I lie here on my back
Staring in the crack between time and eternity
I see nothing
Actually I do see something
I just don’t know how to describe it
I don’t know what to call it
I don’t know how to respond to it
I see me
But it’s not the me that I know to be me
It’s a different me
Is it a better me?
I don’t know
But it’s definitely a different me.
Is it a happier me?
I don’t know
But it’s definitely a different me
Is it a smarter me?
I don’t know
But it’s definitely a different me
Do I like the me that I see?
I guess I have to wait till the me that I am today meets the me that I see
I hope that the me I see is happier to be me
I hope that the me I see is kinder to me
I hope that the me I see loves to be me
I hope that the me I see is me
Because this me that I be
is not happy to be the current me.
**This is something I wrote a while ago. I thought I should post it today. Perhaps it's because it kind of captures how I'm feeling today.**
Thursday, September 25, 2008
Hurricane Ike Reflections Part I.
I know that my reflections regarding Hurricane Ike will take a number of posts to really get out to the world what I truly felt about the storm and the aftermath of the storm. However, I will try to keep it simple and straight to the point.
First of all, Hurricane Ike was
no joke. The size of that bad boy was amazing. I think that the meteorologist reported that Ike was about 600 miles wide. Can you believe that?
Well, Ike headed straight to Galveston/Houston, just like the weather scientists were predicting. Folks were praying all over the city that the hurricane would dissipateor turn and make a victim out of another city. But I didn't pray that prayer. How can you pray a storm away from you and to someone else? That's wack, heartless, and selfish. So, my prayer was that, if the storm did indeed select Houston/Galveston as its target that we would be prepared for its entry to the third coast.
Once it was becoming more and more clear that Ike wanted to make its mark in the Houston/Galveston area, hundreds of thousands of Houston/Galveston residents made a mad dash to the stores to get water, ice, and what hurricane exposed folks call "hurricane food." What is hurricane food, you might ask? Nonperishable food items, such as canned meat, crackers, peanut butter and jelly, cookies, cereal bars, and chips...
I want you to know that days before the storm, people were packing up on food that I know they wouldn't normally take a second look at in the grocery store. I'm sure that the canned spam, sardine, tuna, and salmon industry are excited when a hurricane threatens the vulnerable coasts of America.
Perhaps when the folks in Houston were praying for the storm to hit another town, the canned meat industry was praying that the storm would hit Houston/Galveston. That’s the jackpot for the canned meat industry. Approximately six million people wanting to buy canned meat... I’m sure to the canned meat industry holds a pep rally, cheering and boosting the hurricane to hit in Houston/Galveston, rather than hitting some small towns that folks had never heard of before the approaching hurricane was threatening to terrorize their handful of citizens.
Well, let me tell you that I hate buying hurricane food items. Sometimes…Well, most of the times, it feels like a waste. The meteorologists start warning folks that the hurricane can hit a certain place, never having any really certainty on what the storm will do. So, people, like my mother, insist on not being unprepared for the pending arrival of a storm that can possibly come your way and punish the unprepared. So, folks go out and spend tons of money, purchasing items that seem to go to waste when the storm actually goes somewhere else.
So, as usual, I wasn’t too excited about going to the store. But my mother, being the sistah that she is, insisted upon it. And being the daughter that I am, I did what mama said to do. I grabbed my last few dollars, went to the store and bought all the canned meat, crackers, water, chips, and cookies that I could get my hands on. And when that storm looked like it was really going to come to H-town and spank us, I ran back to the store and bought candles, batteries, fruit, bread, and more ice and water. Hell, I was like Mama; I didn’t want to be unprepared either.
I made sure that I purchased enough food, water, ice, and other supplies to last us a couple of days, just in case the storm was bad as they were saying it was going to be. I figured that one of two things could possibly happen. A. That it would flood and the streets would be impassible. Or B. The lights would be out for a couple of days. So, I packed up the house with food that I figured that all of us, a family of eight, could eat, without being hungry and/or sick of.
Wasn’t I in for a rude awakening?
**To be continued...**
First of all, Hurricane Ike was
no joke. The size of that bad boy was amazing. I think that the meteorologist reported that Ike was about 600 miles wide. Can you believe that?
Well, Ike headed straight to Galveston/Houston, just like the weather scientists were predicting. Folks were praying all over the city that the hurricane would dissipateor turn and make a victim out of another city. But I didn't pray that prayer. How can you pray a storm away from you and to someone else? That's wack, heartless, and selfish. So, my prayer was that, if the storm did indeed select Houston/Galveston as its target that we would be prepared for its entry to the third coast.
Once it was becoming more and more clear that Ike wanted to make its mark in the Houston/Galveston area, hundreds of thousands of Houston/Galveston residents made a mad dash to the stores to get water, ice, and what hurricane exposed folks call "hurricane food." What is hurricane food, you might ask? Nonperishable food items, such as canned meat, crackers, peanut butter and jelly, cookies, cereal bars, and chips...
I want you to know that days before the storm, people were packing up on food that I know they wouldn't normally take a second look at in the grocery store. I'm sure that the canned spam, sardine, tuna, and salmon industry are excited when a hurricane threatens the vulnerable coasts of America.
Perhaps when the folks in Houston were praying for the storm to hit another town, the canned meat industry was praying that the storm would hit Houston/Galveston. That’s the jackpot for the canned meat industry. Approximately six million people wanting to buy canned meat... I’m sure to the canned meat industry holds a pep rally, cheering and boosting the hurricane to hit in Houston/Galveston, rather than hitting some small towns that folks had never heard of before the approaching hurricane was threatening to terrorize their handful of citizens.
Well, let me tell you that I hate buying hurricane food items. Sometimes…Well, most of the times, it feels like a waste. The meteorologists start warning folks that the hurricane can hit a certain place, never having any really certainty on what the storm will do. So, people, like my mother, insist on not being unprepared for the pending arrival of a storm that can possibly come your way and punish the unprepared. So, folks go out and spend tons of money, purchasing items that seem to go to waste when the storm actually goes somewhere else.
So, as usual, I wasn’t too excited about going to the store. But my mother, being the sistah that she is, insisted upon it. And being the daughter that I am, I did what mama said to do. I grabbed my last few dollars, went to the store and bought all the canned meat, crackers, water, chips, and cookies that I could get my hands on. And when that storm looked like it was really going to come to H-town and spank us, I ran back to the store and bought candles, batteries, fruit, bread, and more ice and water. Hell, I was like Mama; I didn’t want to be unprepared either.
I made sure that I purchased enough food, water, ice, and other supplies to last us a couple of days, just in case the storm was bad as they were saying it was going to be. I figured that one of two things could possibly happen. A. That it would flood and the streets would be impassible. Or B. The lights would be out for a couple of days. So, I packed up the house with food that I figured that all of us, a family of eight, could eat, without being hungry and/or sick of.
Wasn’t I in for a rude awakening?
**To be continued...**
Wednesday, September 24, 2008
I'm back, and I'm okay.
This is just a quick little note to let all of my readers know that Ms. Braden is alive and well. Hurricane Ike packed a powerful punch. But thankfully, the only thing that Hurricane Ike knocked out of mine was a few slacks in the fence and the access to electrical power.
Yes, I was one of the millions that reside in the Houston/Galveston/Beaumont area that had the most unfortunate, uncomfortable, annoying experience of living without electrical services. Of course, electrical power is a convenience and a downright modern day luxury. But trust and believe that electricity is a must if you plan to live a satisfying, productive, and functioning life in today's society. **Later today, I will blog about how this electrical outage had a direct impact on me.**
Plus, not having any lights is a public health crisis. Thousands, all over this area, including my mother, rely on electricity to:
* Keep their refrigerators cool, just so that their medication can stay a certain temperture.
* Keep their bodies cool, just to withstand their stress of being too hot so that they can stay well.
* Keep breathing machines working, just to keep the flow of oxygen in their bodies.
* Keep dyalysis machines going, just to keep the blood in their bodies clean of deadly toxens.
So, for all of those that act like residents of the Houston/Galveston/Beaumont area, which is basically all of Southeast Texas, were being crybabies because of not having lights, get over yourself. For many, electricity is the lifeline for life itself.
I will add to this post when I return back to my house. I'm headed to my job right now. But trust me, I will be back, and my fingers will be typing. I have plenty to say.
But before I sign off, allow me to declare that I am truly thankful that I did not suffer any loss of life or loss of personal property. God is fabulous!
But for all of those who did lose a loved one, their homes, or transportation in this awful storm, my heart and my prayers are extended your way. God bless you.
And for the hundreds of thousands that are still without lights, my prayers are also with you. We went eleven days without lights. I'm so glad that I didn't have to wake up to a twelth day. I'm truly sad that anyone has to continue to wake up to not having any power in the homes that they live in, especially if you paid your hard earned money to pay the thieves we all know as the "light company."
Again, I'm be back later this evening. Until then, be blessed and overwhelmed with insight, motivation, and peace.
Back with power,
Angela
Yes, I was one of the millions that reside in the Houston/Galveston/Beaumont area that had the most unfortunate, uncomfortable, annoying experience of living without electrical services. Of course, electrical power is a convenience and a downright modern day luxury. But trust and believe that electricity is a must if you plan to live a satisfying, productive, and functioning life in today's society. **Later today, I will blog about how this electrical outage had a direct impact on me.**
Plus, not having any lights is a public health crisis. Thousands, all over this area, including my mother, rely on electricity to:
* Keep their refrigerators cool, just so that their medication can stay a certain temperture.
* Keep their bodies cool, just to withstand their stress of being too hot so that they can stay well.
* Keep breathing machines working, just to keep the flow of oxygen in their bodies.
* Keep dyalysis machines going, just to keep the blood in their bodies clean of deadly toxens.
So, for all of those that act like residents of the Houston/Galveston/Beaumont area, which is basically all of Southeast Texas, were being crybabies because of not having lights, get over yourself. For many, electricity is the lifeline for life itself.
I will add to this post when I return back to my house. I'm headed to my job right now. But trust me, I will be back, and my fingers will be typing. I have plenty to say.
But before I sign off, allow me to declare that I am truly thankful that I did not suffer any loss of life or loss of personal property. God is fabulous!
But for all of those who did lose a loved one, their homes, or transportation in this awful storm, my heart and my prayers are extended your way. God bless you.
And for the hundreds of thousands that are still without lights, my prayers are also with you. We went eleven days without lights. I'm so glad that I didn't have to wake up to a twelth day. I'm truly sad that anyone has to continue to wake up to not having any power in the homes that they live in, especially if you paid your hard earned money to pay the thieves we all know as the "light company."
Again, I'm be back later this evening. Until then, be blessed and overwhelmed with insight, motivation, and peace.
Back with power,
Angela
Tuesday, September 09, 2008
A Letter to Gov. Sarah Palin
Dear Sarah:
There is no doubt about it; your speech last Thursday at the GOP convention in Minneapolis definitely had an indelible mark on my psyche. I haven’t been able to get it out of my mind. Well, then again, there are some parts I’ve been able to get out of my mind.
For instance, the parts of your speech that you bragged about cutting spending in Alaska by getting rid of the personal chef and driver… Forgotten about. It wasn’t significant enough to give it much of my attention. Perhaps a great accomplishment for you and the state of Alaska… But to me, I found that particular achievement to be miniscule at best.
Secondly, the many parts of your speech, where you attacked Senator Obama’s inexperience… I didn’t like it. But you did what I expected you to do. So, I haven’t given it much thought since the speech. However, it did confirm some things about you and your character that I was suspecting before you actually gave your speech. What did it confirm? That no matter how Christian you say you are, you are willing to lie and mislead to get what you want.
And finally, the parts of your speech, where you praised your running mate for being a “maverick” and a “POW”, were expected. You’re supposed to prop the one up that you are running under. Good job. Too bad you couldn’t tell us anything else about the man that qualifies him to be President of the United States. Perhaps you will in your next speeches on the stump. Oh, I forgot. You’re traveling and giving the exact same speech that you gave at the GOP convention. Darn it!
So, what was it about your speech that has stuck with me all these days?
For starters, I was really ticked off that you and your handlers have openly objected to the media’s focus on your daughter’s pregnancy. But then you turn around and offer up Baby Trig to the media and anyone who wishes to politicize his young life. That sounds like a double-standard to me.
And what is that double standard about? You object to your oldest daughter, Bristol, being in the public eye. But Trig, your disabled child, is okay for public consumption?
Sounds to me like that “special love” that you have is more for Bristol than Trig. Or perhaps the “special love” that you have is for yourself. If having a child of yours in the spotlight is going to hurt your career as a politician, then you try to block it. But if having a child of yours in the spotlight will boost your career as a politician, then you take them up to the mountain and offer him up as a sacrifice.
Well, at least we now know that the “one” thing about you that is consistent is that you, no matter what it takes, will not let anything get in the way of your rise to power and prominence. Thanks for pointing that out to all of us who are still trying to figure you out. (Are you sure that your name is Sarah Palin and not Sarah Bush?)
Moving on… No point in getting stuck on the obvious…
The other part of your speech that upset me was the part, where you addressed the “families of special needs children.”
"And children with special needs inspire a very, very special love. To the families of special-needs children all across this country, I have a message: For years, you sought to make America a more welcoming place for your sons and daughters. I pledge to you that if we are elected, you will have a friend and advocate in the White House." Gov. Sarah Palin (The pit bull with lipstick)
Let me say this before I go any further. Sarah, it is not “special needs children”; it is “children with special needs.” See the difference? Don’t place the disability in front of the person. It’s people first.
Check this article out.
And by the way, many people with disabilities, including myself don’t like the term “special needs”. When you use the phrase “special needs” and “special love” I feel like you are offering me “special pity” for my very “special condition.”
I don’t need your “special love”; I need equal access to job training, employment, housing, transportation services, and information. My needs are indeed different and sometimes greater than others. But special… Take that label and give it to somebody else. I don’t want it.
The last point I want to make about the passage of your speech that struck me and has left me feeling disrespected, ignored, minimized, invisible, forgotten about, disregarded, and demeaned was your words of encouragement to the “families” of special needs children.
That’s so nice that you have children with disabilities on your mind. I guess we have Trig to thank for that. But Sarah, you should know that children grow up. I’m one of those kids that grew up and became an adult with a disability. And even though I have a significant disability, I decide for me. My mother doesn’t. My father does not choose for me. And no one else in my family makes any choices for me.
You should also know that I choose who I’m going to vote for without the guidance of my loving parents. And this woman with “special needs” have decided to vote for Senator Obama.
Here’s a bit of advice for you.
Do not minimize the millions of adults who have a physical and/or mental disability by talking to our families, as if we cannot listen, speak, or decide for ourselves.
Do you realize how disrespectful that is?
I can only hope that as you continue on your very new journey of being a mother of a child with a disability, you develop some cultural competence and some basic understanding about the concerns of not only families of children with disabilities, but also people with disabilities. Then, perhaps you will truly be an advocate.
Respectfully submitted,
Angela Braden
P.S.
Sarah, you should check out these blog entries posted by other people that you struck with that nice little passage from your speech. I'm sure you can learn something from them. I certainly did.
Sarah Palin: Disability Advocate or Rhetorical Cloud?
An Open Letter to Sarah Palin
Is Sarah Palin exploiting her son's disability?
There is no doubt about it; your speech last Thursday at the GOP convention in Minneapolis definitely had an indelible mark on my psyche. I haven’t been able to get it out of my mind. Well, then again, there are some parts I’ve been able to get out of my mind.
For instance, the parts of your speech that you bragged about cutting spending in Alaska by getting rid of the personal chef and driver… Forgotten about. It wasn’t significant enough to give it much of my attention. Perhaps a great accomplishment for you and the state of Alaska… But to me, I found that particular achievement to be miniscule at best.
Secondly, the many parts of your speech, where you attacked Senator Obama’s inexperience… I didn’t like it. But you did what I expected you to do. So, I haven’t given it much thought since the speech. However, it did confirm some things about you and your character that I was suspecting before you actually gave your speech. What did it confirm? That no matter how Christian you say you are, you are willing to lie and mislead to get what you want.
And finally, the parts of your speech, where you praised your running mate for being a “maverick” and a “POW”, were expected. You’re supposed to prop the one up that you are running under. Good job. Too bad you couldn’t tell us anything else about the man that qualifies him to be President of the United States. Perhaps you will in your next speeches on the stump. Oh, I forgot. You’re traveling and giving the exact same speech that you gave at the GOP convention. Darn it!
So, what was it about your speech that has stuck with me all these days?
For starters, I was really ticked off that you and your handlers have openly objected to the media’s focus on your daughter’s pregnancy. But then you turn around and offer up Baby Trig to the media and anyone who wishes to politicize his young life. That sounds like a double-standard to me.
And what is that double standard about? You object to your oldest daughter, Bristol, being in the public eye. But Trig, your disabled child, is okay for public consumption?
Sounds to me like that “special love” that you have is more for Bristol than Trig. Or perhaps the “special love” that you have is for yourself. If having a child of yours in the spotlight is going to hurt your career as a politician, then you try to block it. But if having a child of yours in the spotlight will boost your career as a politician, then you take them up to the mountain and offer him up as a sacrifice.
Well, at least we now know that the “one” thing about you that is consistent is that you, no matter what it takes, will not let anything get in the way of your rise to power and prominence. Thanks for pointing that out to all of us who are still trying to figure you out. (Are you sure that your name is Sarah Palin and not Sarah Bush?)
Moving on… No point in getting stuck on the obvious…
The other part of your speech that upset me was the part, where you addressed the “families of special needs children.”
"And children with special needs inspire a very, very special love. To the families of special-needs children all across this country, I have a message: For years, you sought to make America a more welcoming place for your sons and daughters. I pledge to you that if we are elected, you will have a friend and advocate in the White House." Gov. Sarah Palin (The pit bull with lipstick)
Let me say this before I go any further. Sarah, it is not “special needs children”; it is “children with special needs.” See the difference? Don’t place the disability in front of the person. It’s people first.
Check this article out.
And by the way, many people with disabilities, including myself don’t like the term “special needs”. When you use the phrase “special needs” and “special love” I feel like you are offering me “special pity” for my very “special condition.”
I don’t need your “special love”; I need equal access to job training, employment, housing, transportation services, and information. My needs are indeed different and sometimes greater than others. But special… Take that label and give it to somebody else. I don’t want it.
The last point I want to make about the passage of your speech that struck me and has left me feeling disrespected, ignored, minimized, invisible, forgotten about, disregarded, and demeaned was your words of encouragement to the “families” of special needs children.
That’s so nice that you have children with disabilities on your mind. I guess we have Trig to thank for that. But Sarah, you should know that children grow up. I’m one of those kids that grew up and became an adult with a disability. And even though I have a significant disability, I decide for me. My mother doesn’t. My father does not choose for me. And no one else in my family makes any choices for me.
You should also know that I choose who I’m going to vote for without the guidance of my loving parents. And this woman with “special needs” have decided to vote for Senator Obama.
Here’s a bit of advice for you.
Do not minimize the millions of adults who have a physical and/or mental disability by talking to our families, as if we cannot listen, speak, or decide for ourselves.
Do you realize how disrespectful that is?
I can only hope that as you continue on your very new journey of being a mother of a child with a disability, you develop some cultural competence and some basic understanding about the concerns of not only families of children with disabilities, but also people with disabilities. Then, perhaps you will truly be an advocate.
Respectfully submitted,
Angela Braden
P.S.
Sarah, you should check out these blog entries posted by other people that you struck with that nice little passage from your speech. I'm sure you can learn something from them. I certainly did.
Sarah Palin: Disability Advocate or Rhetorical Cloud?
An Open Letter to Sarah Palin
Is Sarah Palin exploiting her son's disability?
Friday, September 05, 2008
A Voice in the Disability Community Speaks Out Against Sarah Palin’s Speech
Apparently, I wasn’t the only person with a disability/family member of a person with a disability that was offended by a certain passage in Sarah Palin’s speech.
Check
this out. It’s a strong, loud voice, letting the world know how Sarah Palin’s attempt to reach out to the disabled was deemed a failure and shallow to some. (That includes me.)
Check
this out. It’s a strong, loud voice, letting the world know how Sarah Palin’s attempt to reach out to the disabled was deemed a failure and shallow to some. (That includes me.)
Hey Sara: Don't disrespect the community organizer.
As for Sarah Palin bad mouthing and/or minimizing the contributions of community organizers, I am personally offended.
Doesn’t this “pit bull with lipstick on her teeth” know that it was community organizers that gathered in Seneca Falls in 1848 to fight for the rights of women in this country?
Doesn’t this proud American know it was community organizers that helped to ensure the passing of the 14th Amendment in 1868, which granted Blacks, who resided in America, citizenship and the right to vote? (Meeting certain criteria, of course.)
Doesn’t this woman, the first woman to be on a Republican presidential ticket, know that it was community organizers who fought tirelessly to ensure that the 19th Amendment was passed in 1920, which granted women their right to vote?
Doesn’t the mother of a special needs child, as she put it, know that it was community organizers that fought/still fight for the rights and protections of children and adults with disabilities?
I guess not.
Doesn’t this “pit bull with lipstick on her teeth” know that it was community organizers that gathered in Seneca Falls in 1848 to fight for the rights of women in this country?
Doesn’t this proud American know it was community organizers that helped to ensure the passing of the 14th Amendment in 1868, which granted Blacks, who resided in America, citizenship and the right to vote? (Meeting certain criteria, of course.)
Doesn’t this woman, the first woman to be on a Republican presidential ticket, know that it was community organizers who fought tirelessly to ensure that the 19th Amendment was passed in 1920, which granted women their right to vote?
Doesn’t the mother of a special needs child, as she put it, know that it was community organizers that fought/still fight for the rights and protections of children and adults with disabilities?
I guess not.
Thursday, August 28, 2008
Family Photo Albums
When I was a kid, I loved looking through our family photo albums. I loved seeing happy faces and seeing the definite maturity of certain family members. I especially loved seeing pictures of myself as a smaller child.
That's one of the things I miss so much since I lost my sight. I miss not being able to sit down in the middle of the floor with a few photo albums, looking at the visual history of me and my folks. I also miss filling new photo albums with newly taken pictures.
In the last few days, my folks have been showing my darlin', Jasmine, pictures of the family. Jasmine has gotten a big kick out of seeing all of her aunts as kids, and especially her mother as a child. Likewise, she has been thrilled to see baby photos of herself, her brother, Joseph, and her cousin/best friend, Gabby.
Listening to them look through the photo albums has made me remember why I loved pictures so much in the past. I wish I could sit down and look through the pictures with them. But I can't. And for a moment, I felt a little sad.
What's so interesting is that now, I hate taking pictures. But that's only because I worry about how I look in those pictures. That's another blog post entirely.
That's one of the things I miss so much since I lost my sight. I miss not being able to sit down in the middle of the floor with a few photo albums, looking at the visual history of me and my folks. I also miss filling new photo albums with newly taken pictures.
In the last few days, my folks have been showing my darlin', Jasmine, pictures of the family. Jasmine has gotten a big kick out of seeing all of her aunts as kids, and especially her mother as a child. Likewise, she has been thrilled to see baby photos of herself, her brother, Joseph, and her cousin/best friend, Gabby.
Listening to them look through the photo albums has made me remember why I loved pictures so much in the past. I wish I could sit down and look through the pictures with them. But I can't. And for a moment, I felt a little sad.
What's so interesting is that now, I hate taking pictures. But that's only because I worry about how I look in those pictures. That's another blog post entirely.
Saturday, August 23, 2008
Transition Part IV.
**this post is a series of posts. You may want to read the following posts before reading this one. Enjoy and be blessed.**
Part I
Part II
Part III
I felt that God had accomplished what He hoped to accomplish by sending me to my state job. I learned some very valuable lessons about life, my personality and issues, how to interact with others who I have a serious conflict with, and how to trust Him with my very life as we were driving back and forth on those dangerous highways every morning and evening.
I also felt that God had used me in the way He wanted to use me in the lives of my co-workers, clients, business partners, and individuals in the community. People needed to actually see a person with a significant disability smiling, thriving, working, and at peace with life, even if a disability was indeed present and impacting daily life activities.
My time at DARS was coming to a close. But honestly, I didn’t know what I was going to do about getting away from there. I really felt helpless. Helpless because my computer problems were still impacting my ability to do my job, which was causing a great deal of stress overload; and helpless because I felt like I would not be hired any where else with my blind eyes. I felt trapped. And my heart ached immensely because of the invisible bars of fear that caged my optimism and hope for my future.
I called Devia, one of my best friends, and shared with her about all of the angst that I was experiencing. She told me that she would begin to pray that the Lord open another door for me to enter. I told a few others to start praying with me and Devia. Not believing was not an option for me. I had to believe that God would do something. I didn’t quite know how He was going to do it. But feeling hopeless and sad was not the ticket. And prayer was the best way/weapon to fight the fear that was closing in on me.
Only a week after the prayers had ascended from our heart to the mind of God, I saw an employment listing for an instructor position at one of the junior colleges right here by my house. I applied for the job right away. To tell you the truth, I even asked the main secretary at my job to scan my transcripts for me so that I could attach them to my application for the job that I was applying for. Bold… Yes I know.
A week after I applied, I got an e-mail from the chair of the department in which I had applied. He wanted to meet with me. I called him, and we had a little discussion over the phone. After a quick little chit chat, he invited me to interview for the position. My heart celebrated with gladness and relief before I could even tell the man goodbye. But as soon as I hung up the phone, my heart got flooded with fear all over again.
**Stay tuned for the final entries. I anticipate that this will take only two more posts.**
Part I
Part II
Part III
I felt that God had accomplished what He hoped to accomplish by sending me to my state job. I learned some very valuable lessons about life, my personality and issues, how to interact with others who I have a serious conflict with, and how to trust Him with my very life as we were driving back and forth on those dangerous highways every morning and evening.
I also felt that God had used me in the way He wanted to use me in the lives of my co-workers, clients, business partners, and individuals in the community. People needed to actually see a person with a significant disability smiling, thriving, working, and at peace with life, even if a disability was indeed present and impacting daily life activities.
My time at DARS was coming to a close. But honestly, I didn’t know what I was going to do about getting away from there. I really felt helpless. Helpless because my computer problems were still impacting my ability to do my job, which was causing a great deal of stress overload; and helpless because I felt like I would not be hired any where else with my blind eyes. I felt trapped. And my heart ached immensely because of the invisible bars of fear that caged my optimism and hope for my future.
I called Devia, one of my best friends, and shared with her about all of the angst that I was experiencing. She told me that she would begin to pray that the Lord open another door for me to enter. I told a few others to start praying with me and Devia. Not believing was not an option for me. I had to believe that God would do something. I didn’t quite know how He was going to do it. But feeling hopeless and sad was not the ticket. And prayer was the best way/weapon to fight the fear that was closing in on me.
Only a week after the prayers had ascended from our heart to the mind of God, I saw an employment listing for an instructor position at one of the junior colleges right here by my house. I applied for the job right away. To tell you the truth, I even asked the main secretary at my job to scan my transcripts for me so that I could attach them to my application for the job that I was applying for. Bold… Yes I know.
A week after I applied, I got an e-mail from the chair of the department in which I had applied. He wanted to meet with me. I called him, and we had a little discussion over the phone. After a quick little chit chat, he invited me to interview for the position. My heart celebrated with gladness and relief before I could even tell the man goodbye. But as soon as I hung up the phone, my heart got flooded with fear all over again.
**Stay tuned for the final entries. I anticipate that this will take only two more posts.**
Wednesday, August 20, 2008
Naked and Okay
A few days ago, Heather, one of my closest and dearest friends, told me that she visited my blog and checked out some of my posts. Although I was kind of glad that she got a chance to read it, especially since the blog is so close to my heart, I was a little nervous about what she would think of it. I sighed with relief when she told me that she actually liked it. (Heather really should have been a English major in college. She is a critic of words. **wink** So, her approval means a lot.)
In the last two years, most of my readers have been people that I do not know. They come here, read about my life, my experiences, and my perspective on disability related issues; and from time to time they leave a very thoughtful comment in response to my posts. But lately, friends, such as Miko, Randy, and Heather, all folks that I hold close to my heart, have found my blog and have demonstrated that they will continue to read. By the way, Miko and Randy are word critics too.
How do I feel about that? How do I feel about people that I actually have a meaningful relationship visiting my blog?
Actually, I'm cool with it. I'm a pretty open, transparent woman. I don't hide behind masks, and I very seldom cloak my emotions with false expressions. So, pretty much anyone that knows me, knows me. Know what I mean?
And for the most part, those who read my blog, friends, strangers, perhaps an enemy or two, will find the true me, my honest thoughts, and my unveiled emotions. I feel that's the best that I can offer to anyone. Honesty, openness, and truth... It doesn't get better than that.
So often, people misrepresent themselves, hide behind colorfully constructed masks, and deliberately deceive others only because they for whatever reason have decided that revealing the "real" them may unleash results that they are not ready to deal with. But I've decided to have courage, to stand up, and to not apologize for who I am.
I am Angie. And I'm not hiding, shrinking, or apologizing for who I am. I am who I am. And guess what... That's okay.
But don't get it twisted though... Learning to be yourself and being okay with it is not a free pass to be a under-achieving you, a mediocre you, a rude you, a jacked up you. Because we all need/must continue to work on our development into the women and men that we were designed to be.
What I'm saying is that we, all of us, need to stop frontin', fraudin', perpetrating, faking, masking, hiding, covering up, and living in the closet. However, we need to continue to improve, to elevate, to educate, to inform, to positively construct, to develop, to heal, to empower ourselves. It's a must.
Starting this blog was a coming out of sorts. And that's what I do every day when I post a entry here. I'm coming out. Telling everyone more about who I really am. I'm also working on me, each and every time I post an entry.
So, here I am, in all of my naked glory. Enjoy!
In the last two years, most of my readers have been people that I do not know. They come here, read about my life, my experiences, and my perspective on disability related issues; and from time to time they leave a very thoughtful comment in response to my posts. But lately, friends, such as Miko, Randy, and Heather, all folks that I hold close to my heart, have found my blog and have demonstrated that they will continue to read. By the way, Miko and Randy are word critics too.
How do I feel about that? How do I feel about people that I actually have a meaningful relationship visiting my blog?
Actually, I'm cool with it. I'm a pretty open, transparent woman. I don't hide behind masks, and I very seldom cloak my emotions with false expressions. So, pretty much anyone that knows me, knows me. Know what I mean?
And for the most part, those who read my blog, friends, strangers, perhaps an enemy or two, will find the true me, my honest thoughts, and my unveiled emotions. I feel that's the best that I can offer to anyone. Honesty, openness, and truth... It doesn't get better than that.
So often, people misrepresent themselves, hide behind colorfully constructed masks, and deliberately deceive others only because they for whatever reason have decided that revealing the "real" them may unleash results that they are not ready to deal with. But I've decided to have courage, to stand up, and to not apologize for who I am.
I am Angie. And I'm not hiding, shrinking, or apologizing for who I am. I am who I am. And guess what... That's okay.
But don't get it twisted though... Learning to be yourself and being okay with it is not a free pass to be a under-achieving you, a mediocre you, a rude you, a jacked up you. Because we all need/must continue to work on our development into the women and men that we were designed to be.
What I'm saying is that we, all of us, need to stop frontin', fraudin', perpetrating, faking, masking, hiding, covering up, and living in the closet. However, we need to continue to improve, to elevate, to educate, to inform, to positively construct, to develop, to heal, to empower ourselves. It's a must.
Starting this blog was a coming out of sorts. And that's what I do every day when I post a entry here. I'm coming out. Telling everyone more about who I really am. I'm also working on me, each and every time I post an entry.
So, here I am, in all of my naked glory. Enjoy!
Tuesday, August 19, 2008
Transition Part III.
A few things became clear to me during my last few months at my state job:
While I might be good at social service, mainly because of my innate ability to be compassionate, and also because of my learned skill to listen, problem solve, and write narrative reports, I didn’t really like it that much. Now, it’s quite likely that I didn’t like it that much because of the social service/counselor hat that I had to wear at my house. Perhaps if my family wasn’t so out of control, then I wouldn’t be growing tired of working as a helper on my job. But I felt that I was being sandwiched by two groups of people who had some serious issues.
The truth was that I was growing increasingly tired of “being there” for everybody. And my family, no matter how hard I worked to change many of the circumstances, remained the same.
I couldn’t get rid of my folks, although I probably would like to from time to time. But one thing I knew I could walk away from was my job. That was the break that I felt that I needed to make. My family and my clients were draining me. And the computer problems certainly didn’t make matters better. I knew I needed to bounce and bounce soon.
Well, quitting was not an option as long as I didn’t have another job. It’s hard out here for a pimp. So, you know it’s hard out here for a blind chick. Today’s economy is not built to allow someone to be “okay” without making some paper. So, I knew I had to find another job before making that decision to roll out of my stable job. But unfortunately, finding a job was and is not too easy for someone that is blind.
I begin to question myself. I started feeling like I needed to just “put up” with whatever I was going through/feeling, being that my job was a “good job” for someone that was blind. And guess what… I had co-workers and a couple of friends that reminded me from time to time how I needed to just “put up” with all the shortcomings and dissatisfaction that I was experiencing on my job.
One of my co-workers told me that I just needed to be thankful to have a job. She reminded me how many blind people wish they could be in my shoes. I started feeling like an ingrate, completely incapable of identifying and being thankful for a “good” opportunity for my blind A$$. But even still, I knew I wanted more.
Being blind, having limited options was not enough to stop me from wanting, wishing, and fighting for more. I knew deep down on the inside that I deserved more. I knew that no matter what, no matter how blind I was, no matter how blessed I was to have that so called good job, I deserved some personal fulfillment, satisfaction, and peace. I knew that I didn’t have to settle for less, just because I could not see. So, I started planning and working on a plan to depart my place of unhappiness and dissatisfaction.
**More later… I believe that the next two posts will be the end of this series of posts. Boy, this story is much longer than I thought.**
While I might be good at social service, mainly because of my innate ability to be compassionate, and also because of my learned skill to listen, problem solve, and write narrative reports, I didn’t really like it that much. Now, it’s quite likely that I didn’t like it that much because of the social service/counselor hat that I had to wear at my house. Perhaps if my family wasn’t so out of control, then I wouldn’t be growing tired of working as a helper on my job. But I felt that I was being sandwiched by two groups of people who had some serious issues.
The truth was that I was growing increasingly tired of “being there” for everybody. And my family, no matter how hard I worked to change many of the circumstances, remained the same.
I couldn’t get rid of my folks, although I probably would like to from time to time. But one thing I knew I could walk away from was my job. That was the break that I felt that I needed to make. My family and my clients were draining me. And the computer problems certainly didn’t make matters better. I knew I needed to bounce and bounce soon.
Well, quitting was not an option as long as I didn’t have another job. It’s hard out here for a pimp. So, you know it’s hard out here for a blind chick. Today’s economy is not built to allow someone to be “okay” without making some paper. So, I knew I had to find another job before making that decision to roll out of my stable job. But unfortunately, finding a job was and is not too easy for someone that is blind.
I begin to question myself. I started feeling like I needed to just “put up” with whatever I was going through/feeling, being that my job was a “good job” for someone that was blind. And guess what… I had co-workers and a couple of friends that reminded me from time to time how I needed to just “put up” with all the shortcomings and dissatisfaction that I was experiencing on my job.
One of my co-workers told me that I just needed to be thankful to have a job. She reminded me how many blind people wish they could be in my shoes. I started feeling like an ingrate, completely incapable of identifying and being thankful for a “good” opportunity for my blind A$$. But even still, I knew I wanted more.
Being blind, having limited options was not enough to stop me from wanting, wishing, and fighting for more. I knew deep down on the inside that I deserved more. I knew that no matter what, no matter how blind I was, no matter how blessed I was to have that so called good job, I deserved some personal fulfillment, satisfaction, and peace. I knew that I didn’t have to settle for less, just because I could not see. So, I started planning and working on a plan to depart my place of unhappiness and dissatisfaction.
**More later… I believe that the next two posts will be the end of this series of posts. Boy, this story is much longer than I thought.**
Saturday, August 16, 2008
Transition Part II.
My job as a counselor got harder when my already inaccessible data base system became more inaccessible when they upgraded some software on my computer. Let me provide some background real quick…
The program that the agency uses to document client information is not user friendly for individuals who use screen reading software, such as the blind. In fact, the software is so terribly inaccessible; the state is working diligently to create a software that will work for blind employees. Well, my manager didn’t quite know how inaccessible this software was when she hired me. So, here I was starting a job that didn’t seem doable once I actually got through the door.
I was so frustrated. I honestly thought that I was going to have to quit, simply because I really couldn’t fulfill the essential functions of the job. Many of the tasks that a counselor was required to do, I could not do; and it was because the software was not written to ever work with technology for the blind.
I couldn’t understand why the Lord would open a door for me, just to get me on the inside to fail. Because I knew that was not apart of His plan and how God works, I made it my business to push past the obstacles so that I could complete the task that God had put before me. There was a reason why God had walked me through that door. So, I had to do whatever was necessary to fulfill the assignment that was within the walls of my job. I truly believe that God never opens a door without providing you with the provision to be successful on the other side of that door.
So, I got to work, trying to figure out how to make that darn computer program work. For the first couple of months, I bumped around the system, trouble-shooting many of the functions of the software. My manager and I would sit at the computer together, trying many different things, hoping and wishing for a breakthrough. And you know what? Sometimes, we would break different barriers down, and many of the tasks that seemed impossible became possible. With a few extra strokes on my keyboard, many of the actions on the software that the other counselors was able to do with just a click of the mouse, became possible to me. Thank God!
Once we broke the code on many of the software functions, I got moving as fast as I could to learn more about how to effectively serve my clients now that my major computer issues seemed to be resolved. Yeah, I still had some issues with the computer. But overall, it was much better. From time to time, I had to go get some eyeballs to look at something for me. But for the most part, I was able to do my job and do it well.
Thankfully, I had an excellent manager, who trained me to document my cases comprehensively. She also provided me excellent guidance on how to provide quality services to our clients. My confidence increased each day as I would achieve certain milestones on my cases. I was so proud that I was able to touch so many lives. It was truly a blessing.
Yes, the commute was still getting on my nerves. But I felt proud to do my job. I honestly felt like I was helping the people I was working with. I also felt that my presence in the office sent a loud message to the disabled individuals that we were helping prepare for, find, and maintain competitive employment... My presence in the office let the disabled folks know that someone with a disability is definitely capable of becoming employed and being a vital, productive member of society. My presence let many newly disabled folks know that there is indeed life after disability.
“Yes, it may indeed be hard, but you can make it. You can achieve your goals with faith, support from family, friends, community/government resources, and of course, hard work.” That’s the message I tried to send while working at my job. And honestly, I think I achieved that goal.
Well, after being at my job for nearly a year, some of the technology that I requested finally came into the office. But in order for me to use the technology proficiently, the help desk needed to upgrade the software on my computer. Well, when they did, the main software that I used to do my job as a counselor went berserk. It was almost liked the software got flipped upside down. It was terrible!
Every single day, for at least an hour, I was on the phone with the help desk, trying to get my computer running at least at the same level it was before. But to no avail, two months of trouble-shooting could not get it going.
My frustration mounted as my clients became frustrated with my slow pace to provide services. And I don’t blame my clients... Why should they have to suffer, just because my computer was jacked up?
I started feeling like that long drive to my office everyday and all that gas I was putting in my car was for nothing. I was coming to work everyday, only to be frustrated and only to frustrate my clients. The pressure to perform at the same level, but without the same tools, mounted on me, and burn out started rearing its awful head.
I had to make a break. This job that I was good at, but was not designed to do/called to do, became increasingly stressful once I couldn’t do it effectively. I felt that my grace, the provisional patience to do the job and to stay on the job without frowning, had run out. I was officially unhappy.
**Stay tuned. This story will take a while. Honestly, I didn’t think I would ever tell this story hear on my blog. But I feel like I need to tell it. Someone may be helped…**
The program that the agency uses to document client information is not user friendly for individuals who use screen reading software, such as the blind. In fact, the software is so terribly inaccessible; the state is working diligently to create a software that will work for blind employees. Well, my manager didn’t quite know how inaccessible this software was when she hired me. So, here I was starting a job that didn’t seem doable once I actually got through the door.
I was so frustrated. I honestly thought that I was going to have to quit, simply because I really couldn’t fulfill the essential functions of the job. Many of the tasks that a counselor was required to do, I could not do; and it was because the software was not written to ever work with technology for the blind.
I couldn’t understand why the Lord would open a door for me, just to get me on the inside to fail. Because I knew that was not apart of His plan and how God works, I made it my business to push past the obstacles so that I could complete the task that God had put before me. There was a reason why God had walked me through that door. So, I had to do whatever was necessary to fulfill the assignment that was within the walls of my job. I truly believe that God never opens a door without providing you with the provision to be successful on the other side of that door.
So, I got to work, trying to figure out how to make that darn computer program work. For the first couple of months, I bumped around the system, trouble-shooting many of the functions of the software. My manager and I would sit at the computer together, trying many different things, hoping and wishing for a breakthrough. And you know what? Sometimes, we would break different barriers down, and many of the tasks that seemed impossible became possible. With a few extra strokes on my keyboard, many of the actions on the software that the other counselors was able to do with just a click of the mouse, became possible to me. Thank God!
Once we broke the code on many of the software functions, I got moving as fast as I could to learn more about how to effectively serve my clients now that my major computer issues seemed to be resolved. Yeah, I still had some issues with the computer. But overall, it was much better. From time to time, I had to go get some eyeballs to look at something for me. But for the most part, I was able to do my job and do it well.
Thankfully, I had an excellent manager, who trained me to document my cases comprehensively. She also provided me excellent guidance on how to provide quality services to our clients. My confidence increased each day as I would achieve certain milestones on my cases. I was so proud that I was able to touch so many lives. It was truly a blessing.
Yes, the commute was still getting on my nerves. But I felt proud to do my job. I honestly felt like I was helping the people I was working with. I also felt that my presence in the office sent a loud message to the disabled individuals that we were helping prepare for, find, and maintain competitive employment... My presence in the office let the disabled folks know that someone with a disability is definitely capable of becoming employed and being a vital, productive member of society. My presence let many newly disabled folks know that there is indeed life after disability.
“Yes, it may indeed be hard, but you can make it. You can achieve your goals with faith, support from family, friends, community/government resources, and of course, hard work.” That’s the message I tried to send while working at my job. And honestly, I think I achieved that goal.
Well, after being at my job for nearly a year, some of the technology that I requested finally came into the office. But in order for me to use the technology proficiently, the help desk needed to upgrade the software on my computer. Well, when they did, the main software that I used to do my job as a counselor went berserk. It was almost liked the software got flipped upside down. It was terrible!
Every single day, for at least an hour, I was on the phone with the help desk, trying to get my computer running at least at the same level it was before. But to no avail, two months of trouble-shooting could not get it going.
My frustration mounted as my clients became frustrated with my slow pace to provide services. And I don’t blame my clients... Why should they have to suffer, just because my computer was jacked up?
I started feeling like that long drive to my office everyday and all that gas I was putting in my car was for nothing. I was coming to work everyday, only to be frustrated and only to frustrate my clients. The pressure to perform at the same level, but without the same tools, mounted on me, and burn out started rearing its awful head.
I had to make a break. This job that I was good at, but was not designed to do/called to do, became increasingly stressful once I couldn’t do it effectively. I felt that my grace, the provisional patience to do the job and to stay on the job without frowning, had run out. I was officially unhappy.
**Stay tuned. This story will take a while. Honestly, I didn’t think I would ever tell this story hear on my blog. But I feel like I need to tell it. Someone may be helped…**
Friday, August 15, 2008
Transition Part I.
Earlier this year, in the spring months, I entered into a place of repositioning. My already challenged patience for my job was increasingly waning, and each day was a struggle for me to focus, to maintain productivity, and to even pretend like I was happy at all. I was tired of the hour-long commute from my house to the job and then another hour to get back home after an annoying day at work. I was tired of the $200 a week fuel bill. I was growing more and more frustrated with some of the clients on my case load. And although I am quite grateful for my sister, Frances, and her willingness to get up and take me to and from work each day, I was quite tired of being forced to endure her preference for certain genres of music and her sometimes dangerous driving habits.
I didn’t know how I was going to get away from that job, but I knew I had to do something to break away. I felt like I was turning into a miserable person, resenting the fact that I had to get up and go to a job that I was perhaps good at, but nevertheless hated. I didn’t want to be like the millions of Americans, who found that it was safe, necessary, and acceptable to settle for less, to settle for a job/a situation/a relationship that was not really good for them, only because they couldn’t see another option.
Yes, the situation may indeed have its benefits. But if the relationship/job/situation is chipping away at your very core and driving you further away from what it is you know you were designed to experience in this life, then I would venture out to say the seemingly beneficial value of the situation is quite less than the damage that staying in that situation can do to your soul. That’s why you meat people, who souls stench from the decay that began long ago, when they decided to stay in a situation that was deadly to their personal growth, development, and overall satisfaction.
One thing I knew for sure was that I was good at my job. But I also knew that my job was not good for me. I was becoming more and more numb to my clients, and starting to develop an attitude of “whatever” when it came to trying to reach my goals. The stress and anxiety had started eating away at me, and I was becoming something that I never wanted to be, an annoyed social service worker.
Now grant it, part of the reason why I was so incredibly tired of my job was because my job did not fully appreciate me. They refused to provide me with the tools that I needed to effectively do my job. So, needless to say, doing my job was stressful. I refused to slack on the job, and to not achieve the very best was not even an option. So, that meant I had to bust my butt to get the job done. And that’s what I did. I worked hard to make sure that my worked reflected my core values and to provide quality services to my clients, no matter how hard or stressful it was to do so.
But no doubt, I developed some angst in my heart for my employer (not my manager) for taking advantage of the fact that I was the kind of person that would work hard to meet the goal, even if I didn’t have the tools to do it. I felt that my employer felt that accommodations were just something that I felt like I “wanted” rather than what I needed. I really felt like they, whoever they are, felt that if I was doing the job without the reasonable accommodation, then the so called reasonable accommodation must’ve not been necessary.
This square dance went on for over a year. And finally, I got tired of the dance. It was time for me to switch partners. But honestly, I wasn’t sure if there was another employer that wanted to dance with a blind chick. So, my heart grew heavy, and I continued dancing with my then partner, smiling, but wishing I could get away from them as quickly as possible.
**Stay tuned for the continuation of this.**
I didn’t know how I was going to get away from that job, but I knew I had to do something to break away. I felt like I was turning into a miserable person, resenting the fact that I had to get up and go to a job that I was perhaps good at, but nevertheless hated. I didn’t want to be like the millions of Americans, who found that it was safe, necessary, and acceptable to settle for less, to settle for a job/a situation/a relationship that was not really good for them, only because they couldn’t see another option.
Yes, the situation may indeed have its benefits. But if the relationship/job/situation is chipping away at your very core and driving you further away from what it is you know you were designed to experience in this life, then I would venture out to say the seemingly beneficial value of the situation is quite less than the damage that staying in that situation can do to your soul. That’s why you meat people, who souls stench from the decay that began long ago, when they decided to stay in a situation that was deadly to their personal growth, development, and overall satisfaction.
One thing I knew for sure was that I was good at my job. But I also knew that my job was not good for me. I was becoming more and more numb to my clients, and starting to develop an attitude of “whatever” when it came to trying to reach my goals. The stress and anxiety had started eating away at me, and I was becoming something that I never wanted to be, an annoyed social service worker.
Now grant it, part of the reason why I was so incredibly tired of my job was because my job did not fully appreciate me. They refused to provide me with the tools that I needed to effectively do my job. So, needless to say, doing my job was stressful. I refused to slack on the job, and to not achieve the very best was not even an option. So, that meant I had to bust my butt to get the job done. And that’s what I did. I worked hard to make sure that my worked reflected my core values and to provide quality services to my clients, no matter how hard or stressful it was to do so.
But no doubt, I developed some angst in my heart for my employer (not my manager) for taking advantage of the fact that I was the kind of person that would work hard to meet the goal, even if I didn’t have the tools to do it. I felt that my employer felt that accommodations were just something that I felt like I “wanted” rather than what I needed. I really felt like they, whoever they are, felt that if I was doing the job without the reasonable accommodation, then the so called reasonable accommodation must’ve not been necessary.
This square dance went on for over a year. And finally, I got tired of the dance. It was time for me to switch partners. But honestly, I wasn’t sure if there was another employer that wanted to dance with a blind chick. So, my heart grew heavy, and I continued dancing with my then partner, smiling, but wishing I could get away from them as quickly as possible.
**Stay tuned for the continuation of this.**
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