Southern girl on airplanes

"The air up there in the clouds is vey pure and fine, bracing and delicious. And why shouldn't it be? - it is the same the angels breathe." - Mark Twain, Roughing It

I adore airplanes. When I want to see a good friend who lives halfway across the country, I can hop on a plane and be there in no time. When I someday feed my desperate need to spend significant amounts of time in the UK, I will most certainly be hoping on a flying machine to accomplish said goal. (Goal being accomplished April 2014. Hold onto your hats.)

Sometimes flights are short and easy. Sometimes they are long and easy. Sometimes they are short and heinous, or long and heinous, especially with babies and sick people. No matter what the circumstances, I would usually rather deal with the screaming baby than drive myself because after about 2 hours in a car I can get pretty testy.

Story time:
Once upon a time, I was traveling to our nation's capital with one of my dearest friends to visit two of my other dearest friends. It was a blessed occasion of being reunited. In order to get to DC from Arkansas, we chose to fly due to time constraints, and my feelings about car rides. (See above comment.) As with most flights from Arkansas, this one had a layover. All flights departed on time, and we caught all of them as well, which was a miracle since our layover was in Atlanta. (You know EXACTLY what I mean if you have ever had a layover in Atlanta.) So we were well on our way to Arlington, Virginia, to meet our long lost boon companion for the first time in ages when this strange jolt and hard pelting sound met our aircraft. Now, I paid ZERO attention to this. I was under the impression that the landing gear was just let down a little too rapidly, or that the wind had caught the wheels as they were being released or something. After all, the captain had just announced that we were only (20? 300? 2000?) miles from landing. I kept looking out the window and minding my own business, blissfully ignorant and oblivious to anything amiss. There was this faint alarm sounding from the back of the plane, and I suppose on some level, I could hear it, but honest to Pete it never filtered onto my radar that an alarm going off on an airplane was something I might ought to be concerned about.
Only later did I discover that, my dearest friend Lacey sitting next to me was HIGHLY concerned about the proceedings on the airplane. One of the SUPER-D-DUPER flight attendants was doing NOTHING to keep people calm as she constantly ran up and down the aisle to look out over the wings and check for God only knows what. (Did she think there would be an answer in the clouds or a gremlin on the wing of the plane holding up a socket wrench like the one in that Bugs Bunny cartoon? I have no idea.) I started to come out of my dream-like state of watching the clouds and the landscape pass by when the crazed flight attendant came on over the loud speaker to announce, rather nervously, that there was something wrong with the plane, and that we may have to land at an airport other than the one I bought a ticket to.
Now y'all, at this time, you would think that I would have started worrying just a little bit. But the loco thing is, that I was JUST as nonchalant as before. I just thought she was overreacting and irritating everyone on the plane. What a nuisance. But Lacey was buying into the "there's an actual problem" scenario.
So after about the third time that the, by now, loony-toons flight attendant came over the loud speaker, the cool, calm, and collected pilot spoke up, breaking into her panicked recitations. He called to my attention the faint but ever-present alarm sounding, announced that one of the engines had encountered a slight problem, suggested that perhaps a large bird had been sucked up in it, and told us that we would be landing at the airport we paid good money for as soon as we could. Thank you and have a nice day.
  It was at this point that I started to realize something might actually be wrong with the plane. After all, if the pilot was talking at us, that meant something, right? The Potomac River had come into my line of sight and that made me keep calm because I knew that meant we had to be real close. (At this point, I'm still not overly concerned, and I haven't even asked Lacey if she's doing ok, because it hasn't really occurred to me to worry.) It was only once the Potomac started getting closer and CLOSER to me that I started to get REALLY concerned REALLY fast. This may be a slight exaggeration, but I thought it was a wonder that the landing gear wasn't dragging through the water as we passed over, because that river was WAY to close to me for comfort. The last thing I wanted to do was filter through my brain and remember how to use my seat as a floatation device. God knows the last time I listened to what a flight attendant was saying about safety evacuations was many moons ago.
 Hold your horses, we didn't land in the river. I repeat, we did not land in the river. In no time, we were making an "emergency" landing on the tarmac and waiting for an emergency crew to come check out the plane. Relief was rolling in waves off of every passenger as some of them had started making jokes about "close calls" and the like, Lacey and I were smiling and laughing about our brush with plane malfunction (death). We enjoyed each other's company and took pictures as several firemen rushed onto the plane to make sure nothing was on fire. Now that I think about it, the cabin was a little smoky….
We had to wait a little while to be towed to the terminal and by then we had let our friends and family know that, yes, our plane had almost crash landed in the Potomac, but we survived and would be getting off the plane verra shortly.

The moral of this story is that in an emergency plane situation, one should just remain oblivious. It makes the experience that much easier. And also, if you survive a goose in the engine (although that was never officially confirmed), you might just get credit towards your next flight, which is pretty John Brown awesome.

southern girl on...almost graduation

" When you're in Texas look behind you, 'cause that's where the ranger's gonna be."
- Theme from Walker, Texas Ranger

    Graduation leers behind my back and above my head, taunting, pushing, and stressing me out.
But I crave it's attention. Graduation means I have completed my thesis; means I'm done with school; means I can take my life back; means I have to take my future education into my own hands; means I'm FINISHED with school; means I have to pay back student loans; means I can take my life back (did I already mention that?). I will miss it/I won't miss it.
    Maybe it means the Razorbacks will start winning again...I would hate to think I'm somehow a bad omen for the team, but they've been sucking it up since I set foot on campus, and there's no excuse for an SEC team to lose to the yankees at Rutgers two years in a row. For SHAME.

    Today, I had an epiphany. The cold makes me long for the holidays. As I was making copies for my supervisor's class, I had a thought about how nice it will be to read A Christmas Carol, as I do every year, but this year with no amount of homework hanging over my head. I defended my thesis before Thanksgiving and I will graduate this weekend, before Christmas making this year the most relaxing and satisfying of these holidays to date (I hope).

   After finishing the statistics class from hell this week, I am officially done with classwork and can start to enjoy the holiday. When will I feel the relief! It has yet to hit me that I'm done. Such a strange feeling! Once the grades have all been tallied, and the chips fall where they may, I suppose I can officially relax and revel in my Master's degree before I have to face the real world head on and pay back my student loan debt.

  Graduation is a special time. Boring ceremony, family gathering, and lots of pride. Afterward, I intend to celebrate with my big ol' Southern family and group of friends who have supported me along the way. Bless them for putting up with the ups and downs that education placed on my moods and emotions, and supporting me even if they didn't understand what I was doing or going through.

  And to all of you who are pursuing advanced degrees, don't give up or lose hope! It can be done! I have faith in you.

southern girl on libraries

"Until I feared I would lose it, I never loved to read. One does not love breathing." -Scout Finch~ To Kill a Mockingbird- Nell Harper Lee

    When I was a kid, I went to a very small elementary school, in a very small old stone building, in a very small community in southwest Arkansas. ("It's alright to be little-bitty." - Alan Jackson) I am confident there is no other building like this one in the whole world. There were three large classrooms (housing two classes of children each: first and second grade, third and fourth grade, and fifth and sixth grade), one room used as a computer lab (and yes we did have the old gray solid piece Apple computers that were AWESOME), a set of very old bathrooms marked 'boys' and 'girls', a teacher's lounge area that I'm pretty sure was just created with some added drywall, and two offices for the principal and the counselor. In the middle of these rooms was a large open area we referred to as the auditorium, which was fitting since it had a stage at one end. Almost everything in the school was a dark brown wood. The walls, the floors, the stage, everything. I believe the extremely high ceilings were white washed, and each of the classrooms had a large wall of windows which sometimes made it hard to concentrate in class. The building was built of wood, stone, and cement. Solid to say the very least. In hindsight, it was like stepping back in time, but I was too young then to know most people did not attend school in buildings like that one. The auditorium, when not being used for school plays, award ceremonies, graduations and the like, was filled with shelves on wheels which contained our library (and could quite conveniently be moved when we needed to set chairs up for our parents to watch our productions and accomplishments). This is where I first learned to adore the concept of a library. I distinctly remember my mother taking me to this library either before I started kindergarten or just after finishing kindergarten, and I was allowed to borrow books in the summer. It was thrilling! It was also the location of many a book fair, which is to this day pretty much my favorite thing in the world.
    I have loved books as long as I can recall. My parents and grandparents read to me from infancy I suppose. More than that, I saw them reading, which fueled my desire to learn to read as soon as possible. I wanted to read books with no (or fewer) pictures, books with chapters, books with over 100 pages! When I first began my attendance of the afore mentioned school at age 5, I was extremely disappointed after the first day of kindergarten did not result in my mastery of the written English word. And unfortunately, at that time, kindergarten was held in a building separate from the one which contained the library, and we had to wait for library day each week to experience it... ("It's a hard-knock life.."- Annie).
    Unlike some children, my love for the written word never faltered. Not through the hormonal middle school years, nor the peer pressurey high school years when I had a lot on my plate trying to be social and all. Not through college when God knows I didn't have time for leisurely reading except during extended breaks. Even now as I struggle my way through graduate school I sneak the occasional peek at a book that I want to read, and not one that I have to. I don't know if I could live without it. I've never tried. But all in all, I don't think my love of reading gets in the way of living my life, it enhances it. My nose isn't constantly stuck in a book, just a lot of the time...
    I can remember days in the summer spent COMPLETELY absorbed in a book. All day long I would sit and read, only escaping my room, or wherever I had chosen to land, for a quick bite to eat after which I would return to complete absorption. This drove my mother crazy! She was constantly telling me to "Go outside and play! Go outside and ___________(insert chore here)! GO OUTSIDE!" Apparently, outside was the place for children and teenagers in the summer, despite the fact that we lived in southern Arkansas and it was a hundred and ten in the shade for Pete's sake. So, after this one-sided conversation ensued on a regular basis, I would take my book and head to the porch or some other shady spot and be content reading outside. For some reason I never started out reading there. I guess I just liked to hear mom nag at me...for reading.
    I could never understand why my mother would have a problem with my desire and ability to read. I'm pretty sure I have told her on more than one occasion, "I don't know why you don't want me to read. You're so lucky! You never had to invest in Hooked on Phonics with this kid!" Lucky her, my little brother, Clint, turned out to be the same way. Many times we have sat side by side for hours, noses stuck in books, sometimes the same book, different copy, different chapter. Now that's sibling bonding.
(To be clear, I later understood that it wasn't that my mother didn't want me to read, she just wanted me to get off my butt, get out of the house and do something active.)
   I don't remember my father ever having any sort of aversion to mine and Clint's reading habits, although we did get the occasional ribbing for being book nerds, but in a purely loving way. I'm sure it did grade on his nerves when we would all gather in the family room and my little bro and I completely ignored the goings on around us because the books we were reading took precedence over anything else.
   I don't think my parents knew what they were getting into by making books and reading such a large part of my life at an early age. However, I am soooo thankful they did it! And despite the frustrations they must have later suffered due to Clint's and my total obsession with the written word, I intend to raise any children I might have in the same fashion. Reading must be made fun, not made out to be a chore. My hypothetical children will be read to and will see me reading, and hopefully that will instill in him/her/them the desire to read as well.
   I told you that story to say this: literacy is important and affects people's livelihoods. An organization called The Literacy Company was founded in order to produce software that teaches people to read proficiently. This company has conducted research regarding literacy and the following are a few literacy facts they have published on their website, http://www.readfaster.com/education_stats.asp:

-  Over one million children drop out of school each year, costing the nation over $240 billion in lost earnings, forgone tax revenues, and expenditures for social services. (McQuillan, 1998) 

-  More than 20 percent of adults read at or below a fifth-grade level - far below the level needed to earn a living wage. (National Institute for Literacy, 2001) -  More than three out of four of those on welfare, 85% of unwed mothers and 68% of those arrested are illiterate. About three in five of America's prison inmates are illiterate. (Washington Literacy Council) -   21 million Americans can't read at all, 45 million are marginally illiterate and one-fifth of high school graduates can't read their diplomas. (Dept. of Justice, 1993) -   Out-of-school reading habits of students has shown that even 15 minutes a day of independent reading can expose students to more than a million words of text in a year. (Anderson, Wilson, & Fielding, 1988) -   Students who reported having all four types of reading materials (books, magazines, newspapers, encyclopedias) in their home scored, on average, higher than those who reported having fewer reading materials. (The National Center for Education Statistics, 2001).  -   In 1999, only 53 percent of children aged 3 to 5 were read to daily by a family member. Children in families with incomes below the poverty line are less likely to be read aloud to everyday than are children in families with incomes at or above the poverty line. (The National Center for Education Statistics) -  50 percent of American adults are unable to read an eighth grade level book. (Jonathan Kozol, Illiterate America)  So, you see, there may be some of you out there who do not like to read, and if that's the case, then you probably haven't made it this far into this blog entry. But for the rest of us, we should feel extremely blessed that we were raised in homes that encourage reading, taught by outstanding teachers, and/or were given natural abilities to learn and the desire to learn more. Literacy is important to success, and I believe it is an added joy in our lives if we take advantage of it.  So, visit your library of choice this summer and catch up on the latest in literature!  (This is my library of choice for those of you living in NWA.) http://www.faylib.org

southern girl on hard times

And I don't mean the book, Hard Times, by Charles Dickens. (Which, by the way, was "hard times" to read. Why yes, I could put it down, and did frequently before it was conquered.)

"Life is hard."

This is not a Southern saying. To my knowledge, it's not even specifically an American saying. And I don't know this for a fact, but I would be willing to bet that there is phrase similar to this in most languages. Even in my laid back, Southern, and privileged American life, sometimes it's just hard to deal, hard to accept, hard to handle. I think we sometimes try to live under the assumption that we are in control of our own lives. Really? As a God-fearin' woman I don't believe that, but even if I weren't, I think I would be able to recognize that more often than not, other people have far more control over us than we would ever like to admit. Let me give you a for-instance. For instance, you might be driving along one day, turn in to the local coffee shop for a cup of joe ("That'll put some hair on your chest...") and out of the blue, some crazy lady who's more worked up than a cat in a sandbox slams her Oldsmobile directly into your passenger side headlight. How much control did you really have in that situation? Could you have avoided it? Let's say there was no where for you to swerve and probably not even enough time for you to react. Still think you ultimately have the control? How about when someone you care about, that is a big part of your life, does something stupid, or inflicts self harm, or directly causes you pain. Ultimately, you have no control over that person and what they do affects you and others around you. I think that "life is hard" and "no control" go hand in hand. Don't they?

Life is hard when grad school hits you like a ton of bricks the second semester. It's as if they were just toying with you the first semester, hooking you in gradually so as not to scare you away. None of your classes are that hard. All of them are in the same building. A thesis is just something you think about in the future, but it hasn't become a reality yet. Then...BAM! They hit you with it. Second semester rolls around. None of your classes are in the same building, none are even in your department's building, and you're beginning your thesis and a case study all in one fail swoop. Why yes, this is a very particular example, perhaps because I'm dealing with it right stinking now.

Life is hard when you do things that you should have been able to control in hindsight, but at the time there wasn't an ounce of control exuding from your mind, heart, or body. Been there too. Why do we act certain ways when we are supposedly in control of our actions? Do we control our thoughts or do they manipulate us into making decisions and completing actions whether rational or not? When in hindsight we would do things so differently, but now, there is no control to be had because that moment has come and gone and we made the wrong decision. No rationality = no control. High emotions = no rationality. High emotions result from expectations. And as Shakespeare may or may not have said, "expectation is the root of all heartache." Whether he said it or not, I think it makes perfect sense.

Then there is always something happening on life's back burner. Family crises, boyfriend trouble, illness, death, disfunction, friendship drama....you name it, someone is going through it right now. They have very little control over those situations I would wager. (And yes I know that people bring things on themselves that they DID have control over, but that isn't what this post is aiming at.)

It's not all bad though. No one ever said life was fair. But with the bad comes the good, and contentment can be found. You might say there is a lack of control over the good times too, but we should always be grateful when those times present themselves. Life is an ever evolving cycle of good and bad, hard and simple, joyous and grievous experiences. This may sound completely cynical, but I brace myself for the bad, because I expect it. On the other side, I welcome the good with open arms because it is a gift.

Right now, you may be feeling some of the things that I feel. Or, you may be walking on sunshine because you're on the up cycle instead of the down. How do you deal with the ups and downs? I think that's what life is about. Dealing with them and helping others deal with them along the way. In most cases, we just need someone to help carry us through the hard times, and celebrate with us through the good times.

southern girl on new year and new beginnings

"Write it on your heart that every day is the best day of the year."
- Ralph Waldo Emerson

"Let our New Year's resolution be this: we will be there for one another as fellow members of humanity, in the finest sense of the word."
- Goran Persson (former Prime Minister of Sweden)

    Well, it's January again. What does that mean you ask? I think you know. That means, that everyone is all gung-ho about getting skinny and fit, everyone wants to do better with their finances, and everyone has projects or goals they wish to accomplish in the new year. The new year, 2013. Can you believe it? Remember Y2K, year 2000? That was 13 years ago y'all. I was 12 years old. Remember how the world was going to come to an end as technology failed us and we were destined to run out of water? Good times. And then last year, we were again destined to all burn and die as the end of the Mayan calendar approached on December 21, 2012. We somehow managed to survive that too. Because sometimes humans make silly assumptions.
    There is nothing wrong with resolving to be better in the year(s) to come. Most of us participate in new resolve for a new year. There is something refreshing about it. Here in the South, maybe lots of women resolved to cook with less butter and grease for health reasons. Maybe the yankees resolved to be nicer to strangers. Who knows what people have planned for their futures?
     Personally, there are a lot of things I wish to pursue this year. For instance, I hope to be 3/4s of the way finished with my Master's degree by the end of the year. I also hope to be 40 pounds lighter. And who doesn't want to be more physically fit I ask you? Good Lord willing and the creek don't rise, I will have accomplished all of these things. Also, I have recently taken up sewing, and anticipate continuing that endeavor. For the moment, every lady I know should be on the lookout for an apron coming her way, as that is the only thing I even remotely know how to sew at present, and what I have a pattern for. (Well, they could anticipate getting one if I could afford it.) Finances: of course I want them to improve, but as a destitute graduate student, I can only hope to stay afloat it seems.
    (Un)Fortunately for me, the beginning of the year also means that I must celebrate turning another year older. I believe that this will be the first year I have a problem with my birthday. Oh how I will miss those days when I looked forward to it. I'm not that old. In fact, I am certainly still in my prime, my youth for that matter. And no I will not spell out for you how old I am, since I have already provided the numbers above for you to figure it out yourself. But still, the closer I get to thirty, the more aware of forty I become. Ridiculous isn't it? I suppose that's human nature, since I know I'm not the only one who has ever felt that way. I certainly remember how hard 40 was for my mother (and I hope she won't kill me for writing this.) So I resolved on her 40th birthday to make her feel as young as I could. I bought her a coloring book and a Disney movie if I recall correctly. She also received a lot of gag gifts and ribbing from the family, but the important thing was that we were all there for her and with her to celebrate her extraordinary life, up to that point, of 40 years. I hope that I can be surrounded by the same warmth at such a fine age. (40 is the new 30, don't you know.) For my father, 50 was the hard year. It seems like that one is harder for men. So for him I gathered his closest friends and family (who also supplied gag gifts) and we played dominoes and cards all evening into the night, just enjoying each others' company, having our cake and eating it too. (Also, I may have posted signs all around for both of these celebrations to make sure everyone was aware that my parents were alive and well at age 40 and 50.) Come to think of it, I don't know why I'm so worried about getting older. Those birthdays celebrations remain very fond memories for me, as I hope they do for my parents. I guess I can only hope to one day have a daughter as thoughtful as theirs. ;)
   So, birthdays and the new year. Most people will have one this year. If they don't, well, that's unfortunate. But everyone gets the chance for a new beginning, a chance to change something they want to change, or achieve something they want to achieve. Goals and accomplishments keep us going, don't they? Investing in ourselves and others is the most fulfilling thing in the world, is it not? Sure it also opens us up to the risk of failure or heartache, but in the end it's the only way to grow. So this year, I wish you health and happiness, the ability to invest where it is wisest, and personal growth that makes you a better human being. As Emerson said, every day is the best day: to start that weight loss program, to stop spending and start saving, to book that trip to the Southern city of your choice and open yourself up to Southern hospitality at it's finest...there's no day like today, so take advantage because no one is promised a tomorrow.
    Happy New Year, and good luck on your new beginning.

southern girl on southern Christmas tradition

Christmas is the season for kindling the fire of hospitality in the hall, the genial flame of charity in the heart.- Washington Irving

I have always thought of Christmas as a good time; a kind, forgiving, generous, pleasant time; a time when men and women seem to open their hearts freely, and so I say, God bless Christmas!- Charles Dickens, A Christmas Carol

      I have always loved Dickens's A Christmas Carol. It's classic, short, British, and has overwhelming depth along with a lighthearted Christmas spirit that I truly believe anyone can enjoy. I read it every year around this time, and this year is no different. It brings to me thoughts that should encompass a person at this time of year, keeping in mind the less fortunate as well as those who really hold meaning in our lives. As you may know, in the first chapter of this heartwarming and honest tale, Ebenezer Scrooge is visited by the ghost of his former business partner, Jacob Marley. Upon Scrooge deeming him a good business man in life, Marley so vehemently replied, "Business! Mankind was my business. The common welfare was my business; charity, mercy, forbearance, and benevolence, were, all, my business." How powerful a sentiment is that? I believe it is not only suitable for this time of year, but all year 'round and it particularly resonates with me, as it should with us as a nation, after the dreadful shooting that recently took place in Newtown, Connecticut. May God bring peace and hope to those families, especially at this time of year when loss seems to be magnified beyond our comprehension. The common good is our business, as Marley said. Sometimes I believe we lose sight of that.      Although these are trying times, the holiday season still brings warmth to me and I continue to see the affect it has on society. Irving spoke of "hospitality in the hall" and "charity in the heart" which I believe crops up in unusual places and unexpected ways this time of year. The society of relatively warm and hospitable Southerners, among whom I reside, become even more warm and friendly, and the words "Merry Christmas" and "Happy Holidays" hang in the air, even in department stores and large retail centers where the hustle and bustle of this season can make anyone jaded and cross. There are more smiles to be seen and shared, and it seems that they spread a little more quickly.     One characteristic of the South at yuletide is that it's full of people wishing for white Christmases and never getting them, a fact we've come to terms with, but still hold out hope for change. (With the threat of global climate change, I don't really think our chances are getting better, but I hope along with everyone else.) "It's not Christmas if the snow don't fall," - Mistletoe. Wrong Colbie Caillat. Although it can be colder here than a witch's titty in a brass bra (as my Daddy always says), I don't believe I've ever seen a white Christmas in southwest Arkansas, and I'm pretty sure we still celebrated with all the joy and cheer of those lucky snow covered northern states. We also make more food per family than any family can reasonably eat, but I'm not sure that's something the South is singularly guilty of. I will be partaking in not one, but two full-fledged Christmas meals this year and I'm working on an exercise schedule in advance. Food is one of my favorite parts of the season, and holiday weight is my least favorite. Spare me the contradiction.     As a Southerner who was raised in the Christian faith, as many of us are known to have been here in the Bible belt, I have many fantastic memories of church related celebrations at Christmas time. I have participated in too many Christmas carols and live nativities to count, as well as gatherings and parties with the nearest and dearest to celebrate the faith we share. All held together by prayer, hot cider and cocoa, and gift giving. It's a warmth that soothes to my very bones and has anchored a feeling of happiness for me this time of year. Because of my faith, my connection to Christmas goes back to the birth of Jesus and the gift he brought to the world. Hope is that gift, and the bleakness of the world would overcome me without it. I think that regardless of whether you celebrate Christmas for religious reasons, as I do, or because it is a tradition worldwide, or if you celebrate another holiday this time of year, there is a warmth to society that exudes from us because this time of year is special. Particularly so here in my dear South.       This year, Christmas has an added bonus as we are celebrating the 50th wedding anniversary of my beloved grandparents. 50 years! I cannot fathom a marriage, much less a lifetime of 50 years. They are and have been a true rock in my life, and continue to set an example that I would be proud to follow through life. I was blessed with two sets of grandparents and one set of great grandparents who have been present and strong examples through my life. They have shown upstanding character and provided visions of what marriage was intended to be, which is refreshing in a society of 50% plus divorce rates and broken homes. Families are capable of growing and changing when they're broken, not always resulting in disfunction and sorrow as we sometimes perceive, but I do hope that any marriage I might have in the future is never plagued by divorce and dissension. My grandparents give me reason to maintain that hope.     And there it is again, that word hope. Tonight, as I head out to distribute candy canes and collect donations for the Make A Wish Foundation, I have a splendid Christmas Eve ahead of me. Perhaps I will help deliver hope to a family who desperately needs it. And that is really what Christmas is about, isn't it? How lucky am I to get to spend it south of the Mason-Dixon line with my Southern family? Blessed beyond belief.      In general and historically speaking, people seem to be a little kinder, happier, warmer, and more compassionate this time of year. At least they do here in my Southern home. I hope they do wherever y'all are as well. And may you have hospitality in your halls, and love in your heart this Christmas, and I say "God Bless it!"

southern girl on emotional labor

"How dare you? How can you squander even one more day not taking advantage of the greatest shifts of our generation? How dare you settle for less when the world has made it so easy for you to be remarkable."
- Seth Godin, Purple Cow

"Being noticed is not the same as being remarkable. Running down the street naked will get you noticed, but it won't accomplish much. It's easy to pull off a stunt but not useful."
-Seth Godin, blog

     I've been reading a lot of Seth Godin lately. Seth tells me that I can be an artist. Seth tells me that in order to succeed in this rapidly changing world that I have to pursue art in my very being, go against my "lizard brain", and stop being a cog in the corporate machine that America's old system has raised me to be. Seth inspires me! Seth frustrates the dog out of me. (First Southernism of the day.)
     For all this and more read Linchpin: Are You Indispensable? by Seth Godin.

     I didn't start this blog today to rave on about Seth and the many things he has to teach us as a society. He can do that himself. But what I do want to address is the art that he so frequently writes about. You have to be an artist to get ahead. Does that mean I have to learn to paint? photograph? draw? sculpt? No. It means that whatever you do, you should strive to invest emotional labor into it. That's what sets you apart from others. That's what people will remember you for, will cause them to remark about you later. The art is the emotion in the mundane.

    A remarkable man came to speak to my 8:00 AM Introduction to Hospitality class a couple of weeks ago. (He actually introduced me to the works of Seth Godin.) His name is Michael Chaffin and he is the general manager of the Capital Hotel in Little Rock, Arkansas. (http://www.capitalhotel.com/site/. Book a room today!) He is an emotional laborer. You can look up his bio online and here's a link to his blog, http://www.starinthemargin.com/, all about the art of hospitality. Since hospitality is the calling I have answered, his insights very much intrigue me. Anyway, the point is that he also introduced me to the existence of Willie the Walmart greeter of Maumelle, AR. Yes, you read correctly. Willie is a Walmart greeter who has a profound affect on people's lives. He actually....wait for it....WELCOMES you to Walmart and not only that, he makes you feel good about being there and shopping, making the whole experience a little easier to stomach. That's talent, right there. Talent and effort combined can produce an explosive reaction. Rumor has it that children's whole day can be ruined if they go to Walmart and don't get to see Willie. (I have a feeling adults may feel the same way, but aren't as readily admitting it.) Here's a short clip of Willie in action.  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dyiZ4lAZ4E8

 

This is Willie in a picture taken from the Arkansas Democrat Gazette. It's one of my goals to go shopping in Maumelle and meet this man. Anyone who can make me not hate my Walmart shopping experience has to be a miracle worker. (No offense Walmart.) He's a local legend!

    This tells me that Willie is an artist. He's perfectly happy being a Walmart greeter. He invests in it emotionally and he reaps the benefits. So does everyone else. 

    It has never been my dream to be a Walmart door greeter, nor will it ever be, but I can learn a lot from this man, from the Willies, Michael Chaffins, Seth Godins, Steve Jobs's, Jack Whites, Harper Lees, etc. of the world who produce art and create emotional inspiration, in the things, tasks, and people they touch.  

   So, here's a question, how can I, you, me, we be the emotion, the innovator, the piece that hold things together wherever we are in life? Is my job at the Embassy Suites as a banquet server really that important? Would the whole place fall apart without me? How about as a graduate student? Would the program sincerely miss my presence if I dropped out tomorrow? What scares me the most is that the answer to these questions is "NO". Today and for the past few weeks I have lived in a state of inspiration. I have to figure out how to add to these places. Seth taught me to always start investing emotionally where I am currently. Don't wait for the perfect situation to come along, because the truth of the matter is, it never will come. You have to make it so. I have to make it so. That's hard! 

    I'm trying to adopt a new hospitality philosophy. I'm attempting to combine my at home hospitality views with my at work hospitality views. It's hard to change a 25 year mentality y'all. When you come to my house, I want you to be comfortable. I want you to feel at home. If I don't offer you something to drink within the first 5 minutes, shame on me. "Need a beverage?" "Are you cold, how about a blanket?" "How's your mom and them?" Southerners are supposed to be warm and welcoming and put guests first, as per my raising (the way I was raised). But at work, do I act this way? Not usually. I just do my job and go home = cog in the machine. People want to be treated with warmth. Not like they are in one big, cold convention center or hotel where the food magically appears in front of them and magically disappears. That's not personal at all. I may not chat them up like I would if they were guests in my home (since they're usually at an event for reasons other than talking to the wait staff) but I can make them feel at home while they're there. You want coffee?! I've got coffee! And if I don't, I'll go make you some with a smile on my face and spring in my step as I go. That's the goal (but many times not the reality). 

    Michael Chaffin told my class that he adopted the philosophy of being an innkeeper early in his career. He's not a general manager in the big bad business sort of sense. He's an innkeeper. His job is to keep the inn and make sure the guests feel at home. Not only the guests, but the employees as well. He said in his blog post, "Treat People Like Family," that he treats subordinates at work like family. It's not in what you say, but how you say it. If you wouldn't say it to the people you love, don't say it to the people you work with. What powerful insight. It must be working since The Capital made the 2012 TripAdvisor Traveler's Choice Top 25 Hotels in the United States. Not too shabby. http://www.tripadvisor.com/TravelersChoice-Hotels

  I take all of this to mean that everyone in hospitality should be a little more Southern. Okay, okay, what I really mean is that traditionally and culturally Southerners are known to be welcoming and hospitable. That's what this industry is looking for. And as for the rest? Well, even if you work at the Quik Sak on the late shift you should look for ways to enhance people's lives while you're at it. You will reap the benefits of that mentality. That's the kind of thing that makes you indispensable.

   I have friends who are actual artists. In fact, I am drawn to them like a moth to a flame. I like to think, no, I know that all of my close friends are artists to some degree or another. They are all passionate about what they endeavor to do, be it their jobs or when they're crafting at home (as many of them tend to be rather crafty.) One of my friends is an actual artist by trade. Here is a sample of her work: http://jordankennedy.500px.com/. She's brilliant and beautiful and she inspires others to be passionate about things they might never pursue otherwise. (Love you Jordan.) And there are others: Lacey Gebhart, Jillian Johnson, Rachel Acosta, Stacey Perry, all the Ashleys, my little brother Clint, my parents, the list goes on and on making me realize how much of a blessing these people are to my life. They are essential to my being, and they spread their gifts to those around them, wherever they are and whatever they're doing. (At least three of them live halfway across the country from me.) 

   Pardon my friend rant. What I want the few readers of this blog post to take away from it is that you have the capability to be useful, unique, and bring emotion and art to the areas in which you participate, no matter what they are. Whether it be working at a museum, in the science department of a university, as a resident director, a stay-at-home mom, an actual artist, or a kid in the band; we as people are now on the market for emotion, as well as skill. Bring it to the table, or spend a lifetime wondering what could have been. Self-fulfillment starts with us. Challenge accepted.