17 September 2009
Last weekend we drove up Mt. Evans
Photos progress as we went up the mountain and down about 40 degrees Fahrenheit.
12 September 2009
8 years later
Yesterday the 9/11 anniversary hit me a little differently than it had in past years. I think because as I drove to work, I listened to NPR coverage of President Obama giving his memorial speech, and September 11, 2001 seemed like so much longer ago than when Bush was still president. Listening to coverage of a different president memorializing in his own way, in his own tone, struck me somehow.
On September 11, 2001, I was a 14-year-old high school freshman. I heard the news over the intercom while taking a test in my second-hour theatre class. I was reasonably politically aware at the time, having followed the 2000 election. As I watched TV and listened to radio that day and that week, I was deeply troubled not only by the tragedy of senseless deaths but also by the rampant patriotism that followed immediately. I watched President Bush speak that week and I knew that the violence, the tragedy America had experienced would only be forced onto others.
I reacted very strongly against that. As America became cohesive in a way I'd never experienced, I ran from the cohesion. I hated President Bush. I hated Americans for their flag-waving and racism and war-drum-beating. I stopped saying the Pledge of Allegiance and turned my back on flag when the National Anthem was sung. I even stopped wearing red shirts with jeans lest my outfit be confused for patriotism.
I remember hearing when the attacks on Afghanistan began. I didn't cry on 9/11, although I was shocked and upset. I cried on March 19, 2003, when the US invaded Iraq. I was in the car on the way home from church when the news came onto the radio.
I grew up, and remain, Mennonite. My religious background is deeply rooted in pacifism and is opposed to nationalism, giving allegiance only to God. I didn't have a reason to own those beliefs until 9/11 and the aftermath. For the first time, the values of peace and peacemaking meant something, and my church's rejection of nationalism made sense. The US was the victim of a senseless act of violence, and it perpetuated that violence. I knew it was laughably unrealistic to expect the government to undertake a peacemaking process in the aftermath of a terrorist attack, but I wished.
9/11 opened my eyes in a lot of ways. I radicalized in response, and while the radicalization has been tempered, the critical thinking and the willingness to hold an unpopular opinion because I believe it's right remain intact.
8 years later, my faith means a lot more to me. So does my country. I still won't pledge my allegiance to the flag or to the republic for which it stands, because even if my allegiance isn't entirely with God, I sure want it to be. But out of respect I'll stand and silently face the flag, hands by my sides, when the National Anthem is sung. I can silently face that flag knowing that it is the flag of a country that does a lot of things right and a lot of things wrong, but I can respect it. I can't reject everything about the US, because want it or not, it is my home and my culture, and there are good things about it. I can criticize, and reject, what I do not respect. I can make that distinction now.
On September 11, 2001, I was a 14-year-old high school freshman. I heard the news over the intercom while taking a test in my second-hour theatre class. I was reasonably politically aware at the time, having followed the 2000 election. As I watched TV and listened to radio that day and that week, I was deeply troubled not only by the tragedy of senseless deaths but also by the rampant patriotism that followed immediately. I watched President Bush speak that week and I knew that the violence, the tragedy America had experienced would only be forced onto others.
I reacted very strongly against that. As America became cohesive in a way I'd never experienced, I ran from the cohesion. I hated President Bush. I hated Americans for their flag-waving and racism and war-drum-beating. I stopped saying the Pledge of Allegiance and turned my back on flag when the National Anthem was sung. I even stopped wearing red shirts with jeans lest my outfit be confused for patriotism.
I remember hearing when the attacks on Afghanistan began. I didn't cry on 9/11, although I was shocked and upset. I cried on March 19, 2003, when the US invaded Iraq. I was in the car on the way home from church when the news came onto the radio.
I grew up, and remain, Mennonite. My religious background is deeply rooted in pacifism and is opposed to nationalism, giving allegiance only to God. I didn't have a reason to own those beliefs until 9/11 and the aftermath. For the first time, the values of peace and peacemaking meant something, and my church's rejection of nationalism made sense. The US was the victim of a senseless act of violence, and it perpetuated that violence. I knew it was laughably unrealistic to expect the government to undertake a peacemaking process in the aftermath of a terrorist attack, but I wished.
9/11 opened my eyes in a lot of ways. I radicalized in response, and while the radicalization has been tempered, the critical thinking and the willingness to hold an unpopular opinion because I believe it's right remain intact.
8 years later, my faith means a lot more to me. So does my country. I still won't pledge my allegiance to the flag or to the republic for which it stands, because even if my allegiance isn't entirely with God, I sure want it to be. But out of respect I'll stand and silently face the flag, hands by my sides, when the National Anthem is sung. I can silently face that flag knowing that it is the flag of a country that does a lot of things right and a lot of things wrong, but I can respect it. I can't reject everything about the US, because want it or not, it is my home and my culture, and there are good things about it. I can criticize, and reject, what I do not respect. I can make that distinction now.
10 September 2009
When that 2 a.m. phone call comes...
Last night at 2:01 a.m., my phone rang. It was Aimee, the new Collegian editor-in-chief, calling to ask how to send the finished file of the first issue of the year to the printer. It was 3 a.m. for her. I happily took her call; on my first night in her role, I left the journalism lab sometime after 4 a.m., having shed many tears of frustration (tears of any sort being a rarity for me) and made a 3 a.m. trip to Walmart for data discs.
But since time's passage has glazed over the misery of that night (and maybe I had a little bit of seasoned satisfaction with a twinge of schadenfreude at taking that call from my removed position and going right back to sleep), today I've been fondly remembering my two years as the Collegian's editor-in-chief.
When I graduated, I felt more or less satisfied to leave the Collegian behind me. Two years was an appropriate tenure as EIC. It took me at least a semester to get the hang of things and it wasn't until the final semester than I got weary, which gave me a solid year of competent, solid, enthusiastic leadership. I wish Aimee had two years to do the job, because quite frankly I think she has better drive behind her vision for the organization.
In that first year I developed what I believe are some kickass organizational management skills, but I am not a visionary--I am an innovator. My contribution to the betterment of the Collegian was more in the organization than the product. I improved and streamlined processes -- and in turn produced a more consistent quality of newspaper. Management was more interesting and fulfilling for me than journalism from the beginning, and while being editor gave me a sharper eye for good journalism, I didn't push the staff to do that; I pushed them to change patterns, be organized, be creative, develop their newswriting skills, turn things in on time, have lots of eyes see articles. And that's what I saw that they needed, especially the mostly freshman/sophomore '08-'09 staff. I turned over that staff to Aimee with few losses, and now she can push them to be better journalists and do the redesign that she's excited about, which has been a long time coming and which she can provide the appropriate guidance for (and I could not).
Joining the Collegian was one of the best choices I've made. Ever. I wanted to be on newspaper staff in high school but never did because I didn't think I'd have time. I was fortunate enough to choose a tiny little college where everyone gets the chance to be involved in anything, which for me meant ending up in charge of the student newspaper despite having no major or minor in Communication Arts or English. The Collegian made me more competent, more self-confident, more organized, more adept at using Mac OS, gave me an appreciation for print journalism, and taught me managerial skills.
I'd say the late nights were worth it.
But since time's passage has glazed over the misery of that night (and maybe I had a little bit of seasoned satisfaction with a twinge of schadenfreude at taking that call from my removed position and going right back to sleep), today I've been fondly remembering my two years as the Collegian's editor-in-chief.
When I graduated, I felt more or less satisfied to leave the Collegian behind me. Two years was an appropriate tenure as EIC. It took me at least a semester to get the hang of things and it wasn't until the final semester than I got weary, which gave me a solid year of competent, solid, enthusiastic leadership. I wish Aimee had two years to do the job, because quite frankly I think she has better drive behind her vision for the organization.
In that first year I developed what I believe are some kickass organizational management skills, but I am not a visionary--I am an innovator. My contribution to the betterment of the Collegian was more in the organization than the product. I improved and streamlined processes -- and in turn produced a more consistent quality of newspaper. Management was more interesting and fulfilling for me than journalism from the beginning, and while being editor gave me a sharper eye for good journalism, I didn't push the staff to do that; I pushed them to change patterns, be organized, be creative, develop their newswriting skills, turn things in on time, have lots of eyes see articles. And that's what I saw that they needed, especially the mostly freshman/sophomore '08-'09 staff. I turned over that staff to Aimee with few losses, and now she can push them to be better journalists and do the redesign that she's excited about, which has been a long time coming and which she can provide the appropriate guidance for (and I could not).
Joining the Collegian was one of the best choices I've made. Ever. I wanted to be on newspaper staff in high school but never did because I didn't think I'd have time. I was fortunate enough to choose a tiny little college where everyone gets the chance to be involved in anything, which for me meant ending up in charge of the student newspaper despite having no major or minor in Communication Arts or English. The Collegian made me more competent, more self-confident, more organized, more adept at using Mac OS, gave me an appreciation for print journalism, and taught me managerial skills.
I'd say the late nights were worth it.
08 September 2009
First Impressions
I started my new job a week ago, and I have some impressions and observations.
Overall, I feel fairly neutral about my job. I don't dislike it, but I don't love it either. I don't have to think very much during the day, which is why I think I feel a bit unfulfilled by it. I am learning, but I'm learning by repetition to complete tasks properly. I spend most of the day sitting at a desk either on the phone, checking patients in, or sorting documents into their proper places. I am still very much learning how to answer questions and where to sort things.
This means that the highlights of my days are when I do get to think. My favorite thing to do so far? Call patients with lab results. I can only call after a practitioner has looked at the results and made a note telling me what the results mean, but I make a point of understanding the information I'm telling a patient and how it relates to them. I usually look over the lab, take quick looks at Wikipedia and the patient's chart, and then look at the lab again. This way I'm able to anticipate questions and have answers ready. By doing this, I'm learning how to interpret lab results on my own -- although in this job I won't be able to do that officially.
Some observations about my job...
- Drug reps provide lunch almost every day. I'm not sure free catered lunch is worth having non-employees there at lunchtime though. They have to do their spiel, obviously, and while I do pay attention to what they say and what the doctor/NP/PA asks them, having them there keeps me from getting to know my colleagues. I am able to talk to the other receptionist, the HR/accounting guy, and the medical assistants during the day some, but I would really like to be able to have conversations at lunchtime.
- Everybody in the office has a few patients they like and don't like, and it really shows. It makes sense, I guess, as the patient and doctor's office have a long-standing relationship and so people know if the patient is friendly, punctual, reliable, follows medical advice, etc. I think most patients don't stand out to the people who work in the clinic, but there are a few that are either just really nice or really, really difficult to deal with. The nice ones are so much more likely to receive service that goes above and beyond what's expected. The rude ones get the same medical treatment as everyone else, I assume, but the minimal level of appropriate customer service.
- So many people don't seem to know what a PA (Physician Assistant) is! There are two who work at the office. There's also a Nurse Practitioner. Sometimes I talk to patients on the phone who get really indignant about coming in to see a PA, and I find it really annoying even though I know they just don't know what the profession is. The practical clinical differences between the MD, the NP, and the PAs are negligible. I think people don't realize that PAs are professional medical practitioners.
Overall, I feel fairly neutral about my job. I don't dislike it, but I don't love it either. I don't have to think very much during the day, which is why I think I feel a bit unfulfilled by it. I am learning, but I'm learning by repetition to complete tasks properly. I spend most of the day sitting at a desk either on the phone, checking patients in, or sorting documents into their proper places. I am still very much learning how to answer questions and where to sort things.
This means that the highlights of my days are when I do get to think. My favorite thing to do so far? Call patients with lab results. I can only call after a practitioner has looked at the results and made a note telling me what the results mean, but I make a point of understanding the information I'm telling a patient and how it relates to them. I usually look over the lab, take quick looks at Wikipedia and the patient's chart, and then look at the lab again. This way I'm able to anticipate questions and have answers ready. By doing this, I'm learning how to interpret lab results on my own -- although in this job I won't be able to do that officially.
Some observations about my job...
- Drug reps provide lunch almost every day. I'm not sure free catered lunch is worth having non-employees there at lunchtime though. They have to do their spiel, obviously, and while I do pay attention to what they say and what the doctor/NP/PA asks them, having them there keeps me from getting to know my colleagues. I am able to talk to the other receptionist, the HR/accounting guy, and the medical assistants during the day some, but I would really like to be able to have conversations at lunchtime.
- Everybody in the office has a few patients they like and don't like, and it really shows. It makes sense, I guess, as the patient and doctor's office have a long-standing relationship and so people know if the patient is friendly, punctual, reliable, follows medical advice, etc. I think most patients don't stand out to the people who work in the clinic, but there are a few that are either just really nice or really, really difficult to deal with. The nice ones are so much more likely to receive service that goes above and beyond what's expected. The rude ones get the same medical treatment as everyone else, I assume, but the minimal level of appropriate customer service.
- So many people don't seem to know what a PA (Physician Assistant) is! There are two who work at the office. There's also a Nurse Practitioner. Sometimes I talk to patients on the phone who get really indignant about coming in to see a PA, and I find it really annoying even though I know they just don't know what the profession is. The practical clinical differences between the MD, the NP, and the PAs are negligible. I think people don't realize that PAs are professional medical practitioners.
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