So I learned a list of really valuable things in the class I took this
week. One of them was about the importance of being valued. And how
everything we get upset about angry about comes back to feeling not
valued. Just think of every single thing you get upset at. I don’t mean
things like a sick child or bad health, but things that tick you off and
get you from a positive place to a negative one, all day long. The
little (or sometimes not so little things). In the end, they all come
down to feeling not valued.

Well it does for me. So now, I am paying more attention to that and
taking a step back and creating my own self-value when others don’t
respect it. Or changing the way I look at the situation so it doesn’t
make me feel less valued.

I am also remembering it when I treat others. I am trying to be calmer
and to be more appreciative. I am also trying to be specific in my
appreciation, so that it’s not a quickie but a well-thought out,
“I-really-did-notice-this” kind of appreciation.

I promise more from the class, soon, Kim.

Something that I often run into in my work is people telling me how amazing it is that I know how to do it. “I can’t believe you did this! You’re so bright!” I hear such compliments over and over again. Which, while being very nice, aren’t really warranted 100%.

We all have strengths and weaknesses. More to my point, we each have our unique set of knowledge. Things we’ve learned at some point or another, some through formal means and some practically. To the people who know them, the things they know often seem easy. Especially if it’s something they’ve done frequently. For example, I’ve been doing database design for almost ten years now, and such there are basic principles of design that I know like the back of my hand. Same goes for using a computer or writing UNIX shell scripts. These are things that others might value and feel are difficult but most of the time they are not to me.

On the other hand, I can’t cook to save my life. I wish I were more creative and artistically talented. I wish I knew how to do real advanced math or physics. I can’t ride a bike. I am still struggling with driving. To someone who can ride a bike, that skill is no biggie. Just cause you can do it and have been able to do it since you were six, doesn’t make it easy. It just makes it something you know.



If we all realized that the world comes in two categories: stuff we know and stuff we don’t know, we could all relax and know that things can be moved from one category into the other. Some items may take longer to transfer. For example, I imagine it would take me much longer to learn the details of string theory than it might to learn how to cook peas. What matters isn’t how long it takes me, it is the fact that almost any item can be moved from the “i don’t know” column to the “i know” column with the right amount of time, resources, and attitude.

In my opinion, attitude is the biggest factor. If you have the right attitude, you can create the time and find the resources. Every bit of improvement starts with believing in yourself and your ability to accomplish your task. That’s why I cringe each time someone says “Oh, I could never do that.”

You most definitely could, dammit!

I was reading a few fray stories and this one made me think of the time I had had enough:

***

I took the job because I believed in its message.

I quit my high-paying part-time management job to become a 5th grade teacher. I spent hours working on the application, stayed up nights to prepare for the interview. I had found my life’s purpose; I wanted to Teach For America. I didn’t listen to anyone’s words of caution. My mom thought I was too educated to teach elementary school, which offended me then and offends me now. My friends thought I was insane to leave the cushy, ladder-climbing job where I had put in 120-hour weeks to achieve my current success. I didn’t listen to anyone.

My enthusiasm increased all through the summer. Despite the fact that I had to spend five weeks in a dormitory, away from my husband immediately after we came back from our honeymoon. Despite the fact that we woke up at 6am and went to bed at 2am. Despite the fact that the kids never listened to a word we taught. The first night of the Institute, the summer training program, I called my husband after watching the previous year’s training video. “I don’t understand why everybody in the world doesn’t want to do this,” I said and I believed every word of it.

Things started going wrong before the first week of school ended. My third-grade appointment was switched to fifth-grade two days before we expected students to arrive. My room was changed three times. On the first day of school, the principal came to introduce herself to the students and said, “Ms. Grunberg was scared to teach fifth grade, but I told her she would to fine, right?” The class nodded enthusiastically.

I put my training to use immediately. I made rules. Consequences. I gave an exam on the rules. I was strict. I was mean. I didn’t ask for approval. I prepared ten-page lesson plans. I created my posters. I memorized my student’s names. I made sure my lesson plans covered all the modalities. I spent every waking moment outside the classroom working to make myself a better teacher: grading, planning, calling parents. I was all that a first year teacher was supposed to be. Or so I thought.

read more.

There are days when I get depressed.

I’ve never been a big social activist. To be fully honest, I spent the first eighteen years of my life oblivious to much around me. Years of childhood hazing combined with an ultimate escape land provided by the millions of books made sure that I spent my days unaware of my surroundings. I don’t mean to imply that I didn’t care. As a kid, I tutored other, less fortunate, kids in math, and later on, English. But, even as a teenager, I never got involved in the political or social conversations that many people around me debated over. Just like I didn’t feel at ease with the lipstick-brand-name-jeans-and-ski-in-Switzerland crowd, I didn’t find a home with the people who wanted to save the world. Or at least talk about saving the world.

Back then I knew too little to be disappointed.

During college, I started getting a little more involved with those around me. For the first time in my life, I felt like my surroundings invigorated me. I wanted to suck it all up. After drenching myself in it, I wanted to get others hooked on as well. Thus, I became an Orientation Counselor. I joined the Student Dormitory Counsel and organized part of the on-campus carnival entertainment. I signed up to be a Pre-college counselor. And later, a Resident Assistant. As part of those jobs, I got more involved in community service. I did Habitat for Humanity a few times. I went to a food bank. I became a sexual assault counselor. I moved up to organize school-wide programs like sex week, where we tried to address important issues and raise sexual awareness. I worked for the school newspaper. I taught computer classes. I served on the residence life judicial board. While I wasn’t very involved in the city or outside community, I was mad about my school. I knew a lot about it and worked hard to make parts of it better.

At that point I was too intoxicated with the possibilities to get distraught.

Upon graduation, I moved to New York City. I signed on with an investment bank and got to work. In my first year, I became involved with two volunteer programs: Everybody Wins, whose goal was to instill the love of reading in elementary school children and Young Women’s Leadership Club, whose goal was to teach high school girls the skills necessary to get accepted to college or to find a job. The work took about six to eight hours a month away from my jam-packed schedule. I became a member of the New York Public Library so I could checkout children’s books that my third grader and I read during our lunch hours. My first year, I convinced a bunch of my friends to volunteer for New York Cares Day. By then I had also joined Jake in returning back to City Year for the Serve-a-thon in Boston, each year. My firm started a community service program where they gave each employee a day off, paid, to do community service. I went back to Habitat. I did Junior Achievement. I volunteered at pet shelter dog shows. I still didn’t think I was affecting my environment as much as I could have, but I felt good about giving some of the little time that I had.

I think the sorrow might have started when I saw how my third grader couldn’t read.

A year and a half ago, I decided I wanted to reduce my hours considerably so I could spend some time volunteering at the New York Society for the Deaf. I’d been taking classes at NYSD and wanted an excuse to improve my sign language. I asked around and found out that almost all the opportunities were during the day, so after a lot of searching, I changed my work to a 3-days-a-week arrangement and started spending one of my other days at NYSD. I didn’t care about what I did, I just wanted to be of help. A few months after that, I started spending part of my other day at Housing Works used bookstore, where I help run the register and do other necessary jobs. I’d say I’m still not involved with my environment as much as I want to be. My life is still pretty much the same, except for the wonderful people who’ve added color and insight into it. The people I’ve met in my multiple volunteer opportunities.

They’re what make me worry.

A few months ago, I decided the few days weren’t enough. I wanted to make more of an impact. I wanted to educate myself. I wanted to learn about what makes parts of our society fail. I wanted to make it a better place. I talked to a lot of people. Many told me I was naive. A whole bunch told me that I could do that with my money. Others told me it was a fruitless endeavor. A few encouraged me to give it a try. I looked around a lot and finally settled on Teach For America. I was inspired by what they stood for and figured I’d be proud to be a member of an organization with its goals. I applied. I got accepted. If all goes well, I will be an elementary school teacher by this September.

Now, I’m reading a lot about education and the plethora of the issues faced by educators today. I’m reading about racial bias and gender bias. I’m reading about poverty and parts of United States that would, should, make some people ashamed to call themselves American. I’m seeing that ignorance is bliss for many people. I’m finding out that a lot of people whine about how bad things are but don’t do much about it. I’m realizing that there’s a lot of work to be done. I’m horrified by the way many children are treated.

And I get depressed.

I see why people tell me I can’t change the world. I know many have tried and failed. I know that it feels like an insurmountable undertaking. I get annoyed at the disorganization of some non-profits until I try to remind myself that most of these people are working practically for free in a job that’s often under-appreciated and definitely under-employed. Tons of people have told me that it’s not my job to fix the world.

But it is.

I live in this society. I reap the benefits of many people’s hard work. I take for granted that someone grows the food I eat, that someone collects the garbage I accumulate, someone drives the subway I ride to work. I make money and live in a well-insulated house with doormen and elevators. I’m surrounded by people who make enough money to afford big houses and expensive vacations. It’s easy to lose perspective in my environment. And that’s exactly what many people do. Yet, if any part of the society decided not to execute its function, my world could crumble. It’s my job to make sure that hardworking people get rewarded. It’s my job to make sure that we can offer excellent education to everyone so our society as a whole can improve.

Most importantly, I plan to bring children into this society. It’s my job to make sure that my kids can grow up in the best society I can provide. I don’t want my children to have to worry about racial or gender discrimination. I want high quality education not to be an option that only the rich can exercise but a necessity and a guarantee to all children. I want my kids to be proud to be a part of their society. I want them to grow up secure of their abilities and opportunities. And I don’t want all that to be tied to my income.

It’s just as much my job to make this world a better place as it is yours. The more I read, the more I see, the more I hear, the more depressed I get. The sadder I get, the angrier I get. The angrier I get, the more determined I get.

My eyes might have been closed before, but they’re wide open now. And it’s never too late.

Previously? Dumb For Life.

“We sometimes ask our students at The American University to list twenty famous women from American history. There are only a few restrictions. They cannot include figures from sports or entertainment. Presidents’ wives are not allowed unless they are clearly famous in their own right. Most students cannot do it. The seeds of ignorance were sown in their earliest years of schooling.” – Failing at Fairness by Myra & David Sadker

My friend Ashlie used to refuse to read novels written by men. She told me that her high school and college education was male-dominated and she had decided that she needed to compensate by reading many of the women authors that get neglected within our schools.

I can’t say she doesn’t have a point.

Today, I can name many fantastic authors, but if I look back upon my formal education, with the possible exception of the Bronte sisters and Jane Austin, I don’t believe we studied any women writers. Female scientists? Marie Curie. That’s the extent of the list I was ever taught. Can’t even think of one female mathematician or physician. Historical figures? Short of presidents’ wives, I got none. Well, there’s Anne Frank, but I’m not sure what category she falls under.

Quite pathetic if you ask me.

I was never explicitly told that just because I am female, I’m not supposed to be good at a certain field. In elementary school, I rocked in math and the teacher never made me feel like that was a bad thing. For middle and high school, I attended an all-girls school so obviously there was no male-female competition there. But I have consistently been interested in the male-dominated fields and I have never felt intimidated by the men around me. So I always thought that maybe I grew up without gender discrimination.

The fact is, gender discrimination is there all the time. I didn’t avoid it. Most people aren’t even aware that they are biased. I, for the most part, haven’t internalized it. ( Though, I did internalize a whole lot of other things.) Just because it didn’t destroy my life, or at least not in the ways I’m aware of, doesn’t mean the bias isn’t out there. Doesn’t mean it isn’t important. And it surely doesn’t mean that it doesn’t affect many others.

Can you name twenty women from American history?

Previously? Good Mate.