Oh gosh, I don’t know. Physics? I certainly don’t understand physics…or…chemistry…or calculus.
Here’s to the scientists and engineers. May they use their powerful brains for good not evil.
“For better or worse, we’re all living in Oppenheimer’s world.” ~Cillian Murphy
As a recently-retired GenX elder (born in 1965–the first official GenX year), I am going to use this prompt to tell you a couple of stories about how we did things at my first job. You will probably find these stories boring, but that’s life. Older people will tell you their stories (repeatedly), regardless of their audience’s level of interest.
In the late 1980s, we had computers on our desks but no email or internet. So, if you wanted to put something into writing for others to see, you had to type it up in a Word document and then print it out on a ridiculously slow printer. “Memos” were written up like business e-mails are today, with the date (which you had to figure out yourself—people were always putting the wrong year on their memos in January and February), a “TO” line, a “FROM” line, a “SUBJECT” line, and a “CC” line. After you wrote and printed your memo, you had to initial it and then make Xeroxes (old timers called them “mimeographs”). Then you ran around the office, leaving your memo on peoples’ desks. As you can imagine, memos were used strictly for covering your ass, because otherwise, you’d just tell your co-workers whatever you wanted them to know.
Some people (me included) spent a great deal of time chit-chatting with co-workers throughout the day. One guy I worked with “made the rounds” ALL afternoon. After lunch, he went from office to office, desk to desk, cubicle to cubicle, trading information and gossip. He knew everything about everyone, which was very valuable back then. One person that everyone knew they needed to be liked by was the boss’s assistant (we called them secretaries back then). If the boss’s secretary didn’t like you, you were fucked. I once made the HUGE mistake of taking the boss’s secretary’s gift away from her during a Yankee Swap holiday gift exchange (which was my right, per the rules of the game). It was a salad spinner and I wanted it, but so did she! It took me months to get back on her good side. The so-called “soft skills” (reading a room, communicating, putting people at ease, small talk, empathy) were very important back then. Excel spreadsheets were non-existent.
So that’s how we rolled in the late 1980s…and don’t call me Boomer.
I was good at saying “no” to things for many years, especially volunteer roles in my church and in the schools. I had too much going on with the kids and work. I did my part for various fundraisers and events, but I wasn’t one to get roped into running the whole thing. In fact, a woman once told me she admired my ability to say “no.” (possibly a backhanded compliment)
Now that I’m retired (there, I said it) I’m ready to say “yes” to more things, especially if it’s something fun. Kudos to my husband, who is still working, but says “yes” to quite a few of my proposals. He doesn’t agree to everything I want to do together, but I’d estimate that he says “yes” 75% of the time. For example, we went and saw ALL TEN Best Picture nominees before the Oscar broadcast. And he’s been especially good about visiting museums with me. (He likes museums too, but it’s a bit more of a sacrifice for him to make the time to go.)
On Saturday, we went to a very cool exhibit at Boston’s Museum of Fine Arts about Hallyu (Korean Wave)—the surge of popular culture from South Korea that started with K-drama and cinema in the 90s and then spread across the globe with K-pop and its massive fandoms in the mid 2000s. K-beauty and fashion has also been a huge cultural export and Korean designers’ work was on display. After that, we went to a Korean restaurant to round out the K-culture experience.
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I think the difficult word in this prompt is “secret.” I have a couple of skills that I like to brag about and/or show off, with baton twirling being the most impressive. I can also sing a very high note, when called for. For example, my choir was asked to perform “Bohemian Rhapsody” at a memorial service last year and someone had to sing that very high note (you know the one). It’s a high B-flat. Welp, I fucking nailed it. (And yes, there is a video, but the fact that it was a funeral prevents me from posting it.)
So clearly, modesty is not keeping me from sharing any other exciting skills with the world. If I could choose a new skill to secretly have, it’d probably be clairvoyance. Sometimes, I’d like to know what’s going to happen ahead of time so I wouldn’t worry so much.
Sun makes all the difference, right? Cold and gray is so much worse than cold and sunny. I know one family that left Seattle (including a tenured academic position) after 10+ years, due to the infrequency of sunny days. I’ve never been to Seattle, but that does sound rough.
New England winters are LONG. It’s best to break it up with a trip south, if possible. For years, Orlando (Florida) was our top family destination for school vacation weeks. My sister-in-law lives there, so we’ve been many times. Don’t knock Orlando ‘til you’ve tried it. They’ve got something for everyone.
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That was nice when Billie Eilish thanked her choir teachers at the Oscars when she won Best Song for “What was I Made For” from Barbie.
I had great choir teachers all through junior high and high school. Ms. Glinka was 7th grade. It was 1978 and she was my first-ever “Ms.” It took some getting used to (to call a teacher MIZZ, when we’d only ever had a Miss or Missus). Ms. Glinka was a cool, modern woman who wore dangly earrings. Her main influence on me was that she loved The Beatles and taught us their music. I specifically remember singing When I’m Sixty-Four and Ob-La-Di Ob-La-Da in her class. Whoever introduces you to The Beatles shall never be forgotten. Am I right? Thanks Ms. Glinka. You rocked.
8th grade was Mrs. Nolan. She was married to Mr. Nolan, who also taught at the school. Mrs. Nolan was a bit more traditional than Ms. Glinka, but also great. She liked Irish/Celtic music. She taught us All Around My Hat by Steeleye Span, which I loved singing. I still sing it to this day and attempted to teach it to my kids.
Finally, in high school, we had Mr. Phinney. He was a legend in my town. A tall, demanding, sexist, old-school choirmaster, Mr. Phinney presided over the music wing of the school with his equally-powerful counterpart—the Band Director, Mr. Toland. As a majorette (baton twirler) for the marching band, I worked with Mr. Toland as well. If they liked you, you were all set. Fortunately, they liked me, so I had a TON of fun performing in high school ensembles, musical productions, and twirling my baton with the marching band. My best friends came from those circles, two of whom are still close friends of mine.
Although I did not became a professional musician, music is an important part of my life, especially singing with others.
Thank you to my public school music teachers.
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A wonderful gentleman from my UU church, Ron, leads a monthly Sacred Circle Dance for the community, which I recently started participating in again. (I’d done it a few times when I was working, but I didn’t make it a point to go. Now I do.)
Dancing is fun, people! I had forgotten. I wish I did it more, but at least I do it some.
Ron is a retired gay man who absolutely loves leading dance circles. He has studied it extensively and traveled to many places (including Mexico) to learn new dances and attend workshops.
Our dance circle lasts two hours and Ron incorporates both folk dances as well as more modern dances. Ron teaches us the steps before each dance. He uses recorded music and always provides context for the cultures from which the folk dances come. Last time, our dances included a Coptic Greek dance and a dance in celebration of Women’s History Month to Peter Gabriel’s Shaking the Tree.
The steps are never too hard. Mistakes are fine. It’s not about performance at all. It’s about mind-body-spirit awareness, connection, and fun.
Happy Women’s History Month
Shaking the Tree (lyrics)
Songwriters: Peter Gabriel / Youssou N’Dour
Souma Yergon, Sou Nou Yergon
We are shakin’ the tree
Souma Yergon, Sou Nou Yergon
We are shakin’ the tree
Waiting your time, dreaming of a better life
Waiting your time, you’re more than just a wife
You don’t have to do what your mother has done
She has done, this is your life, this new life has begun
It’s your day, a woman’s day
It’s your day, a woman’s day
Souma Yergon, Sou Nou Yergon
We are shakin’ the tree
Souma Yergon, Sou Nou Yergon
We are shakin’ the tree
Turning the tide, you are on the incoming wave
Turning the tide, you know you are nobody’s slave
Find your sisters or brothers who can hear all the truth in what you say
They can support you when you’re on your way
It’s your day, a woman’s day
It’s your day, a woman’s day
Souma Yergon, Sou Nou Yergon
We are shakin’ the tree
Souma Yergon, Sou Nou Yergon
We are shakin’ the tree
Changing your ways, changing those surrounding you
Changing your ways, more than any man can do
Open your heart, show him the anger and pain, so you heal
Maybe he’s looking for his womanly side, let him feel
You had to be so strong
And you do nothing wrong, nothing wrong at all
We’re gonna break it down
We’re gonna shake it down, shake it all around
No no no no no no
No no no no no no
No no no no no no
It’s your day, a woman’s day
It’s your day, a woman’s day
It’s your day, a woman’s day
It’s your day, a woman’s day
You had to be so strong
You do nothing wrong, nothing wrong at all
We’re gonna break it down
We’re gonna shake it down, shake it all around
I’m not into tattoos. They’re so…permanent.
Related post:
If I were describing myself to someone who doesn’t know me, but had to pick me up at the airport, I’d say: I’m a tall woman with a red (or whatever color) shirt or jacket.
I’m 5 ft 8.5 in, so I’m not WNBA tall, but I’m taller than most women and some men. I usually avoid wearing heels, wedges, or stacked shoes. I don’t like towering over people.
Two places I’ve visited where I did not feel particularly tall are Chicago and Helsinki (Finland). Are they taller in the Midwest and Scandinavia? Maybe.
Specific compliments are nice.
When I left my job in November, I got a lot of the usual stuff (“it’s been great working with you, you’ll be missed,” etc), but a few people reached out with specific compliments that I truly appreciated. One of my colleagues from way back wrote: “I’m so glad we worked together in my early career. I learned a lot from you that I still use.” This woman is now the Executive Director of a terrific nonprofit organization, so I was very happy to hear that I had taught her a useful thing or two.
I try to pay others specific compliments when I can. I think people like to know that they’ve somehow made a difference.
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