with marginalized communities, where a group has decisions made for them and is given no means of providing input, often with dire consequences.I'm thankful for the opportunity and for the openess and candor of those I've spoken to. At this point, I really feel my commitment is to them, to try to accurately convey their lives and stories in a way that might be taken up and considered by the agency.
Last week I booked a ticket back to the U.S.: Zurich to Miami. Cheap ticket on a German low-cost airline. I may have to stand in the aisle or sit on the wing, but I've got an iPod and can bring my own peanuts. Luckily, I was able to cancel at the last minute.
When I told my direct supervisor that I'd booked she seemed surprised. "So you will be staying through May?" she asked."Well, I thought we'd agreed I would leave at the end of May," I said."If you will have completed the hours your department requires and if after Paris you will just be writing the report, I thought you would finish that at home," she said. "That way you save money, can start looking for work, it will be less stress for you..."I told her I wasn't sure and she said I would just have to let her and our section chief know by this Friday.
This week I took them up on the offer. I leave Geneva on 29 April, having managed to find a ticket from Geneva and on real airlines, headed back to my home state of Florida for the time being. I am committed to crafting a strong, quality report. I can help finish it during review and revisions, but the actual final product ans what anyone here does with it is out of my hands. I think some space and sunshine will help in the writing process. The preliminary draft of the report is due 6 May and the final draft, at least what I'll be producing, is due on 20 May. And then that's that.
The inevitable question is "What now?" A liberating, exciting, and terrifying question all at once.Things are popping in my mind, but I barely have the headspace to make a grocery list at the minute. Let me focus on finishing my interviews, my break in Paris, and getting myself back stateside before I even try to answer. I'm sure I'll ruminate on the matter here before then, but give me some leeway, please.
Peace/سلام
05 March, 2011
Ch-ch-changes
Not a Bowie fan? *hurumph* Shame on you.
You may notice tweaks to the blog in coming weeks. Just a long overdue revamp and who knows what else.
One thing I'm considering is dropping the blogger name I've used since starting the blog way back in ye olden times of 2006. Not sure why I ever used one since it's not like I'm dishing state secrets. And it's not like if you wanted to know who I am you couldn't find out.
Part of me loves my unofficial title, granted by my ex-husband, and part of me now finds having a pen name a bit silly. Mostly I'd hate giving it up because I love the Amazigh culture and mythology tied to the name. Who doesn't love being tagged an ogre by their husband?
Anyway, we'll see...
You may notice tweaks to the blog in coming weeks. Just a long overdue revamp and who knows what else.
One thing I'm considering is dropping the blogger name I've used since starting the blog way back in ye olden times of 2006. Not sure why I ever used one since it's not like I'm dishing state secrets. And it's not like if you wanted to know who I am you couldn't find out.
Part of me loves my unofficial title, granted by my ex-husband, and part of me now finds having a pen name a bit silly. Mostly I'd hate giving it up because I love the Amazigh culture and mythology tied to the name. Who doesn't love being tagged an ogre by their husband?
Anyway, we'll see...
Peace/سلام
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