I like to go to Midnight Mass, a Catholic (and Anglican) service held at midnight on Christmas Eve. I'm not Catholic, and wasn't even raised Catholic, and have rather negative feelings about a lot of Catholic dogma (not Catholic individuals), but I like Midnight Mass.
I don't go very often, and I haven't been in at least five years. Two years ago MM (my only friend who isn't too annoyed at the Catholic church to attend) and I were supposed to go, but when I got to his and TL's house, he wasn't feeling well so we ate Flemish spice cookies and talked until 2am. Last year MM, the kids, and I went to the 5pm Children's Mass at Batman's school, but it didn't resonate with me as the whole Mass was directed to an under-10 audience. This year both Batman and Lizard are involved in the Christmas pageant part of the Mass, and MM says one Christmas Mass is enough.
I have attended some good Midnight Masses and some really bad ones. No and I and a friend went to Midnight Mass years ago at their high school in which a major part of the homily was about how when the SFPD placed an undercover cop on campus to ferret out drugs, they didn't find any. Denver D and I went to a Midnight Mass with his parents in Denver during which the priest talked about two parishioners who had died suddenly just before Christmas. I'm certainly not Catholic, but these homilies seemed really out of place for Christmas.
The best Midnight Mass I attended was at a church in NW Portland which had been recommended to me because the music there was so beautiful. The music was traditional and the Mass was in Latin, which was confusing and made me feel rather distant from the experience. However, the homily, which was in English and Spanish, really inspired me. It was at the beginning of my career in social work, while I was still volunteering at Harry's Mother. The priest's message was "Go out and do good."
My favorite part of the Mass - and this was true when I was at Catholic school - is the few minutes when everyone greets everyone else with a handshake (or, at CSH in the late '70's and early '80's, a two-fingered peace sign). I don't know if they call it this everywhere, but at my old school it was called something like The Peace Greeting. It is a moment in the service when everyone recognizes the individuality of each person and breaks through the barrier to smile and touch.
Namaste. The divine in me greets the divine in you.
Showing posts with label volunteering. Show all posts
Showing posts with label volunteering. Show all posts
Saturday, December 22, 2007
Tuesday, November 6, 2007
'Tis The Season for Fund Raising
I've already received newsletters from the Lighthouse and the Pacific Center, with the "giving" form attached on the last page. Second Harvest and Doctors Without Borders are back. The closet at the food bank is filling with USPS flats of mail so we can make our annual request for donations.
Tomorrow I'm going to my high school to pick up my "mailing supplies" so I can send fund-raising letters to my former classmates and to my friends. As a member of the Wallenberg Community Foundation, my main task is to help raise funds for the WCF, which in turns puts that money into education-enrichment materials (not textbooks, which the WCF believes should remain the responsibility of the school district) for the school. With public education fiunding being what it is, a lot of public schools are having to turn to foundations outside the school as well as their PTAs to help provide all kinds of things to the students' school environment (from teacher grants to foreign language tapes).
Wallenberg does an amazing job as a public high school with something like 90% of seniors going onto college the fall after graduation. I support that mission and as much as WTH has changed since I was there, that mission still in place. Because of that mission, I don't mind writing the letters. The first time I sent out letters I didn't like it, but doing the letters makes me feel like I'm doing my "job" as a board member. I know how many requests for money wind up in my recycling bin, so I'm not attached to the letters anymore. We, like all charitable organizations, know that a personal appeal from someone the recipient knows is more likely to result in giving.
My former classmates get a handwritten note, and while that's the hardest part, once I've written one I can copy it. I didn't go to high school with most of the people on my "friends" list (to borrow a phrase) and those letters are harder to write. Again, I figure out something. Last year I even sent a fund raising letter to my neighbors. I knew they didn't have any connection to my high school (which is in San Francisco, after all), but I figured after three years of our buying fund raising crap from their younger daughter I could hit them up.
I have to put them in the mail Thanksgiving week. I have the rest of this week and all of next to figure out how I'm going to ask people from the class of '86 and my non-Wallenberg friends to give money to the Wallenberg Community Foundation.
Tomorrow I'm going to my high school to pick up my "mailing supplies" so I can send fund-raising letters to my former classmates and to my friends. As a member of the Wallenberg Community Foundation, my main task is to help raise funds for the WCF, which in turns puts that money into education-enrichment materials (not textbooks, which the WCF believes should remain the responsibility of the school district) for the school. With public education fiunding being what it is, a lot of public schools are having to turn to foundations outside the school as well as their PTAs to help provide all kinds of things to the students' school environment (from teacher grants to foreign language tapes).
Wallenberg does an amazing job as a public high school with something like 90% of seniors going onto college the fall after graduation. I support that mission and as much as WTH has changed since I was there, that mission still in place. Because of that mission, I don't mind writing the letters. The first time I sent out letters I didn't like it, but doing the letters makes me feel like I'm doing my "job" as a board member. I know how many requests for money wind up in my recycling bin, so I'm not attached to the letters anymore. We, like all charitable organizations, know that a personal appeal from someone the recipient knows is more likely to result in giving.
My former classmates get a handwritten note, and while that's the hardest part, once I've written one I can copy it. I didn't go to high school with most of the people on my "friends" list (to borrow a phrase) and those letters are harder to write. Again, I figure out something. Last year I even sent a fund raising letter to my neighbors. I knew they didn't have any connection to my high school (which is in San Francisco, after all), but I figured after three years of our buying fund raising crap from their younger daughter I could hit them up.
I have to put them in the mail Thanksgiving week. I have the rest of this week and all of next to figure out how I'm going to ask people from the class of '86 and my non-Wallenberg friends to give money to the Wallenberg Community Foundation.
Tuesday, October 30, 2007
"If" Is The Middle Of Life
Choices I've made:
What if I had gone to boarding school for high school?
I took the Secondary School SAT in eighth grade but attended public school a mile from home. I didn't want to go away for high school.
What if I had gone to the large local state university instead of a small private one fifteen hours up I-5?
I decided I should to see what it would be like to leave home. Honestly, I went telling myself I could come back at semester break if I didn't like it.
What if I had moved to Colorado after college?
I had fallen in love and stayed in Tacoma, then moved to Portland with my girlfriend.
What if I had gone to graduate school in Seattle?
I was waitlisted for UW's School of Social Work in 1995, but didn't reapply the next year because I didn't want to go back to school.
What if I had purchased the Vernonia (OR) Independent newspaper?
I wasn't up to the challenge of being self-employed and bisexual in a town of 2200.
What if I had moved back to California by myself?
Among other reasons, YaYaWOT's husband pointed out that since I was moving anyway I may as well bring Denver D with me.
What if I had stayed at CSU East Bay in 2005?
I was attracted by UC Berkeley's reputation and wanted to go there, just like a high school senior would.
What if I had gone to boarding school for high school?
I took the Secondary School SAT in eighth grade but attended public school a mile from home. I didn't want to go away for high school.
What if I had gone to the large local state university instead of a small private one fifteen hours up I-5?
I decided I should to see what it would be like to leave home. Honestly, I went telling myself I could come back at semester break if I didn't like it.
What if I had moved to Colorado after college?
I had fallen in love and stayed in Tacoma, then moved to Portland with my girlfriend.
What if I had gone to graduate school in Seattle?
I was waitlisted for UW's School of Social Work in 1995, but didn't reapply the next year because I didn't want to go back to school.
What if I had purchased the Vernonia (OR) Independent newspaper?
I wasn't up to the challenge of being self-employed and bisexual in a town of 2200.
What if I had moved back to California by myself?
Among other reasons, YaYaWOT's husband pointed out that since I was moving anyway I may as well bring Denver D with me.
What if I had stayed at CSU East Bay in 2005?
I was attracted by UC Berkeley's reputation and wanted to go there, just like a high school senior would.
Monday, September 24, 2007
The Year of Big Fun Scary Things
I received an email from the National Novel Writing Month guy, Chris Baty, following up on his invitation to all of us who had once signed into NaNoWriMo for "Trying Big, Fun, Scary Things Together." The Year of BFS Things is coming to a close with the start of the 2007 NaNoWriMo, so he's checking in.
When I received the invitation in January I took it as a sign to not go back to financial aid right away and to take the year off and do other things. TL pointed out to me at the time that even though many of my friends had been supporting me to go for joy, it was an email from a stranger that convinced me to do it. Well, I'm superstitious that way, I guess.
I'm fascinated by what people are reporting were their goals and on their completion or status of those goals. I think I got what I wanted out of participating, and that makes me happy. When I read Saipan Writer's blog I feel like I'm helping her meet her goal, too, which was to write a blog.
In response to Chris Baty's email I posted this response to the forum:
The Universe works in strange ways.
When I received the invitation in January I took it as a sign to not go back to financial aid right away and to take the year off and do other things. TL pointed out to me at the time that even though many of my friends had been supporting me to go for joy, it was an email from a stranger that convinced me to do it. Well, I'm superstitious that way, I guess.
I'm fascinated by what people are reporting were their goals and on their completion or status of those goals. I think I got what I wanted out of participating, and that makes me happy. When I read Saipan Writer's blog I feel like I'm helping her meet her goal, too, which was to write a blog.
In response to Chris Baty's email I posted this response to the forum:
My goal was titled "Saying no to paid work."
Indeed, I did and I volunteered several places, including a small food pantry. When the program coordinator gave her notice at the beginning of May, the director asked me if I would be interested in taking over the position on an interim basis for several months while the food bank would be going through some major transitions. I said yes, and when the interim period ended, I was offered the position "for real." I said yes again.
Working at the food bank is hard physical work but oh so fulfilling, usually fun, and interesting. And if I hadn't started the Big Fun Scary thing of not working for pay I wouldn't have wound up with this great job that I love.
PS Unrelated to this, I resolved I would write every day in 2007 and on day 266 [yesterday] I think I'm having about a 95% - plus success rate so far.
The Universe works in strange ways.
Friday, September 21, 2007
Jawin'
When I'm at work, I often have a hard time sitting still. I work on my feet and there always seems to be a lot of things to do before we open for service. 1pm is the magic hour and honestly, some days I don't know how we are going to get it done. I have finally reached a point where I don't think we'll be ready for service and yet I know that somehow we always are, so I just trust my experience rather than my feeling in the moment.
Yet my boss wants me to take the time and chew the fat with the volunteers. He actually said that this isn't like a normal job where chatting is frowned upon. Shooting the breeze is almost in my job description. It builds community, and reinforces the community that already exists. Since they're not being paid, there are all kinds of reasons the volunteers show up week after week, and part of my job is to hang out with them.
Even if I have an unorganized meat freezer (or two).
Even if the produce from the farmer's market needs to be sorted.
Even if the service area is a mess.
Even if the bread table needs to be set up.
Even if I want to move the worm buckets around.
There are times when I have to quiet the list in my mind and just listen. This is something I am still practicing: I notice that when a volunteer is telling me about his trip or about a USDA report she read, that to-do list starts to chatter at me. For a moment I have this inner dialogue shutting down the list. Doing this actually makes me concentrate on the conversation even more.
Today a couple volunteers brought a cake to the food bank. I was training someone on one aspect of delivery when the FBD called a meeting at ten minutes to 1, which turned out to be in celebration of my birthday (last week) and the birthday of another volunteer (two weeks ago). They sang "Happy Birthday" and we each had a slice of cake, and then I grabbed my trainee and wandered off to continue training him. A few minutes later the FBD reappeared and pulled me back to where everyone was sitting and talking about the 50th HS reunion someone had just attended.
As I sat on the edge of a desk and listened, I thought to myself that this was one of those times that I just need4ed to sit still. I didn't know that the FBD had explained to the half-dozen clients sitting outside that we were going to open a little late. I just sat still. When I worked in an office it was so easy to jaw with a colleague, and at the food bank it's so hard most of the time.
Yet my boss wants me to take the time and chew the fat with the volunteers. He actually said that this isn't like a normal job where chatting is frowned upon. Shooting the breeze is almost in my job description. It builds community, and reinforces the community that already exists. Since they're not being paid, there are all kinds of reasons the volunteers show up week after week, and part of my job is to hang out with them.
Even if I have an unorganized meat freezer (or two).
Even if the produce from the farmer's market needs to be sorted.
Even if the service area is a mess.
Even if the bread table needs to be set up.
Even if I want to move the worm buckets around.
There are times when I have to quiet the list in my mind and just listen. This is something I am still practicing: I notice that when a volunteer is telling me about his trip or about a USDA report she read, that to-do list starts to chatter at me. For a moment I have this inner dialogue shutting down the list. Doing this actually makes me concentrate on the conversation even more.
Today a couple volunteers brought a cake to the food bank. I was training someone on one aspect of delivery when the FBD called a meeting at ten minutes to 1, which turned out to be in celebration of my birthday (last week) and the birthday of another volunteer (two weeks ago). They sang "Happy Birthday" and we each had a slice of cake, and then I grabbed my trainee and wandered off to continue training him. A few minutes later the FBD reappeared and pulled me back to where everyone was sitting and talking about the 50th HS reunion someone had just attended.
As I sat on the edge of a desk and listened, I thought to myself that this was one of those times that I just need4ed to sit still. I didn't know that the FBD had explained to the half-dozen clients sitting outside that we were going to open a little late. I just sat still. When I worked in an office it was so easy to jaw with a colleague, and at the food bank it's so hard most of the time.
Thursday, June 21, 2007
Community Service Hours for Students
We are starting to get calls from youth (or their parents) who are interested in putting in some hours at the food bank to complete their community service hours for graduation. It seems that the middle schools in Alameda require between twenty and twenty-five hours, depending on the school, for students to graduate from eighth grade.
I have mixed feelings about requiring community service hours to graduate from middle school. The main thrust of service learning is that the students will integrate the experience into their educations, but I think that the "learning" part of "service learning" has been lost. It is said that community service will get youth involved in their community and will open their eyes to volunteering, but requiring students to do it takes away from its being voluntary. Another idea is that it will give students some idea of the kinds of things that they could do when they grow up, and give them some work experience, but I don't think most students have that in mind, and the "work experience" is negligible.
While the school district is well-meaning, by making students who aren't interested in and aren't suited for working, the school district is putting a burden on the service providers where the district wants them to work. Some youth don't need a lot of supervision, but more require a lot of supervision and cajoling, thereby taking away the service of whichever adult has to make sure they do whatever jobs they are asked to do. Furthermore, there are a lot of youth who are involved in extracurricular activities like athletics, drama, scouting, or church groups, none of which satisfy the service learning requirement. In between the hours dedicated to school and/or work and/or extracurricular activities these students are supposed to "give away" three days?
On top of all that, it is unfortunately true that unless a youth is really interested in whatever it is the service provider does or is otherwise motivated (such as for college applications), these youth are going to get stuck doing jobs that are very similar to the chores they do at home. Service providers know that these people aren't going to stick around once we train them, so unless the students take their own initiatives, we will ask them to do things like sweep, mop, and wash dishes, or tasks like stuffing envelopes that are very repetitive and don't require a lot of teaching on the part of the regular staff person - not exactly the way to inspire a teenager!
High school students are a little different but that's another post.
I have mixed feelings about requiring community service hours to graduate from middle school. The main thrust of service learning is that the students will integrate the experience into their educations, but I think that the "learning" part of "service learning" has been lost. It is said that community service will get youth involved in their community and will open their eyes to volunteering, but requiring students to do it takes away from its being voluntary. Another idea is that it will give students some idea of the kinds of things that they could do when they grow up, and give them some work experience, but I don't think most students have that in mind, and the "work experience" is negligible.
While the school district is well-meaning, by making students who aren't interested in and aren't suited for working, the school district is putting a burden on the service providers where the district wants them to work. Some youth don't need a lot of supervision, but more require a lot of supervision and cajoling, thereby taking away the service of whichever adult has to make sure they do whatever jobs they are asked to do. Furthermore, there are a lot of youth who are involved in extracurricular activities like athletics, drama, scouting, or church groups, none of which satisfy the service learning requirement. In between the hours dedicated to school and/or work and/or extracurricular activities these students are supposed to "give away" three days?
On top of all that, it is unfortunately true that unless a youth is really interested in whatever it is the service provider does or is otherwise motivated (such as for college applications), these youth are going to get stuck doing jobs that are very similar to the chores they do at home. Service providers know that these people aren't going to stick around once we train them, so unless the students take their own initiatives, we will ask them to do things like sweep, mop, and wash dishes, or tasks like stuffing envelopes that are very repetitive and don't require a lot of teaching on the part of the regular staff person - not exactly the way to inspire a teenager!
High school students are a little different but that's another post.
Thursday, February 1, 2007
Definition of a Grown-Up
I was at the library yesterday in my role as a Homework Helper. This is a program for elementary school kids to get help with their homework, and most of the Helpers are high school students. Tuesday I helped a fourth grader with long division and a second grader with a paper about Shirley Chisholm (speaking of black presidential candidates). Yesterday I helped a different second grader with spelling and subtracting by tens.
Yesterday's student and I had the following conversations:
He: How old are you?
Me (after a little thought): 38. How old are you?
He: Eight. How old will you be when I'm 38?
Me: I'm thirty years older than you. I'll be 68. That's probably about your grandmother's age.
He: My grandmother's dead.
About half an hour later he asked, "What grade are you in?" I guess he'd forgotten our previous conversation in which it was determined that I'm almost as old as his father. I told him that I'm not in school, and have been out of school for a long time. He said, with some surprise, "You're a grown-up?"
I immediately thought about how I had wondered, in my 20s, when I was going to start feeling like a grown-up. Would it be once I bought a house? If I had a child? When my hair started turning grey? Except that a patch of grey came in all at once when I was 26, between the beginning of March and Easter that year, a house was far far off at $8.35 an hour, and I didn't want to have a child, and I still felt like I didn't know what was going on.
Now I know. When you finish school, you're a grown-up. Things are so much clearer when you're eight. They're sure not very clear now.
Yesterday's student and I had the following conversations:
He: How old are you?
Me (after a little thought): 38. How old are you?
He: Eight. How old will you be when I'm 38?
Me: I'm thirty years older than you. I'll be 68. That's probably about your grandmother's age.
He: My grandmother's dead.
About half an hour later he asked, "What grade are you in?" I guess he'd forgotten our previous conversation in which it was determined that I'm almost as old as his father. I told him that I'm not in school, and have been out of school for a long time. He said, with some surprise, "You're a grown-up?"
I immediately thought about how I had wondered, in my 20s, when I was going to start feeling like a grown-up. Would it be once I bought a house? If I had a child? When my hair started turning grey? Except that a patch of grey came in all at once when I was 26, between the beginning of March and Easter that year, a house was far far off at $8.35 an hour, and I didn't want to have a child, and I still felt like I didn't know what was going on.
Now I know. When you finish school, you're a grown-up. Things are so much clearer when you're eight. They're sure not very clear now.
Friday, January 26, 2007
Warm Fuzzies!
I've been getting a lot of support and that makes me feel all warm and fuzzy, like a big pile of fleece clothing - albeit, a pile of fleece that wants to run around and shout, "Yay!"
Everyone has used phrases like "feeding the heart," "follow your bliss," and "zap your soul." No one has said anything like "That's a risk" or even "Are you sure?" or even-even, "What does Zirpu think?"
On top of all that, I've been officially welcomed to the blogosphere.
The hiring manager responded to my email saying that I hadn't heard from her because she still hadn't received the authorization from HR to offer. I don't know, and don't care to know (really!), if she was going to offer to me, but it must be very frustrating for her to make a decision and not be able to move on it.
If HR had moved at anything like a reasonable pace, I would be working there.
I received an email that said, "I know firsthand what it means to make a decision like this, and the immediate sense of relief and exhilaration it can bring when you finally let go of feeling obligated/scared/indebted/whatever to your prior path and instead follow your passion and instincts."
Reading that, I remembered suddenly that I know several people who have done just what I have done, real people in my own life, who are successful and happy. Three friends who wanted families almost above everything else - and have them, even if they didn't arrive exactly on their own timelines. One friend got a PhD and is very happy teaching in an elementary school garden. Another friend ditched what she thought would be a career in teaching to do - I'm not sure what she would call it, but it's dance and massage and somatics. Yet another friend left working in a bank to strike out as a massage therapist.
I'm surprised that I didn't see it before, I who consider myself so observant. I had all these role models for risk and joy but I just didn't see them.
Everyone has used phrases like "feeding the heart," "follow your bliss," and "zap your soul." No one has said anything like "That's a risk" or even "Are you sure?" or even-even, "What does Zirpu think?"On top of all that, I've been officially welcomed to the blogosphere.
The hiring manager responded to my email saying that I hadn't heard from her because she still hadn't received the authorization from HR to offer. I don't know, and don't care to know (really!), if she was going to offer to me, but it must be very frustrating for her to make a decision and not be able to move on it.
If HR had moved at anything like a reasonable pace, I would be working there.
I received an email that said, "I know firsthand what it means to make a decision like this, and the immediate sense of relief and exhilaration it can bring when you finally let go of feeling obligated/scared/indebted/whatever to your prior path and instead follow your passion and instincts."
Reading that, I remembered suddenly that I know several people who have done just what I have done, real people in my own life, who are successful and happy. Three friends who wanted families almost above everything else - and have them, even if they didn't arrive exactly on their own timelines. One friend got a PhD and is very happy teaching in an elementary school garden. Another friend ditched what she thought would be a career in teaching to do - I'm not sure what she would call it, but it's dance and massage and somatics. Yet another friend left working in a bank to strike out as a massage therapist.
I'm surprised that I didn't see it before, I who consider myself so observant. I had all these role models for risk and joy but I just didn't see them.
Wednesday, January 24, 2007
See the sign!
Yesterday I realized that I don't want this job for which I interviewed, and it had been ten days and I still hadn't heard what was decided. I thought I was a pretty strong contender for the position, but I spent all day yesterday dreading my phone ringing, in case it was the hiring manager with a job offer. Zirpu and I had a talk over dinner about my continuing to do what I want to do, and doing some new things as well, happiness vs. salary, and dance (which is affected by said salary).
Zirpu's advice was to send an email to the hiring manager and withdraw my application, and to do what I want to do. I'm already volunteering at the food bank, the Pacific Center, and the Wallenberg Community Foundation, but I've wanted to teach reading in the Hayward Public Library's literacy program and I haven't done it because of the time commitment. Today I'm going to go down there and sign up for the training. So last night I wrote the email and proceeded, as usual, to agonize about sending it.
Sending it or not wasn't really about wanting the job, it was more about burning bridges and appearing flaky to the hiring manager, for whom I had been working just over a year when I went to Cal. When I asked Zirpu if this was the right thing to do, he said, "I don't know... But you never do." Which is true, but was unhelpful. Then I conveniently remembered I'd told Desi I would call her, so I did, and when I told her about this new direction I was considering going in, but I was afraid to start the process , she said, "Well, how long do you want to agonize over this?"
In the course of the conversation I told her that I wish I had a sign, telling me that it was the right thing to do. When we hung up, I went back to my computer and continued cleaning out my junk email box (to further postpone hitting "send") and found a message from Chris Baty of National Novel Writing Month which had come in on January 15th - the Monday following my interview. The fortuity of receiving this message in that moment astounded me, and I hit "send."
Here is the important part of Chris Baty's email (emphasis mine).
Dear Novelist, [...]
The truth is that 2007 is the Year We Will Be Trying Big, Fun, Scary Things Together.
Yep. It turns out that November was just a warm-up for a year of stretched brains and uncharted horizons. To help you make the most of TYWWBTBFSTT, the Office of Letters and Light will be hosting a couple great challenges---high-velocity screenplays in June at ScriptFrenzy.org, and another round of noveling in November.
But there's more.
And it's up to all of us to pull it off.
Think for a moment about those activities, classes, and endeavors that you've long daydreamed about, but have never quite got around to tackling. I'm talking about the roads less traveled---the tuba lessons, the family-history writing, the foreign language learning, the transformation of your living room into a multi-story race course for feral hamsters. These are the nonessential creative activities that get us in over our heads, bring new people into our lives, and help make life more magical.
As adults, we tend to steer clear of these pursuits because they take time and cost money. But putting off all our adventures for later comes with its own set of costs. Our souls become dry and brittle. Our energy levels sag. Our noses fall off.
Which is why I'm inviting you to pick a couple never-before-attempted endeavors that have long intrigued and daunted you, and then do them in 2007.
Publicly.
Yep. Once you have your list of new adventures post it in the Adventure Log, 2007 thread of the brand-new Trying Big, Fun, Scary Things Together 2007 forum on the NaNo site.
[...]
Here's to a big, fun, and scary 2007!
Chris
NaNoWriMo
Zirpu's advice was to send an email to the hiring manager and withdraw my application, and to do what I want to do. I'm already volunteering at the food bank, the Pacific Center, and the Wallenberg Community Foundation, but I've wanted to teach reading in the Hayward Public Library's literacy program and I haven't done it because of the time commitment. Today I'm going to go down there and sign up for the training. So last night I wrote the email and proceeded, as usual, to agonize about sending it.
Sending it or not wasn't really about wanting the job, it was more about burning bridges and appearing flaky to the hiring manager, for whom I had been working just over a year when I went to Cal. When I asked Zirpu if this was the right thing to do, he said, "I don't know... But you never do." Which is true, but was unhelpful. Then I conveniently remembered I'd told Desi I would call her, so I did, and when I told her about this new direction I was considering going in, but I was afraid to start the process , she said, "Well, how long do you want to agonize over this?"
In the course of the conversation I told her that I wish I had a sign, telling me that it was the right thing to do. When we hung up, I went back to my computer and continued cleaning out my junk email box (to further postpone hitting "send") and found a message from Chris Baty of National Novel Writing Month which had come in on January 15th - the Monday following my interview. The fortuity of receiving this message in that moment astounded me, and I hit "send."
Here is the important part of Chris Baty's email (emphasis mine).
Dear Novelist, [...]
The truth is that 2007 is the Year We Will Be Trying Big, Fun, Scary Things Together.
Yep. It turns out that November was just a warm-up for a year of stretched brains and uncharted horizons. To help you make the most of TYWWBTBFSTT, the Office of Letters and Light will be hosting a couple great challenges---high-velocity screenplays in June at ScriptFrenzy.org, and another round of noveling in November.
But there's more.
And it's up to all of us to pull it off.
Think for a moment about those activities, classes, and endeavors that you've long daydreamed about, but have never quite got around to tackling. I'm talking about the roads less traveled---the tuba lessons, the family-history writing, the foreign language learning, the transformation of your living room into a multi-story race course for feral hamsters. These are the nonessential creative activities that get us in over our heads, bring new people into our lives, and help make life more magical.
As adults, we tend to steer clear of these pursuits because they take time and cost money. But putting off all our adventures for later comes with its own set of costs. Our souls become dry and brittle. Our energy levels sag. Our noses fall off.
Which is why I'm inviting you to pick a couple never-before-attempted endeavors that have long intrigued and daunted you, and then do them in 2007.
Publicly.
Yep. Once you have your list of new adventures post it in the Adventure Log, 2007 thread of the brand-new Trying Big, Fun, Scary Things Together 2007 forum on the NaNo site.
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Here's to a big, fun, and scary 2007!
Chris
NaNoWriMo
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