Going Public

Wednesday evening I was working late to meet a 9 am deadline the following morning. The Development Director (Paula) and I were the only ones in the office, so before I left, I popped my head in her office and chatted with her about the work I was doing. Our conversation strayed from work stuff and onto the sunset out her window, flying, 9/11 and what I'm doing after graduation.

[NOTE: When Paula started here three weeks ago, I knew I would be working with my potential boss, but shied away from telling her that I was interested in staying with the Partnership (and in what capacity) after the term ended. At that time, I was still wavering between going for an entry-level position and throwing all my efforts into the training for employment in the Development Department. I knew this question would eventually come from her through casual conversation or through my own formal declaration as soon as I gathered the courage. So when she asked me what I was doing after graduation, I didn't know what I was going to say until the words came out of my mouth.**]

I couldn't dance around making my decision any longer, and it felt dishonest and weak of character to plead the fifth. I opened my mouth and, with as much confidence as I could muster, started, "I've made it no secret around here that I want to stay with the Partnership after graduation..." and proceeded to decide and declare that I wanted to stay in the Development Department, in a communicative capacity, interested in Grant Writing, but knowing that I haven't the experience or training for the position, but that blah blah blah.

It's funny: I was almost completely comfortable in her presence, talking about inane topics, but once I announced my candidacy for new Development Associate, I suddenly felt a pang of insecurity, like the chair I was sitting in belonged to the interviewee and the desk I spoke across belonged to my potential employer. I became nervously aware of the stomping boots on my feet, cotton t-shirt around my torso and denim encasing my legs. I realised that, from this moment on, I was in a perpetual state of interviewing; that I now had expectations of me greater than I bargained for as an Intern, and thought, perhaps I should start dressing the part of a potential employee. But then I realised I have no wardrobe support the last thought and I don't really want to have said wardrobe, nor do I have the funding for it either.

However, my declaration was received with enthusiam and great interest. She immediately asked for a writing sample and offered to give me an 'assignment' in lieu of one.

Of course, this is all good news because: a) I made a decision, b) it was received well and c) I finally made a decision. My life post-graduation is beginning to take shape.


**NOTE for the NOTE: Some of my best life decisions are made at the most inopportune times.

I could just cry!

Oh, right. I did. :)

I've never had an anniversary, except the ones that everybody celebrates (the day of my birth, the day of Jesus's birth, the day of the Easter bunny's birth, the day of yer MOM's birth, etc.).

The date was officially this past Monday, but We've fallen on broke times and, out of necessity (and, perhaps, convenience orientation), decided not to do anything for it. In fact, except for her reminding me about it last week and then me remembering it with a fleeting, "Happy Anniversary, Baby!" Monday morning in mass transit, the date came and went unnoticed.

So when I jumped off the can tonight and walked into the kitchen and found the display, I was shyly surprised. I knew exactly what it was for, but acted like I didn't.

She in all her modesty and me in all my gushing gratitude. What a pair we are.

Some People Just Let You Down.

I walked roughly two hours and easily two or three miles last night. In search of homeless people. I found a bunch of crack houses and a group of teenage boys huddled together, slowly walking up and down the same block repeatedly. And I saw one homeless guy getting onto a bus, but we weren't supposed to stop people in transit (because they're not from that neighborhood; skews the geographic distribution.)

YorkU* counted no homeless. As the night went on, I became grumpy about the fact that we were walking around in circles NOT counting anybody. What a paradox: I was disappointed because we didn't find anybody sleeping on the streets. Everyone in that neighborhood had a home. Damn it.

*Our group 'codename'

Being Alive Together

Today Anna and I went to listen to Sen. Hillary Rodham Clinton speak at the Tenth Annual Commemoration of the Beijing Conference on Women's Rights. The precedent was set ten years ago when then First Lady Clinton spoke in front of the U.N., and, indeed, the world, on the demands of women's rights as human rights. And I did not know this until today, but her remarks ("human rights are women's rights and women's rights are human rights") led to a snowball of positive changes in women's rights throughout the world.

Before Sen. Rodham Clinton keynoted, leaders (MPs, directors of NGOs, professors) who have fought for women's rights using whatever channels possible, some of them forging paths never before traversed, engaged in a roundtable discussion; present were women representing six countries (including Rwanda, Iraq, Ukraine, Morocco, South Africa, and Peru) and the discussion was moderated by the dynamic UNIFEM Executive Director Noeleen Heyzer. Unfortunately, because some "important people" made the programme start A HALF HOUR LATE, the discussion was cut short, but while the women were on the stage, they told us of the progress made since 1995, Beijing, and of the continuing efforts and strategies that must continue for equality to be met.

What She and I enjoyed, perhaps most of all, was the amalgamation of cultures and languages. No one on the panel, aside from the South African, spoke English as a native language, and it was fascinating and enriching to hear all the women speak.

Honestly, I had no idea what to expect with going to listen to Sen. Rodham Clinton speak today. Simply, I was going because of the opportunity to hear a world leader speak. I had no idea the connection to the UN or this Women's Conference. I was touched by the perseverance and dedication presented on the stage. I absorbed much more than information at this session. Being in the presence of all those emboldened women was inspiring.

Afterwards, we had some Cali-Mex food and saw a movie. They paled in comparison.

All in all, though, the day was pretty fabulous. I love watching Anna come alive in the city while simultaneously feeling alive myself.

Curtains! At last!

Looksee what Anna was good enough to buy for us!

I'm All About the Free Conversations

Last night, Anna and I attended a conversation at NYU SCPS with Pete Hamill and Clyde Haberman, columnist for the NY Times. They talked about Catholicism (and the impending death of the current Pope), conflict in Northern Ireland and how Ireland now (as opposed to every other time in history before the last 10 years) "net imports" immigrants (wherein it used to just be an "exporter"), US foreign policy, the contentious West Side Stadium and other local NYC politics. Mr. Hamill, when asked, gave a chilling account of his experience on 9/11/01 (he was there) and what he learned from that experience. Anna wrote down all sorts of brilliant quips to come out of the discussion, but my favourite was when he referred to NYC as "the capital of People Not Like Us."

I had no idea who either of these gentlemen were before going into the session, only that Mr. Hamill had recently spoken at NYU at their eighth annual Irving H. Jurow Lecture, “What New York Can Teach the Rest of the World” and that I'd seen Clyde Haberman's name in the Times. Immigrants and their impact on NYC has become a subject of great interest for me recently. I think you guys could both enjoy Hamill's recent book Downtown: My Manhattan. Here is an exerpt (available off aforementioned Hamill website):

In my earliest memory, I am five years old, coming home from the Sanders Theater in Brooklyn. I am with my mother and we have just seen The Wizard of Oz. The year is 1940. In the safe darkness of the movie house I’ve seen emerald castles and a lion that talked and a road made of glistening yellow bricks. But in memory all of that is a blur. In memory, my mother takes my hand and the two of us are skipping all the way home singing “because because because because because!”

On this wonderful evening, my mother still has brown hair. She is laughing and exuberant, clearly made happy by going to a movie with her eldest son. I remember nothing else, except the word because. Later, I will learn that the woman I call Mom is actually Anne Devlin Hamill, an immigrant from the hard, dark city of Belfast, in Northern Ireland. She arrived in New York, with perfect Irish timing, on the day the stock market crashed in 1929. She was then nineteen. The calamity of the Great Depression did not dismay her. She went immediately to work for a rich Manhattan family as a domestic servant, glad of the work, joyous about being again in the city of New York. In all the years that followed in the life of Anne Devlin, that city would always be a wonderland. Why? Because.

Next to the Conversation, my favourite part about last night was dinner for $4.25: hotdogs for both me and Anna, a knish for me (my first!) and a pretzel for her, all chomped down outside the NYU building before going inside for the session.

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This Sunday we're going to listen to Sen. Clinton speak at NYU on the topic, "Women's Rights are Human Rights." I have fallen in love with NYU. I think I may attend graduate school at their Wagner Institute for Public Policy. Going to this discussion last night, listening to the conversation and the audience's questions made me realise that I thrive in the forum/Aristotlian open discussion format, and, more importantly, even if I only take one graduate course a semester, I want to keep going with my education. I just love it too much to stop.

A Funny Thing Happened on the Way To Work This Morning...

I was walking down 28th Street, approaching a red light at 6th Avenue. I approached the curb I saw a puddle of water jutting out about 2 feet from the curb. Seeing that other pedestrians had just avoided the puddle and were off to the side, I decided the best course of action would be to gently launch myself off the edge of the curb and over the puddle. I didn't adjust for ice on the curb.

Here's where it gets fuzzy... as I strided into the last step at the edge of the curb and stepped down, ice met my footing a split second before my back met the curb/puddle. Before I knew what had happened, two women descended upon me and were helping me off the ground. I was in a complete daze. I didn't even feel the impact of the fall. And even now, I can't even tell that I free-fell three feet and landed on my back this morning. My shoes aren't wet, so my feet must have flown out straight in front. What a sight that must have been for passers-by, haha!

The more I think about it the more I'm amazed at how little it hurt and how quickly I recovered, without even missing a beat. The light turned green and we walked across the street like nothing had happened. In fact, if it hadn't been for one of the ladies saying as she steadied me, "There's ice all over the place," I would still be wondering what the hell happened.

I found myself chuckling at the normal absurdity of the whole situation.

As a side note, had I not been wearing the water-proof coat that you guys bought me, my whole backside would be covered in water. But as the coat is water-resistent... :)