A few days ago marked the beginning of the holiday season- Thanksgiving. Around the country, people gathered together to enjoy food, fellowship, and football. Indeed, in my family I was fortunate enough to break bread with one of my uncles, his girlfriend, her daughter and her daughter's boyfriend, my sister, mom, dad, and grandfather. We spent time at the table, giving thanks for all we had, all we are, and all we can be. It wasn't until the day after Thanksgiving, however, that a series of events gave me real reason to pause and feel fortunate in this season of thanks.
On Friday I planned to meet a family friend for lunch in Portsmouth, NH on my way back to Providence. As so often happens in my family, plans evolved up until the last minute and the result of this scheduling metamorphosis was my sister, dad, and mom joining me for lunch with our family friend. I was excited. The more the merrier is an adage I try to hold dear, and when my family is involved with any social situation, the result is almost always an adventure.
My mom rode in my dad's car, and my sister rode shotgun with me. Being in an enclosed space with my sister for 55 minutes hurtling 69 miles per hour on asphalt creates a level of excitement that may not otherwise be experienced, save being on the shuttle rocketing into our planet's atmosphere. My sister, knowing me better than most in this world, managed to touch every document in my glove compartment, center console, and above the car visors, providing commentary for all items found. My blood pressure was steadily rising, as was the speedometer, and then my sister managed to find my latest parking ticket.
"Ah haaa!!!" she taunted.
I managed to contain my skyrocketing blood pressure in a healthy range, and keep my car on the road. No sooner did I explain my parking ticket did my sister look above my rear view mirror and make a face not unlike the one you may make upon running a stop sign you failed to notice until the last minute.
"Robbie, your inspection sticker is wayyyy past due!" she explained with a sick mixture of glee and anxiety.
And so it was. We soon managed to glide my vehicle ever gracefully into a parking spot near the restaurant. It was so great to see our family friend, whom I haven't seen in many months. Unfortunately, the table talk was dominated by everyone's attempts to find a garage that would inspect my car on Black Friday. It was not to be. Instead, after ending our luncheon, I drove up route one, frantically looking for an open garage before I was to meet another friend, from Saint Mike's, for lunch in Portsmouth. Upon finding a closed garage and trying to turn my car around to go back to Portsmouth, I received a call from my sister.
"Robbie, is your car even registered?" my sister asked.
I parked the car, walked to the back and looked at my license plate. Moments later, the right side of my face began to quiver, my heart pounded with force, and my right eye ball no doubt filled with blood. The registration had been expired for three months. I was driving an unregistered car without an inspection sticker. Instead of meeting my friend in Portsmouth, she graciously agreed to ride up to South Portland with me so I could get my car registered, and hopefully, inspected. Instead of enjoying each other's company over a nice craft brew and catching up on old times, we sat together, with my mom, in the waiting room of a car garage, surrounded by snow tires with the faintest scent of motor oil hovering in the air.
As this year's holiday season commences, I have much to be thankful for. Along with my health and that of my family, I give thanks for my family friend and his efforts to find me a garage that would inspect my car. He was so helpful in my time of need. I must give thanks for my sister noticing my irresponsibility. Without her provoking a near embolism in the left hemisphere of my brain, I likely would have been stopped for driving an unregistered car with an inspection sticker far past due. I am thankful for my college friend. As often in the past, she was by my side during a stressful time, and was gracious enough to accompany me to Maine to register my car and sit in a garage, catching up in a scenery dominated by the ambiance of screeching tires and the scent of gasoline. I must give thanks for my parents. They paid for my car registration and inspection and, without their financial support, I surely would have walked back to Providence.
I hope this story churns in you, my faithful reader(s?), a recollection of times when you too have given thanks for what others have done for you. During this holiday season, I'm sure we will all come to benefit from each other at one time or another.
Happy Holidays!!
Sunday, November 28, 2010
Tuesday, November 23, 2010
SURPRISE!!!
This past Saturday I had a surprise party to celebrate my girlfriend Sarah's birthday. It was so awesome to have about a dozen of her close friends as well as Kevin and Diane, her parents, come down to celebrate such a wonderful occasion. I planned it for about two weeks and I must say, I was so glad when the day came- it was hard to keep everything under wraps! Sarah is very intuitive and I struggled to maintain the element of surprise as the day came closer.
I must say, at the risk of boasting a bit, that I am proud of being able to organize the party. Indeed, it never would have happened without Kevin and Diane, who not only brought food and party supplies, but also helped set up the apartment while I had Sarah out of the house. But for me, someone who's organization skills include losing a pair of shoes for much of the Fall, pulling off this party was a step in the right direction.
The day started out at the market, where Sarah and I were both working. (I got a new job, which will definitely receive a post in the soon future!) After I finished up with my job, I had about an hour and a half to kill before Sarah was finished with her work. My mom was down from Maine for her high school reunion, so I was able to run some last minute errands with her before Sarah came back to the apartment. I didn't tell Sarah my mom was down, and she received quite a surprise when my mom came to the market! At about 3:30, Sarah and I left for the RISD museum. It was such a cool place!! The art was incredible, with some awesome furniture and design concepts that really blew my mind. The museum closed at 5, so I had to kill about 20 minutes before taking Sarah back to our place for the surprise. We went to the coffee exchange, where I bought a hazelnut flavored Italian soda. Yes, I know. Pretty weird and random, but I had to kill some time and I didn't want to have an espresso moments before cracking open a beer. Sarah and I walked into the apartment at around 5:20, and the party supplies were on our breakfast table, with a "Happy Birthday" sign hung over the sink. Soon after she realized what was going on, thirteen people spilled out of our "man cave" television room and screamed "HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!", filling Sarah's eyes with small tears, and my heart with much joy.
I want to write, so anyone who may be reading who was there, thank you! You all helped me make such a special day for Sarah. It was such a great evening with great food and great friends. Kevin and Diane provided the food and drinks, and I can't thank them enough for their help with this great occasion. I was so happy to do this for Sarah, and I wouldn't have been able to do any of it without the help of Kevin and Diane and our friends.
I must say, at the risk of boasting a bit, that I am proud of being able to organize the party. Indeed, it never would have happened without Kevin and Diane, who not only brought food and party supplies, but also helped set up the apartment while I had Sarah out of the house. But for me, someone who's organization skills include losing a pair of shoes for much of the Fall, pulling off this party was a step in the right direction.
The day started out at the market, where Sarah and I were both working. (I got a new job, which will definitely receive a post in the soon future!) After I finished up with my job, I had about an hour and a half to kill before Sarah was finished with her work. My mom was down from Maine for her high school reunion, so I was able to run some last minute errands with her before Sarah came back to the apartment. I didn't tell Sarah my mom was down, and she received quite a surprise when my mom came to the market! At about 3:30, Sarah and I left for the RISD museum. It was such a cool place!! The art was incredible, with some awesome furniture and design concepts that really blew my mind. The museum closed at 5, so I had to kill about 20 minutes before taking Sarah back to our place for the surprise. We went to the coffee exchange, where I bought a hazelnut flavored Italian soda. Yes, I know. Pretty weird and random, but I had to kill some time and I didn't want to have an espresso moments before cracking open a beer. Sarah and I walked into the apartment at around 5:20, and the party supplies were on our breakfast table, with a "Happy Birthday" sign hung over the sink. Soon after she realized what was going on, thirteen people spilled out of our "man cave" television room and screamed "HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!", filling Sarah's eyes with small tears, and my heart with much joy.
I want to write, so anyone who may be reading who was there, thank you! You all helped me make such a special day for Sarah. It was such a great evening with great food and great friends. Kevin and Diane provided the food and drinks, and I can't thank them enough for their help with this great occasion. I was so happy to do this for Sarah, and I wouldn't have been able to do any of it without the help of Kevin and Diane and our friends.
Sunday, November 7, 2010
Welcome to Hell
Although I have lived in Rhode Island for over a year, my heart has always been, and always will be, in Maine. In the wake of midterm elections, now seems like an appropriate time to acknowledge the disaster Maine has voted itself into, and comment on the likely consequences of the recent elections, paying close attention to the gubernatorial results.
Receiving 38.33 percent of the votes in the gubernatorial election, the people of Maine have spoken: Paul LePage is the person they want for governor. Sadly, Paul LePage is the wrong choice, and by electing him to lead our state, Maine has chosen to step back and retreat from many problems that plague our communities, rather than form plans for policies that will address and confront these issues.
The first issue that Paul LePage clearly has no idea how to address is welfare reform. Mr. LePage's story of growing up in poverty and finally exiting its cycle is inspirational. Sadly, this does not mean he knows how to reform it into a working system for the state. Mr. LePage's most blatant misconception in his policy of welfare reform is his plan to place residents who receive benefits on a five year cap. With this in mind, Mr. LePage is creating unnecessary stress and pressure on families that already, obviously, have much to deal with. His insensitivity to the plight of people who benefit from welfare is captured in his statements during his campaign that focused on his desire to send people who are still on the system after five years to Massachusetts, where they can then start over. This is not the mindset of someone we can trust to help our brothers and sisters who suffer from poverty. Rather, it is one that exists in the mind of a businessman looking to cut dollars, putting people's lives at stake along the way.
The next issue that should repulse Maine voters is Mr. LePage's comments on transgendered students made on an Aroostook County radio show in the midst of the gubernatorial campaign. His comments reflected his view that transgendered students have no place in Maine public schools. Couple this with Mr. LePage's view of the traditional family as that being headed only by a man and a woman, and the bigotry and hatred are not hard to see. Soon after this comment was made, Mr. LePage retracted and did not recall making those comments. For me it is simple, and it should be for you too. Mr. LePage's lack of respect and education on issues within the LGBTQ (Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, Transgendered, Questioning) community are rife with misanthropy and delusion. Call me a socialist, call me a Marxist, but I for one do not stand for a leader who tramples on the rights of other human beings and side steps issues of rights for students. The issue is simple, as it was for black men and women not too long ago in our country: do we want to provide an inclusive community where all people can live together without fear of discrimination, or do we want to perpetuate the myths and ignorance surrounding the issues of gay men and women and continue to oppress them in our state? Mr. LePage's view is as scary and pathetic as it is clear.
I should note the positive aspects of Mr. LePage's policies, however few they may be. His plan for education is particularly positive, despite his comments on transgendered students. He supports vouchers and charter schools, which together can make a drastic difference in the landscape of our state.
So welcome, my fellow Mainers, to Hell. Don't worry, though. This should hopefully only last four years and with any luck, no harm will be brought forth by the misguided policies of this ignorant miscreant who has slithered into the Blain House.
Receiving 38.33 percent of the votes in the gubernatorial election, the people of Maine have spoken: Paul LePage is the person they want for governor. Sadly, Paul LePage is the wrong choice, and by electing him to lead our state, Maine has chosen to step back and retreat from many problems that plague our communities, rather than form plans for policies that will address and confront these issues.
The first issue that Paul LePage clearly has no idea how to address is welfare reform. Mr. LePage's story of growing up in poverty and finally exiting its cycle is inspirational. Sadly, this does not mean he knows how to reform it into a working system for the state. Mr. LePage's most blatant misconception in his policy of welfare reform is his plan to place residents who receive benefits on a five year cap. With this in mind, Mr. LePage is creating unnecessary stress and pressure on families that already, obviously, have much to deal with. His insensitivity to the plight of people who benefit from welfare is captured in his statements during his campaign that focused on his desire to send people who are still on the system after five years to Massachusetts, where they can then start over. This is not the mindset of someone we can trust to help our brothers and sisters who suffer from poverty. Rather, it is one that exists in the mind of a businessman looking to cut dollars, putting people's lives at stake along the way.
The next issue that should repulse Maine voters is Mr. LePage's comments on transgendered students made on an Aroostook County radio show in the midst of the gubernatorial campaign. His comments reflected his view that transgendered students have no place in Maine public schools. Couple this with Mr. LePage's view of the traditional family as that being headed only by a man and a woman, and the bigotry and hatred are not hard to see. Soon after this comment was made, Mr. LePage retracted and did not recall making those comments. For me it is simple, and it should be for you too. Mr. LePage's lack of respect and education on issues within the LGBTQ (Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, Transgendered, Questioning) community are rife with misanthropy and delusion. Call me a socialist, call me a Marxist, but I for one do not stand for a leader who tramples on the rights of other human beings and side steps issues of rights for students. The issue is simple, as it was for black men and women not too long ago in our country: do we want to provide an inclusive community where all people can live together without fear of discrimination, or do we want to perpetuate the myths and ignorance surrounding the issues of gay men and women and continue to oppress them in our state? Mr. LePage's view is as scary and pathetic as it is clear.
I should note the positive aspects of Mr. LePage's policies, however few they may be. His plan for education is particularly positive, despite his comments on transgendered students. He supports vouchers and charter schools, which together can make a drastic difference in the landscape of our state.
So welcome, my fellow Mainers, to Hell. Don't worry, though. This should hopefully only last four years and with any luck, no harm will be brought forth by the misguided policies of this ignorant miscreant who has slithered into the Blain House.
Sunday, September 12, 2010
Pride: It fills my heart.
I cannot write, sing, say, interpretive dance, text, or smoke signal enough how proud I am of my family. My sister is a full time pre-school teacher, helping young people begin a life long journey of learning. My mom is a fourth grade teacher at a parochial school who has been teaching for as long as I can remember. My dad is a superintendent for a school district in southern Maine and has helped shaped the landscape of public education in Maine throughout his career. Each day I am reminded of how each member of my family serves the public. It is what we do. I am reminded of how proud I am of each member of my family each and every day. As the youngest member of my family, I sometimes encounter anxiety and fear that I won't live up to the standards that have been set for me.
Last week I started my first week of classes at Boston College. I had the opportunity to take classes at a satellite campus closer to Providence, but I wanted to be immersed in the culture of Boston College. I wanted to feel the energy at "the Heights". After last week, I feel I have made the right decision. Each time I step on the campus, I can't help but look up at the vast, regal stone buildings and wonder: "how did I get here?". I feel so overwhelmed with gratitude that I am able to study at such am amazing school. The building that houses the Graduate School of Social Work is directly across from the Lynch School of Education, where my dad earned his doctorate degree of education. Each day I go to classes and look over at the building, perhaps saying a silent prayer or reflection of hopes that I can accomplish something as great as he has. Indeed, if I can impact my community half as much as my dad, mom, and sister has, I will consider my life's work complete.
Last week, amidst the opening class questions of "why did you choose social work?" "where have you studied?" and "what type of social work are concentrating on?" I began to reflect on something I experienced over the summer.
I was fortunate enough to attend the wedding of a family friend in Maine, and was happy to see so many of my family members and close friends. My dad, in my opinion, is about as close to selfless as you can get without being considered some type of a Buddhist monk. He prefers to let the actions of his children and wife speak for themselves. My mom, on the other hand, pounces on the opportunity to speak about her children and husband that is akin to a cheetah taking down a gazelle. It is really a beautiful sight. At this particular wedding, my mom was able to bring up my upcoming studies at Boston College. This particular family friend's eyebrows raised toward her head of hair. "Oh wow. What's he studying?" "Social work." my mom responded.
No sooner did those two words come out of my mom's mouth did this lady's facial expression turn into some type of contorted look of disgust that one would get while watching a baby spit up for the first time. Of course, her next comment was how in her particular line of work she sees how social workers struggle and never make any money.
Money. The big word. The five letter word that churns our culture and divides so much of our world. I know this is a long post, but stay with me.
During this past year as a case manager, I was able to experience many situations that social workers encounter. One such occasion was when one of my clients came to me with a strong desire to cut her wrists. Now, you can peddle stocks on Wall Street. You can strike a big deal for your client in court. You can increase your company's profits for the 4th quarter. You will never, in any of these types of jobs, feel the sudden rush of adrenaline that comes when someone walks up to you and tells you they want to kill themselves. A long story short, I was able to counsel this particular client into using coping skills to manage their thoughts of self harm. They did not engage in this type of self injurious behavior. Driving home after work that day, I got the same feeling I felt last week while at Boston College for my first classes: social work changes lives, and it is what I should be doing.
I will say, that after my first week at Boston College and after starting my internship at the Met school as a social work intern, I can't imagine doing anything else with my life right now. Last year, after taxes I made just over 18,000 dollars for twelve months of work as a residential case manager. I made every student loan, car, and rent payment. I ate well and was even able to enjoy the occasional craft ale and day of skiing with my incredibly beautiful girlfriend. In short, I was not saving buckets of money, but I was able to live quite comfortably without overwhelming assistance from my parents.
I felt sad and angry that night after the wedding. This poor woman is so overwhelmed by the idea of money that she neglects to realize the truly beautiful contributions that social workers can make in this world. I felt as though I was receiving her sympathy for my choice of a career, which did not jive well with my sense of pride. I'm sure she meant no harm by what she said. I can't say that I blame her because she focuses too much on what people make and has no idea what it means to touch someone's life and help them change in a way that brings sustained peace in their life. She does not know what it means to encounter a crisis and help someone navigate the troubled waters of mental illness. These are intangibles. You can't get them at the office party, or at the water fountain during a break. These are the types of experiences I live for- where I can help someone who has serious trouble in their life and help them reach a point of happiness. As far as I'm concerned, these types of experiences are worth every cent of a paycheck, no matter how much it is for.
As my classes begin and I become more and more entrenched in the world of academia, I will never for a second forget how proud I am of my family. They have each found their passion for serving, and in social work, I feel I have found mine. I hope that some day I will be able to contribute as much as they have.
Last week I started my first week of classes at Boston College. I had the opportunity to take classes at a satellite campus closer to Providence, but I wanted to be immersed in the culture of Boston College. I wanted to feel the energy at "the Heights". After last week, I feel I have made the right decision. Each time I step on the campus, I can't help but look up at the vast, regal stone buildings and wonder: "how did I get here?". I feel so overwhelmed with gratitude that I am able to study at such am amazing school. The building that houses the Graduate School of Social Work is directly across from the Lynch School of Education, where my dad earned his doctorate degree of education. Each day I go to classes and look over at the building, perhaps saying a silent prayer or reflection of hopes that I can accomplish something as great as he has. Indeed, if I can impact my community half as much as my dad, mom, and sister has, I will consider my life's work complete.
Last week, amidst the opening class questions of "why did you choose social work?" "where have you studied?" and "what type of social work are concentrating on?" I began to reflect on something I experienced over the summer.
I was fortunate enough to attend the wedding of a family friend in Maine, and was happy to see so many of my family members and close friends. My dad, in my opinion, is about as close to selfless as you can get without being considered some type of a Buddhist monk. He prefers to let the actions of his children and wife speak for themselves. My mom, on the other hand, pounces on the opportunity to speak about her children and husband that is akin to a cheetah taking down a gazelle. It is really a beautiful sight. At this particular wedding, my mom was able to bring up my upcoming studies at Boston College. This particular family friend's eyebrows raised toward her head of hair. "Oh wow. What's he studying?" "Social work." my mom responded.
No sooner did those two words come out of my mom's mouth did this lady's facial expression turn into some type of contorted look of disgust that one would get while watching a baby spit up for the first time. Of course, her next comment was how in her particular line of work she sees how social workers struggle and never make any money.
Money. The big word. The five letter word that churns our culture and divides so much of our world. I know this is a long post, but stay with me.
During this past year as a case manager, I was able to experience many situations that social workers encounter. One such occasion was when one of my clients came to me with a strong desire to cut her wrists. Now, you can peddle stocks on Wall Street. You can strike a big deal for your client in court. You can increase your company's profits for the 4th quarter. You will never, in any of these types of jobs, feel the sudden rush of adrenaline that comes when someone walks up to you and tells you they want to kill themselves. A long story short, I was able to counsel this particular client into using coping skills to manage their thoughts of self harm. They did not engage in this type of self injurious behavior. Driving home after work that day, I got the same feeling I felt last week while at Boston College for my first classes: social work changes lives, and it is what I should be doing.
I will say, that after my first week at Boston College and after starting my internship at the Met school as a social work intern, I can't imagine doing anything else with my life right now. Last year, after taxes I made just over 18,000 dollars for twelve months of work as a residential case manager. I made every student loan, car, and rent payment. I ate well and was even able to enjoy the occasional craft ale and day of skiing with my incredibly beautiful girlfriend. In short, I was not saving buckets of money, but I was able to live quite comfortably without overwhelming assistance from my parents.
I felt sad and angry that night after the wedding. This poor woman is so overwhelmed by the idea of money that she neglects to realize the truly beautiful contributions that social workers can make in this world. I felt as though I was receiving her sympathy for my choice of a career, which did not jive well with my sense of pride. I'm sure she meant no harm by what she said. I can't say that I blame her because she focuses too much on what people make and has no idea what it means to touch someone's life and help them change in a way that brings sustained peace in their life. She does not know what it means to encounter a crisis and help someone navigate the troubled waters of mental illness. These are intangibles. You can't get them at the office party, or at the water fountain during a break. These are the types of experiences I live for- where I can help someone who has serious trouble in their life and help them reach a point of happiness. As far as I'm concerned, these types of experiences are worth every cent of a paycheck, no matter how much it is for.
As my classes begin and I become more and more entrenched in the world of academia, I will never for a second forget how proud I am of my family. They have each found their passion for serving, and in social work, I feel I have found mine. I hope that some day I will be able to contribute as much as they have.
Sunday, September 5, 2010
Good Bye Cortland
I awoke this morning to windows wide open, a crisp breeze flowing in my bedroom, and an apartment which has a temperature below 85 degrees for the first time in months. This brought to me a renewed sense of excitement- Fall is on the way! Along with Fall comes a new chapter in my life- graduate school at Boston College.
A few weeks ago, on Friday August 20, I worked my final shift as a residential case manager at Cortland Group Home. Immediately following my departure, I travelled to Maine for a wedding and spent the next week in Maine with time split between my family's camp in Lake View and my hometown in South Portland. During this time I was able to process my feelings of leaving the group home. What did I learn? What could I have done better? How will I take my experiences and use them to become a better clinician in the future? While working at the group home I witnessed truly horrific events in the lives of people who are affected by severe mental illness. Along with this, I was able to witness small gains in these same people's lives as they learned to advocate for themselves and develop empowerment. Learning to wash their dishes, operate the laundry machine, and complete their personal hygiene were all major achievements.
As a newly graduated twentysomething with a degree in psychology and no experience, I was excited to change people's lives and get them back on their own two feet. I was ready to rid their lives of severe mental illness forever. Sadly, it did not take long for me to realize just how naive I was. Instead, I focused on the small advancements in these people's lives, such as doing their own laundry and completing their personal hygiene, and realized they were small miracles.
As I begin a new chapter at Boston College this week, I continue to think about my clients at the group home and wonder how they are doing. It did not take long for me to realize after leaving the group home that to some extent, I needed my clients much more then they needed me. I think this level of dependency between humans is a beautiful concept that promotes peace and unity among all people.
A few weeks ago, on Friday August 20, I worked my final shift as a residential case manager at Cortland Group Home. Immediately following my departure, I travelled to Maine for a wedding and spent the next week in Maine with time split between my family's camp in Lake View and my hometown in South Portland. During this time I was able to process my feelings of leaving the group home. What did I learn? What could I have done better? How will I take my experiences and use them to become a better clinician in the future? While working at the group home I witnessed truly horrific events in the lives of people who are affected by severe mental illness. Along with this, I was able to witness small gains in these same people's lives as they learned to advocate for themselves and develop empowerment. Learning to wash their dishes, operate the laundry machine, and complete their personal hygiene were all major achievements.
As a newly graduated twentysomething with a degree in psychology and no experience, I was excited to change people's lives and get them back on their own two feet. I was ready to rid their lives of severe mental illness forever. Sadly, it did not take long for me to realize just how naive I was. Instead, I focused on the small advancements in these people's lives, such as doing their own laundry and completing their personal hygiene, and realized they were small miracles.
As I begin a new chapter at Boston College this week, I continue to think about my clients at the group home and wonder how they are doing. It did not take long for me to realize after leaving the group home that to some extent, I needed my clients much more then they needed me. I think this level of dependency between humans is a beautiful concept that promotes peace and unity among all people.
Sunday, August 15, 2010
Thoughts on vacation.
After reading my latest post, you are right in assuming I had a great time on Martha's Vineyard. In fact, I had a blast. It was great to see Kara along with her brother and father. I was also very happy to meet a new friend in Justin. My experience on Martha's Vineyard was, however, difficult in the sense that I had many feelings to manage. I hope this post will help me articulate some of my life experiences so you can have another perspective of the world we live in, particularly Martha's Vineyard.
Upon landing at Martha's Vineyard, it didn't take long for me to notice how much money was being spent. My ticket, for example, cost 70 dollars round trip. Now before I even set foot on the island, I can help feed a family in rural India for a few weeks. I realized this wasn't a typical vacation spot when I found myself in a sea of white people holding multiple shopping bags as they walked across streets and into their Range Rovers. I could barely smell the salt in the air before I had trouble managing thoughts of guilt, sadness, and shame.
In the summer of 2006 I spent 2 weeks in rural Brazil participating in a church sponsored mission trip to help a humanitarian organization called the Medical Missionaries of Mary. During this time, along with painting a school and visiting impoverished farmers, I became inspired to help others. During this trip, I knew that whatever I did for a living when I grew older had to have a direct positive impact on a person's life every day.
Soon after this trip, in the fall of 2007, I spent 3 and half months in India studying abroad. It was during this time abroad that my life changed forever. India is the world's largest democracy and it struggles to rise into the industrialized world. Millions of Indians are trapped in a world of inadequate health care, insufficient schooling, and unemployment. Every day, while I walked on the street, I saw dozens of children begging. Coming up to your arms, asking for money, these children had looks of desperation and hopelessness that has been burned in my memory. I will never forget the night I landed in New Delhi, and as our bus took the group I was with to our hotel, I looked out the window and saw people sleeping on the street for what seemed like miles.
Now, as we fast forward to Oak Bluffs, this tiny island town had no visible signs of these horrors that plague parts of India. Now, to be fair, I will say the people I saw were vacationers, and I am sure the year round residents of Oak Bluffs and Martha's VIneyard have issues with healthcare, unemployment, and poverty. The point I want to make is these issues are very hard to find on the island because they are masked by a constant ambiance of wealth and well-being. There seems to be no struggle, and that is what bothered me. Having seen the struggles that people face on a daily basis, I have difficulty managing the reconciliation of my time in India and Brazil with times like being on Martha's Vineyard.
I will, at this time, say there is absolutely nothing wrong with Martha's Vineyard. In fact, I hope to go back some day. What I hope you, my reader, can begin to understand, is how it was difficult for me to enjoy the opportunity for relaxation on the island when I am aware that at the same time countless people are struggling throughout the world. I understand that any person can pick up a New York Times and be aware of the same thing but, at the risk of sounding self-righteous, the problems of the world become much more vivid when you experience them first hand.
My hope for you after having read this post is that you will continue to vacation in the cesspools of wealth that are tucked into the beautiful corners of our world. Keep going. sun bathe. water ski. swim. drink. eat. sleep. silence your phone. Do all the great things we yearn for as we toil away in the office after months of work and stress. Except the next time you go, actually read the paper on the plane, ferry, or train. Flip to whatever God awful atrocity is going on in the world at that time, and learn about it. Then, as you arrive at the resort, cabin, bungalow, or hostel, keep the article in your thoughts. I think this can help us become more grateful for what we have, and perhaps more aware of how we can help those in need. Remember that at all times, there is suffering. Personally, I think this is something we should be especially aware of as we swim up to the bar and order another margarita. I hope you do a better job than I did.
Upon landing at Martha's Vineyard, it didn't take long for me to notice how much money was being spent. My ticket, for example, cost 70 dollars round trip. Now before I even set foot on the island, I can help feed a family in rural India for a few weeks. I realized this wasn't a typical vacation spot when I found myself in a sea of white people holding multiple shopping bags as they walked across streets and into their Range Rovers. I could barely smell the salt in the air before I had trouble managing thoughts of guilt, sadness, and shame.
In the summer of 2006 I spent 2 weeks in rural Brazil participating in a church sponsored mission trip to help a humanitarian organization called the Medical Missionaries of Mary. During this time, along with painting a school and visiting impoverished farmers, I became inspired to help others. During this trip, I knew that whatever I did for a living when I grew older had to have a direct positive impact on a person's life every day.
Soon after this trip, in the fall of 2007, I spent 3 and half months in India studying abroad. It was during this time abroad that my life changed forever. India is the world's largest democracy and it struggles to rise into the industrialized world. Millions of Indians are trapped in a world of inadequate health care, insufficient schooling, and unemployment. Every day, while I walked on the street, I saw dozens of children begging. Coming up to your arms, asking for money, these children had looks of desperation and hopelessness that has been burned in my memory. I will never forget the night I landed in New Delhi, and as our bus took the group I was with to our hotel, I looked out the window and saw people sleeping on the street for what seemed like miles.
Now, as we fast forward to Oak Bluffs, this tiny island town had no visible signs of these horrors that plague parts of India. Now, to be fair, I will say the people I saw were vacationers, and I am sure the year round residents of Oak Bluffs and Martha's VIneyard have issues with healthcare, unemployment, and poverty. The point I want to make is these issues are very hard to find on the island because they are masked by a constant ambiance of wealth and well-being. There seems to be no struggle, and that is what bothered me. Having seen the struggles that people face on a daily basis, I have difficulty managing the reconciliation of my time in India and Brazil with times like being on Martha's Vineyard.
I will, at this time, say there is absolutely nothing wrong with Martha's Vineyard. In fact, I hope to go back some day. What I hope you, my reader, can begin to understand, is how it was difficult for me to enjoy the opportunity for relaxation on the island when I am aware that at the same time countless people are struggling throughout the world. I understand that any person can pick up a New York Times and be aware of the same thing but, at the risk of sounding self-righteous, the problems of the world become much more vivid when you experience them first hand.
My hope for you after having read this post is that you will continue to vacation in the cesspools of wealth that are tucked into the beautiful corners of our world. Keep going. sun bathe. water ski. swim. drink. eat. sleep. silence your phone. Do all the great things we yearn for as we toil away in the office after months of work and stress. Except the next time you go, actually read the paper on the plane, ferry, or train. Flip to whatever God awful atrocity is going on in the world at that time, and learn about it. Then, as you arrive at the resort, cabin, bungalow, or hostel, keep the article in your thoughts. I think this can help us become more grateful for what we have, and perhaps more aware of how we can help those in need. Remember that at all times, there is suffering. Personally, I think this is something we should be especially aware of as we swim up to the bar and order another margarita. I hope you do a better job than I did.
Friday, August 13, 2010
Hurricane Hasson Descends on the Vineyard
On Wednesday I awoke with my lovely girlfriend and was soon out the door after a light breakfast. Our dear friend Kara was staying on Martha's Vineyard for the week with her father and brother and we were extended an invitation to join them. Having never been to Martha's Vineyard, I was very excited at the opportunity to explore yet another corner of our great New England region. My only problem was I had to work on Thursday at 3:30 PM. So, the plan was this: take the New Bedford fast ferry at 9:30 AM on Wednesday and arrive at Oak Bluffs at 10:30. Enjoy the day at the Vineyard. Enjoy a great evening with Kara and her family at the vineyard. Wake up, have a light breakfast, and catch the 10:50 AM ferry back to New Bedford.
The trip was awesome. We arrived at Oak Bluffs at the same time as another ferry from Cape Cod, so the area was bustling with activity. There was a bunch of traffic laced with walkers and bikers. Oak Bluffs is a beautiful town set against golden sand beaches with rows of "gingerbread" houses lined against an expansive lawn. It was definitely an area I enjoyed being around. We spent the rest of the morning and much of the afternoon at the house Kara's dad was renting. I was able to meet her brother and father, who I had briefly met before at Saint Mike's, as well as her friend Justin. Justin is an awesome guy with a welcoming spirit and in him I found a new friend on the island.
Our time at the house grew longer and we eventually decided to bike to the beach on one of the island's many bike paths. Upon arriving to the beach, Justin, Kara, Sarah, and I were able to enjoy sandwiches and snacks with one another. I was able to take a quick dip with Justin before we had to leave to head back to the house to prepare for our evening activity: a sun set cruise on a catamaran!
The cruise was from 6 to 8 and it was magnificent in every way. Kara's dad prepared an assortment of snacks including crackers with an Amish blue cheese, grapes, and a great guacamole with chips. Along with all this he bought a bottle of white wine for us to share together. Throughout my short time on Martha's Vineyard, one thing that never ceased to amaze me was how I felt I had known Kara's father for years. He was so incredibly welcoming and generous during my stay on the island.
The cruise left Edgartown and tacked up the island towards Chapaquittek. It was amazing to spend time with Justin, Brendan, Kara, Sarah, and Jim. Upon returning, we stopped at a family-style restaurant to pick up a couple pizzas, drove home, and spent the evening watching the classic "Jaws", which happened to be filmed right on Martha's Vineyard!
The following morning, as any hurricane does, I left the island almost as quickly as I came. When I arrived at the ferry terminal I was shocked to learn the ferry would not be leaving until 12:30! It was stuck in New Bedford because the hurricane barrier locked it in the harbor. And so, before leaving I was able to spend some more quality moments with this group of beautiful people before returning to the mainland.
Sarah decided to return with me, so we walked up to the second deck of the fast ferry together. We sat on the open deck, felt the salty wind whip our hair, and soaked in the sun. We cruised through the cape islands, through Wood's Hole, and back to New Bedford. As we raced along the coast, with a bright sun in the sky, I couldn't help but look over at my beautiful girlfriend and think, my God, what I life I live!!
The trip was awesome. We arrived at Oak Bluffs at the same time as another ferry from Cape Cod, so the area was bustling with activity. There was a bunch of traffic laced with walkers and bikers. Oak Bluffs is a beautiful town set against golden sand beaches with rows of "gingerbread" houses lined against an expansive lawn. It was definitely an area I enjoyed being around. We spent the rest of the morning and much of the afternoon at the house Kara's dad was renting. I was able to meet her brother and father, who I had briefly met before at Saint Mike's, as well as her friend Justin. Justin is an awesome guy with a welcoming spirit and in him I found a new friend on the island.
Our time at the house grew longer and we eventually decided to bike to the beach on one of the island's many bike paths. Upon arriving to the beach, Justin, Kara, Sarah, and I were able to enjoy sandwiches and snacks with one another. I was able to take a quick dip with Justin before we had to leave to head back to the house to prepare for our evening activity: a sun set cruise on a catamaran!
The cruise was from 6 to 8 and it was magnificent in every way. Kara's dad prepared an assortment of snacks including crackers with an Amish blue cheese, grapes, and a great guacamole with chips. Along with all this he bought a bottle of white wine for us to share together. Throughout my short time on Martha's Vineyard, one thing that never ceased to amaze me was how I felt I had known Kara's father for years. He was so incredibly welcoming and generous during my stay on the island.
The cruise left Edgartown and tacked up the island towards Chapaquittek. It was amazing to spend time with Justin, Brendan, Kara, Sarah, and Jim. Upon returning, we stopped at a family-style restaurant to pick up a couple pizzas, drove home, and spent the evening watching the classic "Jaws", which happened to be filmed right on Martha's Vineyard!
The following morning, as any hurricane does, I left the island almost as quickly as I came. When I arrived at the ferry terminal I was shocked to learn the ferry would not be leaving until 12:30! It was stuck in New Bedford because the hurricane barrier locked it in the harbor. And so, before leaving I was able to spend some more quality moments with this group of beautiful people before returning to the mainland.
Sarah decided to return with me, so we walked up to the second deck of the fast ferry together. We sat on the open deck, felt the salty wind whip our hair, and soaked in the sun. We cruised through the cape islands, through Wood's Hole, and back to New Bedford. As we raced along the coast, with a bright sun in the sky, I couldn't help but look over at my beautiful girlfriend and think, my God, what I life I live!!
Saturday, July 10, 2010
Potluck Surprise
The food was set upon some tables in the middle of a park. We thankfully found some shade, set up the tables, and set up the food. There it was, looking at me, taunting me. You see, this was a vegan potluck in Kittery, Maine. It was a gathering of friends to share food and fellowship and to say goodbye to Nat, Sarah's brother who was to move to Tempe, Arizona. Nat is vegan, and this was a vegan potluck.
I don't think people at this potluck were aware of how opportunistic I am with my eating habits. That was probably just as well. The food looked great. There was a dish of mac and cheese, a three layer bean dip, some type of skewered "chicken", and, to top it off, my favorite dessert- whoopie pies. My skepticism was warranted, I tried to tell myself. All sorts of questions kept leaping through my mind, not the least of which was "What the hell is in this?". How can they do this one without eggs? Are they sure there isn't some type of chicken in here? I swear I just tasted some milk! And yet, at the end of the gathering, there was not one dish I could refuse. They were all decadent and it was a wonderful way to meet some of Nat's friends and say goodbye with some great food.
Sarah's parents, Kevin and Diane, were able to go to the pot luck as well. They left around 2:30 to head towards their best friends' house on Newcastle, an island town next to Portsmouth. They invited us to tag along and about an hour later, we too made the short drive down the coast to Newcastle. Along the way, we received a phone call from Diane- their friend's Michael and Chris (short for Christine) were planning on taking their boat out at 4 PM, so we should get there soon.
Michael and Chris's home is wonderful. Set upon the river that flows through Portsmouth and out into the open ocean, their home is on the salt water river and has spectacular frontage. Kevin, Sarah's dad, spends a lot of time with Michael and I have heard the story of "the Chauncy Creek Lobster Pier" often times. Now, coming from a vegan potluck where my culinary comfort zone was stretched to near capacity, I was on my way to crack, snap, and pull my way into my favorite food- lobster.
I helped Kevin load the cooler. Sarah and Diane were on their way to the boat. Michael and Chris's two daughters and one of their son-in-laws were able to join us. And so, the nine of us set off down the river towards Chancy Creek. Michael and Chris's boat is amazing. It's a 36 foot SeaRay with a cabin complete with a bathroom and shower, refrigerator, stove and sleeping for four. There were nine of us lounging on the deck and I still felt like there was only 5 of us. The layout was perfect. I had never been on a boat like this and it was truly a great experience- one I will never forget.
We pulled up to the Chauncy Creek Lobster Pier and met a high school aged guy who helped us tie off the boat. We brought our cooler (it is BYOB as long as they don't sell it), and met with Michael and Chris's other son in law. At two tables, one for the adults and one for the "kids", we began dining on what I consider my staple- lobster, steamers, and shrimp. It was such a great experience to spend time with these great people and eat great food in a beautiful setting. We were at pick-nic tables that were on a pier over looking the creek that opened up to the bay. The place was packed and we were lucky to find tables. I had met Michael and Chris before along with their children when one of their daughters was married last summer. Great folks. Extremely generous and willing to share their life with others. The return trip was just as beautiful as the trip to the pier. As I sipped on a Magic Hat #9, which Kevin bought for me, I soon lost all sense of worry. Sitting on this incredible boat with lobster in my belly sharing the sights with wonderful people made everything right in the world.
I don't think people at this potluck were aware of how opportunistic I am with my eating habits. That was probably just as well. The food looked great. There was a dish of mac and cheese, a three layer bean dip, some type of skewered "chicken", and, to top it off, my favorite dessert- whoopie pies. My skepticism was warranted, I tried to tell myself. All sorts of questions kept leaping through my mind, not the least of which was "What the hell is in this?". How can they do this one without eggs? Are they sure there isn't some type of chicken in here? I swear I just tasted some milk! And yet, at the end of the gathering, there was not one dish I could refuse. They were all decadent and it was a wonderful way to meet some of Nat's friends and say goodbye with some great food.
Sarah's parents, Kevin and Diane, were able to go to the pot luck as well. They left around 2:30 to head towards their best friends' house on Newcastle, an island town next to Portsmouth. They invited us to tag along and about an hour later, we too made the short drive down the coast to Newcastle. Along the way, we received a phone call from Diane- their friend's Michael and Chris (short for Christine) were planning on taking their boat out at 4 PM, so we should get there soon.
Michael and Chris's home is wonderful. Set upon the river that flows through Portsmouth and out into the open ocean, their home is on the salt water river and has spectacular frontage. Kevin, Sarah's dad, spends a lot of time with Michael and I have heard the story of "the Chauncy Creek Lobster Pier" often times. Now, coming from a vegan potluck where my culinary comfort zone was stretched to near capacity, I was on my way to crack, snap, and pull my way into my favorite food- lobster.
I helped Kevin load the cooler. Sarah and Diane were on their way to the boat. Michael and Chris's two daughters and one of their son-in-laws were able to join us. And so, the nine of us set off down the river towards Chancy Creek. Michael and Chris's boat is amazing. It's a 36 foot SeaRay with a cabin complete with a bathroom and shower, refrigerator, stove and sleeping for four. There were nine of us lounging on the deck and I still felt like there was only 5 of us. The layout was perfect. I had never been on a boat like this and it was truly a great experience- one I will never forget.
We pulled up to the Chauncy Creek Lobster Pier and met a high school aged guy who helped us tie off the boat. We brought our cooler (it is BYOB as long as they don't sell it), and met with Michael and Chris's other son in law. At two tables, one for the adults and one for the "kids", we began dining on what I consider my staple- lobster, steamers, and shrimp. It was such a great experience to spend time with these great people and eat great food in a beautiful setting. We were at pick-nic tables that were on a pier over looking the creek that opened up to the bay. The place was packed and we were lucky to find tables. I had met Michael and Chris before along with their children when one of their daughters was married last summer. Great folks. Extremely generous and willing to share their life with others. The return trip was just as beautiful as the trip to the pier. As I sipped on a Magic Hat #9, which Kevin bought for me, I soon lost all sense of worry. Sitting on this incredible boat with lobster in my belly sharing the sights with wonderful people made everything right in the world.
Wednesday, June 30, 2010
Retreat!
To many, the word "retreat" may evoke thoughts of weakness, of turning your back on the enemy and running for safety. Well, run I did! After the wedding in Vermont, I hightailed it over to Maine after spending the night in Derry, NH to break the drive up. On Monday the 21st I drove with Sarah (www.sarahmastersbrown.blogspot.com) to Portland where we hooked up with my dad and rode to camp in his car.
Once at camp, I immediately began to clear my mind. Being 30 feet from the shores of one of Maine's quintessential cold, deep water lakes was the perfect way to recharge my batteries. This is my 23rd summer at the lake and, like a fine wine, it only gets better with age. Sarah stayed until Wednesday when she went back to Portland with my dad, who had to go to a conference for work. I can honestly say that having Sarah with me at camp only enriched my experience. After she left on Wednesday I soon felt an empty space develop in my heart. Camp is great and is something I love very much but it begins to lose its appeal if my partner in crime is not there to experience it with me.
After Sarah left, I spent some quality time with my mum. I spent half a day with her clearing the yard of brush, mowing the lawn, and planting a new garden. Most of my days were spent in the kayak drifting with the rhythm of the lake, lobbing home-tied flies under the docks of our neighbors, trying to spark the interest of a small mouth bass. I fished at least 3 hours every day and the fishing was spectacular! The bass have already spawned this spring but it was still early enough in the summer so they haven't left their nests yet. I caught a small mouth under nearly every dock. On Thursday I was able to hook into and land a small mouth in the 14 inch range and close to 2 pounds! It was a great looking fish and took me nearly 3 minutes to bring into the boat.
This is how I passed my days. I awoke early with my mum and dined on a hearty "camp" breakfast. I fished into the early evening, as the sun began to cast a vast twilight on the lake. It was beautiful, really, to sit on the shores with a heady micro-brew after a day of fishing and relinquish all stress and negative thoughts, letting them pass in the wind.
Once at camp, I immediately began to clear my mind. Being 30 feet from the shores of one of Maine's quintessential cold, deep water lakes was the perfect way to recharge my batteries. This is my 23rd summer at the lake and, like a fine wine, it only gets better with age. Sarah stayed until Wednesday when she went back to Portland with my dad, who had to go to a conference for work. I can honestly say that having Sarah with me at camp only enriched my experience. After she left on Wednesday I soon felt an empty space develop in my heart. Camp is great and is something I love very much but it begins to lose its appeal if my partner in crime is not there to experience it with me.
After Sarah left, I spent some quality time with my mum. I spent half a day with her clearing the yard of brush, mowing the lawn, and planting a new garden. Most of my days were spent in the kayak drifting with the rhythm of the lake, lobbing home-tied flies under the docks of our neighbors, trying to spark the interest of a small mouth bass. I fished at least 3 hours every day and the fishing was spectacular! The bass have already spawned this spring but it was still early enough in the summer so they haven't left their nests yet. I caught a small mouth under nearly every dock. On Thursday I was able to hook into and land a small mouth in the 14 inch range and close to 2 pounds! It was a great looking fish and took me nearly 3 minutes to bring into the boat.
This is how I passed my days. I awoke early with my mum and dined on a hearty "camp" breakfast. I fished into the early evening, as the sun began to cast a vast twilight on the lake. It was beautiful, really, to sit on the shores with a heady micro-brew after a day of fishing and relinquish all stress and negative thoughts, letting them pass in the wind.
Wednesday, June 23, 2010
Vacation!!!
Respite. Retreat. Freedom. Chill time. Hang out. Be cool, be cool. These phrases come to my mind early and often as I descend into the bliss and harmony that surrounds what I consider to be one of the most beautiful creations known to man kind: vacation.
I started my vacation on Saturday, June 19th. It was a glorious Saturday complete with a crisp blue sky and temperatures in the upper 70s. I left Providence around 8 AM and headed north to Derry, New Hampshire. There, I picked up the love of my life, Sarah Coghlan (www.sarahmastersbrown.blogspot.com) and together we drove to Burlington, Vermont.
Earlier this year we were invited to the wedding of some dear friends from Saint Michael's College. Both a year ahead of us, they have been dating since high school and have finally tied the knot. I know the groom from the fly fishing club. Sarah was one of the bride's roommates Junior year after returning from Spain. We arrived in Burlington around 2 PM and after some light shopping on Church Street, we checked into the GGT Tibet Inn and prepared for the wedding ceremony.
The ceremony took place at Saint Michael's College Chapel at 4:00 PM. It was an absolutely beautiful ceremony. The groom is not Catholic, however the ceremony was officiated by an Edmundite and, to me at least, was very similar to a Catholic wedding ceremony except for the absence of Communion. Nevertheless, the ceremony was wonderful, with a procession complete with a bagpiper. Afterwards, I retreated to the motel room with Sarah for a short rest before the reception.
At the reception, which had all the goodies of a traditional reception- open bar for the first hour, a nice meal, great toasts, and endless dancing- I was able to connect with and converse with a professor I had at Saint Michael's. I had the privilege of taking 2 Psychology courses and 1 Gender Studies course with this man. He is an unbelievable teacher and inspired, and continues to inspire, me to be a better person in and out of the classroom. He has the uncanny ability to speak with men and women of countless backgrounds and instill in them a desire to learn. Although he was not my formal advisor and I did not participate in any research with him, I consider him to be my academic mentor at Saint Michael's College. At this wedding, I was blessed to share his company as a friend and witness the love and friendship that was before us.
While sitting and talking at the reception, this man spoke with me about his table and how the men and women who were at it have been friends not for years, but for decades. He shared his experience of sharing dinner with these people once a month and how blessed he was to be a part of their lives. He spoke with me about the bride and groom and how they invited people who were able to share an authentic acknowledgment of their love for one another. As we looked around the room, this great man explained how everyone in the room was able to share love and friendship for the bride and groom. This, to me, seemed very special. Thinking back on this night, I can't help but think of great food, fellowship, and dancing that occurred throughout the evening. And yet, what was most special for me was being able to sit with this man, my mentor, and, as if we were in a classroom at Saint Michael's, he forced me to think critically about an experience and, in the end I became a better person for it. As I looked around the room I saw the opportunity for people to come together in the name of love and share friendship for two people beginning a life together. I don't think I would have thought about this if I didn't speak with this man.
I started my vacation on Saturday, June 19th. It was a glorious Saturday complete with a crisp blue sky and temperatures in the upper 70s. I left Providence around 8 AM and headed north to Derry, New Hampshire. There, I picked up the love of my life, Sarah Coghlan (www.sarahmastersbrown.blogspot.com) and together we drove to Burlington, Vermont.
Earlier this year we were invited to the wedding of some dear friends from Saint Michael's College. Both a year ahead of us, they have been dating since high school and have finally tied the knot. I know the groom from the fly fishing club. Sarah was one of the bride's roommates Junior year after returning from Spain. We arrived in Burlington around 2 PM and after some light shopping on Church Street, we checked into the GGT Tibet Inn and prepared for the wedding ceremony.
The ceremony took place at Saint Michael's College Chapel at 4:00 PM. It was an absolutely beautiful ceremony. The groom is not Catholic, however the ceremony was officiated by an Edmundite and, to me at least, was very similar to a Catholic wedding ceremony except for the absence of Communion. Nevertheless, the ceremony was wonderful, with a procession complete with a bagpiper. Afterwards, I retreated to the motel room with Sarah for a short rest before the reception.
At the reception, which had all the goodies of a traditional reception- open bar for the first hour, a nice meal, great toasts, and endless dancing- I was able to connect with and converse with a professor I had at Saint Michael's. I had the privilege of taking 2 Psychology courses and 1 Gender Studies course with this man. He is an unbelievable teacher and inspired, and continues to inspire, me to be a better person in and out of the classroom. He has the uncanny ability to speak with men and women of countless backgrounds and instill in them a desire to learn. Although he was not my formal advisor and I did not participate in any research with him, I consider him to be my academic mentor at Saint Michael's College. At this wedding, I was blessed to share his company as a friend and witness the love and friendship that was before us.
While sitting and talking at the reception, this man spoke with me about his table and how the men and women who were at it have been friends not for years, but for decades. He shared his experience of sharing dinner with these people once a month and how blessed he was to be a part of their lives. He spoke with me about the bride and groom and how they invited people who were able to share an authentic acknowledgment of their love for one another. As we looked around the room, this great man explained how everyone in the room was able to share love and friendship for the bride and groom. This, to me, seemed very special. Thinking back on this night, I can't help but think of great food, fellowship, and dancing that occurred throughout the evening. And yet, what was most special for me was being able to sit with this man, my mentor, and, as if we were in a classroom at Saint Michael's, he forced me to think critically about an experience and, in the end I became a better person for it. As I looked around the room I saw the opportunity for people to come together in the name of love and share friendship for two people beginning a life together. I don't think I would have thought about this if I didn't speak with this man.
Tuesday, June 1, 2010
Summer is here!
Yes, it is indeed here. Not because yesterday was Memorial Day, a day to remember and honor those who have sacrificed their lives for our country, and not because the heat and humidity have finally descended upon us leaving my shirt to cling to my back in a moist grip. No, summer has finally arrived because this past weekend marked my first trip to my family's summer camp in Central Maine.
The camp has been in my mom's family for many years. After my grandparents passed away, they left to camp to my mom and my uncle Tony. Together, they sold the camp and bought a new property that is right on the water of a deep, clean, spring fed lake. I was born in April of 1987 and in June of that year I started coming to camp. This is a such an important part of my life and it holds a special place in my heart. I will be posting quite a bit about my adventures in this great land for the next few months.
I went to camp this past Saturday with my dad and my sister. My mom was in Michigan with her Odyssey of the Mind team and was unable to come. We arrived around 6 PM Saturday evening. After unloading the groceries and helping my dad and my sister unload their bags and settle into the camp, I set forth with one of my favorite hobbies- fishing.
I used the canoe to paddle out from our shore about 20 feet. The water was quite calm, with scattered clouds and little wind. I paddled to our neighbor's dock (ours isn't in the water yet), and faced their dock from about 20 feet away. With a home-tied black wooly bugger, I began casting right in front of their dock. While slowly stripping in the line, after 5 or 6 casts, whack! A really nice small mouth bass, maybe 10 inches long. Great, healthy looking fish. I started to drift to another neighbor's dock and after no more than 5 casts- whack!- I had another fish on! This one fought for about a minute. It turned out to be another small mouth bass. It was probably in the 12 to 14 inch range and was probably 2 pounds. What a great fish!! Great girth and it had a nice, healthy color.
It was beginning to get dark so I paddled in and called it a night. Two fish on the first night! It was a great start to the summer!! Meghan made a great spaghetti pie which the three of us heartily ate. I shared a micro-brew with my dad- Shipyard's summer ale. It was a great wheat ale with a nice malt body and just the slightest hint of lemon- a great way to enjoy the sun setting on the lake and the yodeling of the loons echoing off the water.
Although a short trip, it was worth every mile. Rain or shine, this is my favorite place in the world. I love being up there, knowing the history of the camp and the memories I have from spending time with family and friends.
The camp has been in my mom's family for many years. After my grandparents passed away, they left to camp to my mom and my uncle Tony. Together, they sold the camp and bought a new property that is right on the water of a deep, clean, spring fed lake. I was born in April of 1987 and in June of that year I started coming to camp. This is a such an important part of my life and it holds a special place in my heart. I will be posting quite a bit about my adventures in this great land for the next few months.
I went to camp this past Saturday with my dad and my sister. My mom was in Michigan with her Odyssey of the Mind team and was unable to come. We arrived around 6 PM Saturday evening. After unloading the groceries and helping my dad and my sister unload their bags and settle into the camp, I set forth with one of my favorite hobbies- fishing.
I used the canoe to paddle out from our shore about 20 feet. The water was quite calm, with scattered clouds and little wind. I paddled to our neighbor's dock (ours isn't in the water yet), and faced their dock from about 20 feet away. With a home-tied black wooly bugger, I began casting right in front of their dock. While slowly stripping in the line, after 5 or 6 casts, whack! A really nice small mouth bass, maybe 10 inches long. Great, healthy looking fish. I started to drift to another neighbor's dock and after no more than 5 casts- whack!- I had another fish on! This one fought for about a minute. It turned out to be another small mouth bass. It was probably in the 12 to 14 inch range and was probably 2 pounds. What a great fish!! Great girth and it had a nice, healthy color.
It was beginning to get dark so I paddled in and called it a night. Two fish on the first night! It was a great start to the summer!! Meghan made a great spaghetti pie which the three of us heartily ate. I shared a micro-brew with my dad- Shipyard's summer ale. It was a great wheat ale with a nice malt body and just the slightest hint of lemon- a great way to enjoy the sun setting on the lake and the yodeling of the loons echoing off the water.
Although a short trip, it was worth every mile. Rain or shine, this is my favorite place in the world. I love being up there, knowing the history of the camp and the memories I have from spending time with family and friends.
Monday, May 24, 2010
Solo
Last Tuesday Sarah left for an eight week trip to El Savador to create a documentary on sustainable food aid. I know, I know, she's changing the world and making so many great things while helping those in need. It's awesome. What isn't as awesome is being here alone. Some thoughts:
I think it's actually a good thing to be able to spend time apart from someone you love. For the past week or so I have really enjoyed some alone time- being able to dive into some much needed reading, working on some photography, and writing. These are all great things that I enjoy, but at the end of the day there is this void when I lay in bed and feel an empty space next to me. Imagine ordering an unbelievable calzone, filled with fresh peppers, onions, mushrooms, a nice mozzarella, and you take the first bite and all you get is an empty, cavernous dough. Okay, did I just equate being away from Sarah to eating a calzone? Yes. Does it make sense? Possibly not, however I hope the point gets across.
These past few days have begun to get progressively harder to deal with being without Sarah. It's been great to email her and read about her great adventures (www.sarahmastersbrown.blogspot.com). I hope that in the coming weeks I get into a groove and find new ways to manage the sadness of being without her. I've been so lucky to have received phone calls from her on a few occasions and hope those continue.
On another note, I have received my internship for the fall!! I will be pursuing an MSW from Boston College and will be conducting my field placement at the MET school in Providence, RI!! I am so excited about this opportunity to work with high school students from many different backgrounds in a very progressive school setting. I hope to share more with you as the adventure unfolds.
Only seven weeks to go...
I think it's actually a good thing to be able to spend time apart from someone you love. For the past week or so I have really enjoyed some alone time- being able to dive into some much needed reading, working on some photography, and writing. These are all great things that I enjoy, but at the end of the day there is this void when I lay in bed and feel an empty space next to me. Imagine ordering an unbelievable calzone, filled with fresh peppers, onions, mushrooms, a nice mozzarella, and you take the first bite and all you get is an empty, cavernous dough. Okay, did I just equate being away from Sarah to eating a calzone? Yes. Does it make sense? Possibly not, however I hope the point gets across.
These past few days have begun to get progressively harder to deal with being without Sarah. It's been great to email her and read about her great adventures (www.sarahmastersbrown.blogspot.com). I hope that in the coming weeks I get into a groove and find new ways to manage the sadness of being without her. I've been so lucky to have received phone calls from her on a few occasions and hope those continue.
On another note, I have received my internship for the fall!! I will be pursuing an MSW from Boston College and will be conducting my field placement at the MET school in Providence, RI!! I am so excited about this opportunity to work with high school students from many different backgrounds in a very progressive school setting. I hope to share more with you as the adventure unfolds.
Only seven weeks to go...
Friday, April 23, 2010
A Peace on Debt
My girlfriend Sarah is in the midst of a graduate progam at Brown University (www.sarahmastersbrown.blogspot.com). She is pursuing a masters degree in Public Health and, like her beauty, the depth of her brilliance is endless. Earlier this Spring she was accepted for a fellowship which will allow her to travel to El Salvador for up to 12 weeks and study sustainable agriculture and food aid. Initially I was excited about the idea of going with her for part of her trip. However, in recent weeks the reality of my situation has decended upon me like a swarm of bees on a pollen saturated field of flowers. The situation that prevents me from realistically traveling with Sarah can be summed up in one word: Debt.
I have a substantial amount of student debt to pay off from my time as an undergraduate at Saint Michael's College. Along with this debt I have a monthly car payment, monthly rent, monthly utilites, weekly gas for my car and groceries for my belly. As these responsibilities came to fruition in my mind, I became more and more bitter about Sarah's trip. Right now I can say with honesty that I was beyond immature. I was childish. I acted as if I was the 7 year old crying at a classmate's birthday party because I was not receiving any gifts. Fortunately, Sarah and I had a long talk about how my position on the situation has hurt her feelings. After this talk I was able to reflect on my situation with debt and have become more peaceful about this financial burden. At the same time, I have clarified my reality and have centered my debt-laced chi.
Project on Student Debt has reported that the average level of debt for graduating seniors with student loans in 2008 was 23,200 dollars(projectonstudentdebt.org). Reading this, I feel as though I am with the pack as far as statistics go. I became bitter and jealous about this because many of my friends graduated with no debt, and have the freedom to move around, travel, and live with more financial ease. With Sarah, I was particularly jealous because she is able to travel with a fellowship and I am not. Much reflection has been spent on this idea and I feel I have come out with a clearer idea of my place in the world right now.
My reality is not travelling to El Salvador to film a documentary. Sarah has worked incredibly hard for this opprtunity and she deserves it and more. My reality is living in Providence, working at a group home, and becoming involved with the community I live in. I have debt that needs to be paid. That is my reality. Knowing this does not and should not prevent me from becoming a more active member of my community and a better person. Of course I want to travel the world with Sarah and of course I will miss her like no other. But right now, that is not my reality. Right now I need to concentrate on helping my clients at the group home live happy and healthy lives. This is my reality. Feeling bitter and jealous about Sarah's trip was a new low for me. With this, however, I've been able to gain a new perspective of Providence that I did not see before. My reality is clearer to me now than ever before and I with this comes excitement for what the summer will bring.
I have a substantial amount of student debt to pay off from my time as an undergraduate at Saint Michael's College. Along with this debt I have a monthly car payment, monthly rent, monthly utilites, weekly gas for my car and groceries for my belly. As these responsibilities came to fruition in my mind, I became more and more bitter about Sarah's trip. Right now I can say with honesty that I was beyond immature. I was childish. I acted as if I was the 7 year old crying at a classmate's birthday party because I was not receiving any gifts. Fortunately, Sarah and I had a long talk about how my position on the situation has hurt her feelings. After this talk I was able to reflect on my situation with debt and have become more peaceful about this financial burden. At the same time, I have clarified my reality and have centered my debt-laced chi.
Project on Student Debt has reported that the average level of debt for graduating seniors with student loans in 2008 was 23,200 dollars(projectonstudentdebt.org). Reading this, I feel as though I am with the pack as far as statistics go. I became bitter and jealous about this because many of my friends graduated with no debt, and have the freedom to move around, travel, and live with more financial ease. With Sarah, I was particularly jealous because she is able to travel with a fellowship and I am not. Much reflection has been spent on this idea and I feel I have come out with a clearer idea of my place in the world right now.
My reality is not travelling to El Salvador to film a documentary. Sarah has worked incredibly hard for this opprtunity and she deserves it and more. My reality is living in Providence, working at a group home, and becoming involved with the community I live in. I have debt that needs to be paid. That is my reality. Knowing this does not and should not prevent me from becoming a more active member of my community and a better person. Of course I want to travel the world with Sarah and of course I will miss her like no other. But right now, that is not my reality. Right now I need to concentrate on helping my clients at the group home live happy and healthy lives. This is my reality. Feeling bitter and jealous about Sarah's trip was a new low for me. With this, however, I've been able to gain a new perspective of Providence that I did not see before. My reality is clearer to me now than ever before and I with this comes excitement for what the summer will bring.
Wednesday, April 14, 2010
"Love One Another, And Vote As I Too"
Although the Catholic Church is steeped in a global scandal involving sexual abuse committed by priests, I'd like to write about a scandal that is closer to home. The Portland Press Herald on March 24, 2010 reported "The bishop and a national organization end financial support after Preble Street backs same-sex marriage" (Diocese penalizes homeless aid group, 3/24/10). Because Homeless Voices for Justice, an organization within Preble Street, supported no on 1 to repeal the Gay Marriage Bill last November, the Bishop has authorized taking 17,400 dollars as well as an additional 33,000 from the Preble Street.
The money the bishop has authorized to take away would, in my opinion, undoubtedly have gone directly to the benefit of homeless people. I'm very skeptical to believe the money would have gone to phone banks, donation drives, or other actions to directly support the no on 1 campaign. In fact, to everyone's knowledge, this is true. The group took a stand on the issue because, as an organization supporting people from all walks of life, they have a moral obligation to help people from all walks of life. Funny, I thought that's what the Catholic Church strives to do as well?
By taking away money that would have benefited hundreds of people who are supported by Homeless Voices for Justice, Bishop Malone has helped transform the Portland Diocese into a hypocrisy I hope many will begin to notice. The Golden Rule that is spoke in Church time and again, "Love one another as I have loved you", should now read "Love one another, as long as you vote with me, too".
Forget the fact that the politics of the Catholic Church slay the rights of human beings all across Southern Maine, Bishop Malone has revolutionized the role of the Catholic Church, specifically in Maine, and it's time for Catholics everywhere to stand as one against the hypocrisy and lack of respect that Bishop Malone has expressed to the homeless across Southern Maine. His decision to rescind the money given to Homeless Voices for Justice is petty, disrespectful, and pathetic. He not only supports denying thousands of people across Maine a basic civil right, his actions now create a much more difficult obstacle for homeless men and women to overcome.
I hope people continue to donate to the Church. I only suggest that instead of blindly throwing money into a wicker basket that is passed around on Sunday, give it directly to your pastor and ask him directly in the eye "where will this money go". If he cannot provide an answer, or the answer is a weak talking point, I would kindly turn around, walk out the door, and give the cash or rewrite a check to the nearest social service agency.
I think it may be appropriate to end this bluntly: The total funds taken back from Homeless Voices for Justice by the Catholic Church totals at least 50,400 dollars. Please think about how many homeless men, women, and children could have benefited from these funds.
The money the bishop has authorized to take away would, in my opinion, undoubtedly have gone directly to the benefit of homeless people. I'm very skeptical to believe the money would have gone to phone banks, donation drives, or other actions to directly support the no on 1 campaign. In fact, to everyone's knowledge, this is true. The group took a stand on the issue because, as an organization supporting people from all walks of life, they have a moral obligation to help people from all walks of life. Funny, I thought that's what the Catholic Church strives to do as well?
By taking away money that would have benefited hundreds of people who are supported by Homeless Voices for Justice, Bishop Malone has helped transform the Portland Diocese into a hypocrisy I hope many will begin to notice. The Golden Rule that is spoke in Church time and again, "Love one another as I have loved you", should now read "Love one another, as long as you vote with me, too".
Forget the fact that the politics of the Catholic Church slay the rights of human beings all across Southern Maine, Bishop Malone has revolutionized the role of the Catholic Church, specifically in Maine, and it's time for Catholics everywhere to stand as one against the hypocrisy and lack of respect that Bishop Malone has expressed to the homeless across Southern Maine. His decision to rescind the money given to Homeless Voices for Justice is petty, disrespectful, and pathetic. He not only supports denying thousands of people across Maine a basic civil right, his actions now create a much more difficult obstacle for homeless men and women to overcome.
I hope people continue to donate to the Church. I only suggest that instead of blindly throwing money into a wicker basket that is passed around on Sunday, give it directly to your pastor and ask him directly in the eye "where will this money go". If he cannot provide an answer, or the answer is a weak talking point, I would kindly turn around, walk out the door, and give the cash or rewrite a check to the nearest social service agency.
I think it may be appropriate to end this bluntly: The total funds taken back from Homeless Voices for Justice by the Catholic Church totals at least 50,400 dollars. Please think about how many homeless men, women, and children could have benefited from these funds.
Sunday, April 4, 2010
He is Risen He is Risen!!!
As a lifelong Catholic I wanted to take today, being Easter, to write about the importance of family, faith, and renewal.
Easter for me has always been a time to gather with friends and family to share food and fellowship and celebrate the idea that our God, Jesus Christ, has risen. Now, when it comes to religion, I'm very introverted. In fact, I was contemplating evening blogging about it. I am blogging about Easter and how it can relate to our lives because I think this is a great opportunity to take a day and think about the renewal of a season, and how we can renew a part of our life. Today, thinking of how Christ has risen, we can take steps to rise with him to greater heights. With this I mean we can be greater husbands, wives, sisters, brothers, sons, daughters, uncles, and aunts. We can strive to rise to new heights for the benefit of our community and more specifically the ones we love.
Two days ago, on Good Friday, Catholics around the world remembered the death of Jesus Christ. Growing up, I was always taught in school that Christ died for our sins and for the sins of all humanity. Today my experiences with traveling and studying other cultures has renewed my idea of why Christ died. I believe Christ was a rogue. I believe his actions were wildly unpopular. I believe he died because he conducted work within his community that benefited countless numbers of people while angering a few, very powerful people. I urge you to think of Christ's death as a sacrifice for working towards the health and well being of people all over the world. We too can continue Christ's work of helping others, hopefully with risks other than death. We should strive to overcome the taboos, stereotypes, and political backlash that can prevent us from doing Christ's work- helping others in times of need. Are gay rights popular in the Catholic Church? Women's rights? They may not be. But the Christ I worship would rise above the politics and taboo of society and help those who are marginalized and persecuted.
And so today, my loyal readers, I wish for you an opportunity to spend time with family, friends, and loved ones. I hope this post gives you a different idea of what Christ's death and resurrection are all about. We can renew our lives and act as Christ did- for the benefit of beings everywhere.
Peace.
Easter for me has always been a time to gather with friends and family to share food and fellowship and celebrate the idea that our God, Jesus Christ, has risen. Now, when it comes to religion, I'm very introverted. In fact, I was contemplating evening blogging about it. I am blogging about Easter and how it can relate to our lives because I think this is a great opportunity to take a day and think about the renewal of a season, and how we can renew a part of our life. Today, thinking of how Christ has risen, we can take steps to rise with him to greater heights. With this I mean we can be greater husbands, wives, sisters, brothers, sons, daughters, uncles, and aunts. We can strive to rise to new heights for the benefit of our community and more specifically the ones we love.
Two days ago, on Good Friday, Catholics around the world remembered the death of Jesus Christ. Growing up, I was always taught in school that Christ died for our sins and for the sins of all humanity. Today my experiences with traveling and studying other cultures has renewed my idea of why Christ died. I believe Christ was a rogue. I believe his actions were wildly unpopular. I believe he died because he conducted work within his community that benefited countless numbers of people while angering a few, very powerful people. I urge you to think of Christ's death as a sacrifice for working towards the health and well being of people all over the world. We too can continue Christ's work of helping others, hopefully with risks other than death. We should strive to overcome the taboos, stereotypes, and political backlash that can prevent us from doing Christ's work- helping others in times of need. Are gay rights popular in the Catholic Church? Women's rights? They may not be. But the Christ I worship would rise above the politics and taboo of society and help those who are marginalized and persecuted.
And so today, my loyal readers, I wish for you an opportunity to spend time with family, friends, and loved ones. I hope this post gives you a different idea of what Christ's death and resurrection are all about. We can renew our lives and act as Christ did- for the benefit of beings everywhere.
Peace.
Saturday, April 3, 2010
A little less wise.
Yesterday, April 2, at 9:00 AM in Greenville, Rhode Island, I had my four wisdom teeth extracted. It was a bizarre experience!
Now unfortunately, I've had my fair share of Novocain in my life, so yesterday was no surprise in that respect. What was a surprise was the idea that the "laughing gas" was supposed to calm my nerves, and bring me to a more manageable place, when in fact, I didn't feel any different! Sarah has explained to me that it worked because I was so easy to deal with. Either way, I didn't feel high or happy or "laughy".
Nevertheless, when I first sat in the dentist's chair, the nurse explained to me how the procedure would go forth. First: the gas. Calm the nerves, float the mind. Second: Inject the Novocain. With more than one cavity, this didn't really startle me. What startled me was the last step: Extraction.
For close to an hour I had a guy with a scalpel, a one-pronged fork, and an occasional drill snapping, crunching, pulling, pushing, and drilling his way to each of my four wisdom teeth. He was great, explaining each step before he went forth and letting me know when things might be a little extra uncomfortable. By the time he reached my last tooth, the Novocain was wearing off and I needed a couple extra shots to really mask the fact that he was drilling a hole not too far from my jaw bone, yanking tooth from my head. The entire procedure, start to finish, was a little over an hour. And with the help of an Ipod that was blasting Miles Davis' "Kind of Blue", it was almost enjoyable!
Sarah drove me in the morning and when I met her out in the waiting room, I saw that she bought me a heart shaped balloon tied to a part pack of chocolate pudding!! It was a great way to meet the world after having my mouth assaulted with various tools, drugs, and maneuvers. She drove me home and made me a nice bed on our couch, caring for me and helping me be as comfortable as possible. Soon, her mom was there as well. When Sarah's mom arrived at our place, Sarah ran out to grab my prescriptions (a pain killer and an antibiotic). It was only about two hours until the Novocain wore off and let me assure all of you: when it did, I was in more pain than I have ever felt in my life. Now, I guess when I think about that means I've been pretty lucky in my life. Whatever, call me a baby, but I was in more pain yesterday than I can ever remember.
About an hour after Sarah's mom arrived, my mom and her friend Judy came down from Maine. It was so great to have four women who I love caring for me in my time of pain and anguish!! I rested for another couple of hours, took a pain killer, then got in the car for the three hour drive to Maine. I know many of you are reading this thinking I was a fool to get in that car for the ride home, and yes I am a little less wise (pun intended), but being Easter weekend, it just felt right to go home. I slept for most of the ride and when I got home I had my dad, sister, and my mum here to take care of me.
So, the day went according to plan. I most definitely underestimated the amount of pain I would be in after the procedure, but I survived with the help of Sarah and her mom taking care of me right after the appointment, my mom and Judy taking me home, and my dad and sister providing help once I arrived in Maine. Thanks to all who helped!!!
Peace.
Now unfortunately, I've had my fair share of Novocain in my life, so yesterday was no surprise in that respect. What was a surprise was the idea that the "laughing gas" was supposed to calm my nerves, and bring me to a more manageable place, when in fact, I didn't feel any different! Sarah has explained to me that it worked because I was so easy to deal with. Either way, I didn't feel high or happy or "laughy".
Nevertheless, when I first sat in the dentist's chair, the nurse explained to me how the procedure would go forth. First: the gas. Calm the nerves, float the mind. Second: Inject the Novocain. With more than one cavity, this didn't really startle me. What startled me was the last step: Extraction.
For close to an hour I had a guy with a scalpel, a one-pronged fork, and an occasional drill snapping, crunching, pulling, pushing, and drilling his way to each of my four wisdom teeth. He was great, explaining each step before he went forth and letting me know when things might be a little extra uncomfortable. By the time he reached my last tooth, the Novocain was wearing off and I needed a couple extra shots to really mask the fact that he was drilling a hole not too far from my jaw bone, yanking tooth from my head. The entire procedure, start to finish, was a little over an hour. And with the help of an Ipod that was blasting Miles Davis' "Kind of Blue", it was almost enjoyable!
Sarah drove me in the morning and when I met her out in the waiting room, I saw that she bought me a heart shaped balloon tied to a part pack of chocolate pudding!! It was a great way to meet the world after having my mouth assaulted with various tools, drugs, and maneuvers. She drove me home and made me a nice bed on our couch, caring for me and helping me be as comfortable as possible. Soon, her mom was there as well. When Sarah's mom arrived at our place, Sarah ran out to grab my prescriptions (a pain killer and an antibiotic). It was only about two hours until the Novocain wore off and let me assure all of you: when it did, I was in more pain than I have ever felt in my life. Now, I guess when I think about that means I've been pretty lucky in my life. Whatever, call me a baby, but I was in more pain yesterday than I can ever remember.
About an hour after Sarah's mom arrived, my mom and her friend Judy came down from Maine. It was so great to have four women who I love caring for me in my time of pain and anguish!! I rested for another couple of hours, took a pain killer, then got in the car for the three hour drive to Maine. I know many of you are reading this thinking I was a fool to get in that car for the ride home, and yes I am a little less wise (pun intended), but being Easter weekend, it just felt right to go home. I slept for most of the ride and when I got home I had my dad, sister, and my mum here to take care of me.
So, the day went according to plan. I most definitely underestimated the amount of pain I would be in after the procedure, but I survived with the help of Sarah and her mom taking care of me right after the appointment, my mom and Judy taking me home, and my dad and sister providing help once I arrived in Maine. Thanks to all who helped!!!
Peace.
Sunday, March 21, 2010
Struck!!
Yesterday I was struck by a car while riding my bike in Providence. Let me write that once more. Yesterday I was struck by a car while riding my bike in Providence.
I am unscathed, at least physically. I was riding my bike in the the biking lane and was approaching an intersection. A care pulled out in front of me from the bike lane. I managed to pass this car, however he passed me once more and pulled back into the bike line to park, swiping me off from my bike in the process. Now, we were both going under 5 miles per hour, but it's interesting how fast that seems when you're struck by an object much more powerful than the one you're riding.
I managed to get off my bike and run for a few yards before coming to a rest, hands on my knees, out of breath from a combination of actually biking and a rush of adrenaline from being struck by the car. The driver, a man, came out and was immediately apologetic, going through the "I'm so sorry" and "I didn't even see you" as fast as the words could come out of his mouth. Not being hurt, I was more interested in moving on with my day than I was with going over the accident. He insisted on giving me his name and number, which I took. My bike turned out to be okay, although I'm sure his car was scratched somewhere along the way.
So what does this mean for the future? Should I stop riding my bike in Providence for fear of the abundance of drivers who seem to have slept through driver's ed (oddly enough, this guy was from Massachusetts)? Or should I mount my steel stallion once again and take to the road with assurance and pride? The answer is the latter. In this case, it was clearly his fault. He passed me, knowing there was a biker in the bike lane, and swerved back into the bike lane for a parking spot. Now, questions would arise as to whether or not I saw his blinker. I can answer that by describing the car's right rear blinker, the one he should have been using, as a sad, dilapidated bulb dragging on the asphalt, clinging to some sort of hope for passing the car's next inspection. So this pathetic excuse for a blinker was useless, and even if the driver used it as he should have, there would be no way for anyone to see it.
The message here is for drivers and bikers alike: As we use the road, let's be mindful of each other so people on bikes can travel to work, exercise, or just recreate in the beautiful weather as I was without fear of being swiped off the road by a mindless automobile driver. Roads are not only for cars. We are all smart people, so let's maximize the use of roads.
Share the Road,
Rob
I am unscathed, at least physically. I was riding my bike in the the biking lane and was approaching an intersection. A care pulled out in front of me from the bike lane. I managed to pass this car, however he passed me once more and pulled back into the bike line to park, swiping me off from my bike in the process. Now, we were both going under 5 miles per hour, but it's interesting how fast that seems when you're struck by an object much more powerful than the one you're riding.
I managed to get off my bike and run for a few yards before coming to a rest, hands on my knees, out of breath from a combination of actually biking and a rush of adrenaline from being struck by the car. The driver, a man, came out and was immediately apologetic, going through the "I'm so sorry" and "I didn't even see you" as fast as the words could come out of his mouth. Not being hurt, I was more interested in moving on with my day than I was with going over the accident. He insisted on giving me his name and number, which I took. My bike turned out to be okay, although I'm sure his car was scratched somewhere along the way.
So what does this mean for the future? Should I stop riding my bike in Providence for fear of the abundance of drivers who seem to have slept through driver's ed (oddly enough, this guy was from Massachusetts)? Or should I mount my steel stallion once again and take to the road with assurance and pride? The answer is the latter. In this case, it was clearly his fault. He passed me, knowing there was a biker in the bike lane, and swerved back into the bike lane for a parking spot. Now, questions would arise as to whether or not I saw his blinker. I can answer that by describing the car's right rear blinker, the one he should have been using, as a sad, dilapidated bulb dragging on the asphalt, clinging to some sort of hope for passing the car's next inspection. So this pathetic excuse for a blinker was useless, and even if the driver used it as he should have, there would be no way for anyone to see it.
The message here is for drivers and bikers alike: As we use the road, let's be mindful of each other so people on bikes can travel to work, exercise, or just recreate in the beautiful weather as I was without fear of being swiped off the road by a mindless automobile driver. Roads are not only for cars. We are all smart people, so let's maximize the use of roads.
Share the Road,
Rob
Monday, March 15, 2010
Good News!!
Hello Everyone!! It's been far too long since the last post, but I thought I'd take this opportunity to share some exciting news.
About two weeks ago I was sleeping in my bed, trying to catch up on some zzzs before working a second shift. Sarah was already up and ready to head to class. Being the beautiful woman she is, she pecked my cheek with a soft kiss and wished me a good day. Hovering in the realm of slumber, I mumbled back my own interpretation of the same sentiment. Then, she left. What seemed like hours later, probably because I was intoxicated with sleep, I heard the rush of stomped feet come rushing up the stairs. It had been only a couple minutes. Still well in sleep mode, I couldn't understand what was happening, but when I heard the door to our apartment abruptly open, I assumed there was a shooting in the streets of Providence, or worse, and Sarah was coming into safety. Then, what sounded like an echo being voiced through a steel drum rushed to my ears.
"Rob! Rob! Your letter from BC is here!" i could hear Sarah say.
She was sitting on my side of the bed. I sat up, with eyes glazed over like a donut, and reached for whatever she was giving me. It was indeed an envelope from Boston College and in it was a letter informing me of my acceptance into the Graduate School of Social Work's Master in Social Work Program for the fall of 2010!!!
WOOO HOOO!!!!!!!! I DID IT!!!!!!!!
So, I hoisted myself out from the depths of sleep, still believing this was a dream, ate a delicious breakfast without taking my eyes off the letter. I would later get a phone call from Sarah informing me of a letter from Rhode Island College in our mailbox, but she didn't have time to retrieve it for me. And so, I would come to find out that I was accepted into two graduate programs for the fall of 2010! I can barely describe here on this blog how excited I am to be going back to school, continuing my education, and furthering my goals and dreams. Much more will come as to what my plans will be. For now, I am so excited to let you all know that I've been accepted into two graduate programs.
Peace.
About two weeks ago I was sleeping in my bed, trying to catch up on some zzzs before working a second shift. Sarah was already up and ready to head to class. Being the beautiful woman she is, she pecked my cheek with a soft kiss and wished me a good day. Hovering in the realm of slumber, I mumbled back my own interpretation of the same sentiment. Then, she left. What seemed like hours later, probably because I was intoxicated with sleep, I heard the rush of stomped feet come rushing up the stairs. It had been only a couple minutes. Still well in sleep mode, I couldn't understand what was happening, but when I heard the door to our apartment abruptly open, I assumed there was a shooting in the streets of Providence, or worse, and Sarah was coming into safety. Then, what sounded like an echo being voiced through a steel drum rushed to my ears.
"Rob! Rob! Your letter from BC is here!" i could hear Sarah say.
She was sitting on my side of the bed. I sat up, with eyes glazed over like a donut, and reached for whatever she was giving me. It was indeed an envelope from Boston College and in it was a letter informing me of my acceptance into the Graduate School of Social Work's Master in Social Work Program for the fall of 2010!!!
WOOO HOOO!!!!!!!! I DID IT!!!!!!!!
So, I hoisted myself out from the depths of sleep, still believing this was a dream, ate a delicious breakfast without taking my eyes off the letter. I would later get a phone call from Sarah informing me of a letter from Rhode Island College in our mailbox, but she didn't have time to retrieve it for me. And so, I would come to find out that I was accepted into two graduate programs for the fall of 2010! I can barely describe here on this blog how excited I am to be going back to school, continuing my education, and furthering my goals and dreams. Much more will come as to what my plans will be. For now, I am so excited to let you all know that I've been accepted into two graduate programs.
Peace.
Wednesday, February 10, 2010
a new challenge.
I feel naked. Not literally, but pretty exposed nonetheless.
I feel naked because I am now completely aware of the reality that is living outside of the college bubble. This encompasses many aspects of my life at this current time, many of which will probably appear on this blog. Tonight though, the theme will be stress, particularly the stress that I feel at work.
Now I must stress that I have indeed held jobs in previous years. Yes, they were part time and yes, some involved the care of children in a pool in the midst of a Maine summer or the care of school children on a basketball court. So as you can gather, the level of stress that I've felt in the work place can be summised as minimal. So here I am, in the world of benefit packages, 401Ks, and vacation time, slowly dipping my toe into the ever more complicated "real world". Lately, stress at my job has become a more prominent aspect of my life. I feel worn out at the end of the work day, irritable at my apartment, and at times disatisfied with what I am doing.
But as with so many other instances in my life, I have taken time to reflect on my current issue of stress in the work place, and this is what I have gathered:
Many people are stressed today because they are not working at all. Many are stressed because they have no food. Many are stressed because they cannot read. Many are stressed because they have no money. Many are stressed because they have cancer. Many are stressed because they have been evicted. Many are stressed because they have been hurt. Many are stressed because they are sad. Many are stressed and they don't know why....
And so, what am I trying to conclude? Stress is part of our lives. Whether we want to admit it or not stress is here to stay. What we can do is try to mask it with our friends Johnny Walker or Jack Daniels, or more sinister activities. Or, we can face it head on and manage the stress in healthy, pro active ways. This past weekend I hit a wall, and I feel I am just starting to get back on my feet. I was sad. I was angry. I was frustrated. I was overwhelmed. But in the end, I think it was stress at work, and bringing that stress out of the work place and into my life, that really shook my foundation. So what is my advice, as I learn to manage the stress I am encountering at the workplace? Putting your stress into perspective is an important step. But also taking deep breaths and knowing that it doesn't have to regulate how you feel. Every day, the sun will set and a new day will soon begin. I am learning how to handle this new type of stress as I continue my journey, timidly as it may be, into the real world.
Peace,
rob
I feel naked because I am now completely aware of the reality that is living outside of the college bubble. This encompasses many aspects of my life at this current time, many of which will probably appear on this blog. Tonight though, the theme will be stress, particularly the stress that I feel at work.
Now I must stress that I have indeed held jobs in previous years. Yes, they were part time and yes, some involved the care of children in a pool in the midst of a Maine summer or the care of school children on a basketball court. So as you can gather, the level of stress that I've felt in the work place can be summised as minimal. So here I am, in the world of benefit packages, 401Ks, and vacation time, slowly dipping my toe into the ever more complicated "real world". Lately, stress at my job has become a more prominent aspect of my life. I feel worn out at the end of the work day, irritable at my apartment, and at times disatisfied with what I am doing.
But as with so many other instances in my life, I have taken time to reflect on my current issue of stress in the work place, and this is what I have gathered:
Many people are stressed today because they are not working at all. Many are stressed because they have no food. Many are stressed because they cannot read. Many are stressed because they have no money. Many are stressed because they have cancer. Many are stressed because they have been evicted. Many are stressed because they have been hurt. Many are stressed because they are sad. Many are stressed and they don't know why....
And so, what am I trying to conclude? Stress is part of our lives. Whether we want to admit it or not stress is here to stay. What we can do is try to mask it with our friends Johnny Walker or Jack Daniels, or more sinister activities. Or, we can face it head on and manage the stress in healthy, pro active ways. This past weekend I hit a wall, and I feel I am just starting to get back on my feet. I was sad. I was angry. I was frustrated. I was overwhelmed. But in the end, I think it was stress at work, and bringing that stress out of the work place and into my life, that really shook my foundation. So what is my advice, as I learn to manage the stress I am encountering at the workplace? Putting your stress into perspective is an important step. But also taking deep breaths and knowing that it doesn't have to regulate how you feel. Every day, the sun will set and a new day will soon begin. I am learning how to handle this new type of stress as I continue my journey, timidly as it may be, into the real world.
Peace,
rob
Tuesday, February 2, 2010
Brew ha HA!
I've done it!
I have started a journey of love and patience, of art and science. No, I didn't adopt a puppy from the local shelter. I have brewed my first batch of home-brewed beer!
I have reached into the depths of history and begun the cultivation of an art form that is all to often lost in the midst of college broskies yelling loudly, coeds dancing topless, and both looking awkwardly at one another the morning after.
Nine days ago I spent the better part of one of my cherished days off from work brewing the first batch. Using malt extract, hop pellets, yeast, and the crystal clear essence of Providence tap water, I slowly poured an elixer of bliss into a glass carboy to ferment for a week (fermentation). Eight days later I trasferred this heavenly nectar into a plastic bucket (racking) and then poured it into fifty individual bottles (bottling). So, after bottling yesterday, I'm now going to wait for a week as the yeast continues to do its magic in the bottle (conditioning). For another two to three weeks I'll let the beer sit in a cool, dark place to age and mature in flavor and texture (aging).
After bottling I cracked one open and drank the newly fermented fruits of my labor. I'll be honest and say I was quite surprised- it tasted like beer! It was flat and lacked a refined flavor, but with a few weeks of aging I could begin to sense in that small sample the potential for a decent first brew. I brewed a pale ale with medium hops and body. The name of the beer is still in the works but I have thought of a name of my brewery: Carrington Craft Brewery!!
I hope to continue to share on this humble blog the successes and failures in my brewing venture. This was a great experience and one which I hope to share with my friends and family. Please keep reading and look for another post in the next week!!
Cheers!
-rob
I have started a journey of love and patience, of art and science. No, I didn't adopt a puppy from the local shelter. I have brewed my first batch of home-brewed beer!
I have reached into the depths of history and begun the cultivation of an art form that is all to often lost in the midst of college broskies yelling loudly, coeds dancing topless, and both looking awkwardly at one another the morning after.
Nine days ago I spent the better part of one of my cherished days off from work brewing the first batch. Using malt extract, hop pellets, yeast, and the crystal clear essence of Providence tap water, I slowly poured an elixer of bliss into a glass carboy to ferment for a week (fermentation). Eight days later I trasferred this heavenly nectar into a plastic bucket (racking) and then poured it into fifty individual bottles (bottling). So, after bottling yesterday, I'm now going to wait for a week as the yeast continues to do its magic in the bottle (conditioning). For another two to three weeks I'll let the beer sit in a cool, dark place to age and mature in flavor and texture (aging).
After bottling I cracked one open and drank the newly fermented fruits of my labor. I'll be honest and say I was quite surprised- it tasted like beer! It was flat and lacked a refined flavor, but with a few weeks of aging I could begin to sense in that small sample the potential for a decent first brew. I brewed a pale ale with medium hops and body. The name of the beer is still in the works but I have thought of a name of my brewery: Carrington Craft Brewery!!
I hope to continue to share on this humble blog the successes and failures in my brewing venture. This was a great experience and one which I hope to share with my friends and family. Please keep reading and look for another post in the next week!!
Cheers!
-rob
Sunday, January 24, 2010
Resolve to Involve
Welcome friends!!
I've been living in Providence, Rhode Island for 5 months now, and I have finally decided to blog this new venture.
In August, I moved to Providence to start a new job and move in with the love of my life, Sarah Coghlan (www.sarahmastersbrown.blogspot.com). These past few months have been such an exciting time of my life and I am so glad to be sharing it. Before we get into some current affairs, let's get up to speed.
I met Sarah pretty much 4 years ago when we were both first year students at Saint Michael's College. We immediately became friends. Our friendship became stronger and stronger over the course of our time at Saint Mike's and during the summer before our senior year I did something I had wanted to do for a long, long time: I kissed her. With that kiss, a relationship began and I soon realized just how much I loved this beautiful woman. During our senior year our relationship grew stronger and I found my best friend in the world.
In the Spring Sarah received exciting news- She was accepted into Brown University!!!! I know, I know, she's amazing. I sat in wonderment, imagining my life with a far greater separation from Sarah than the small group of town houses served at the time, and became very sad. I looked up Brown Universty and pinpointed its location like a pizza delivery man on an order route- Providence, Rhode Island!!!
So, with no definite plans and being in the life boat of unemployment with thousands of my fellow college graduates around the country, I began to row towards the Ocean State. And did I row!! I applied to over 25 jobs in three months, hearing back from only two- one in Maine and one in Rhode Island. I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and almost instantly became aware of the right decision.
And here I am!!!
I am currently a residential case manager at a group home for adults with severe and persistent mental illness. Given the nature of my job, much is confidential and won't be shared on this blog. What I will say is I am very happy to be using my degree to help improve other people's lives. It's very hard work, but I am rewarded every day.
This blog will be about my life in Providence. I want to share with you my joys and saddnesses, my frustrations and elations. But most of all, I want to share with you the complexities that go into being 22 years old, recently out of college, and away from home. I made a new years resolution to write a blog, so here I am, resolving to be more involving. I'm ready to share this new part of my life and I hope you're ready to join me!
Peace,
rob
I've been living in Providence, Rhode Island for 5 months now, and I have finally decided to blog this new venture.
In August, I moved to Providence to start a new job and move in with the love of my life, Sarah Coghlan (www.sarahmastersbrown.blogspot.com). These past few months have been such an exciting time of my life and I am so glad to be sharing it. Before we get into some current affairs, let's get up to speed.
I met Sarah pretty much 4 years ago when we were both first year students at Saint Michael's College. We immediately became friends. Our friendship became stronger and stronger over the course of our time at Saint Mike's and during the summer before our senior year I did something I had wanted to do for a long, long time: I kissed her. With that kiss, a relationship began and I soon realized just how much I loved this beautiful woman. During our senior year our relationship grew stronger and I found my best friend in the world.
In the Spring Sarah received exciting news- She was accepted into Brown University!!!! I know, I know, she's amazing. I sat in wonderment, imagining my life with a far greater separation from Sarah than the small group of town houses served at the time, and became very sad. I looked up Brown Universty and pinpointed its location like a pizza delivery man on an order route- Providence, Rhode Island!!!
So, with no definite plans and being in the life boat of unemployment with thousands of my fellow college graduates around the country, I began to row towards the Ocean State. And did I row!! I applied to over 25 jobs in three months, hearing back from only two- one in Maine and one in Rhode Island. I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and almost instantly became aware of the right decision.
And here I am!!!
I am currently a residential case manager at a group home for adults with severe and persistent mental illness. Given the nature of my job, much is confidential and won't be shared on this blog. What I will say is I am very happy to be using my degree to help improve other people's lives. It's very hard work, but I am rewarded every day.
This blog will be about my life in Providence. I want to share with you my joys and saddnesses, my frustrations and elations. But most of all, I want to share with you the complexities that go into being 22 years old, recently out of college, and away from home. I made a new years resolution to write a blog, so here I am, resolving to be more involving. I'm ready to share this new part of my life and I hope you're ready to join me!
Peace,
rob
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