In Defense of Government Workers

I've worked for government organizations or agencies for.... hmmmm.... over 10 years.  Wow.  I never knew government employment had a bad rep, until I worked for a state agency.  After all, my dad was a career Air Force officer.  He was a government employee, right?  My mom was a teacher - a government employee, right?  I had never heard anybody talk disparagingly about their jobs or their employers.  Why was it that, now that I was a state employee, I was suddenly part of a culture that believed the general public thought poorly of them.
     Government workers are known by a myriad of names.  State officials.  Public employees.  State workers.  Civil servants.  All of these names seem to have gotten a bad rap, the face of bureaucracy, of government waste, of laziness and ineffectiveness.  I have to say, for the most part, my impression of government employees has been quite the opposite.
     I like to think of government workers of what they actually are:  teachers, health professionals, bridge builders, city developers, engineers, computer programmers, police and fire safety personnel, nurses, doctors, data analysts, child protective workers, educators, social workers, judges, lawyers, grant managers, and - yes - policy makers.  The government workers I know are smart, hard-working, dedicated people who do the job they've been given with heart.  They do it because they are part of a system that, at the end of the road, is meant to make peoples' lives better.  What's more, they are incredibly - sometimes painfully, acutely - aware of the fact that they are spending taxpayer money and go to great lengths to ensure financial accountability and fiscal responsibility.  I've never seen anybody purchase a $400 hammer.  I HAVE seen government employees who make less money than they should, refuse to submit reimbursement for their travel expenses because they didn't see it as a big deal.
     I'm not saying the system is perfect.  In fact, it is far from perfect - like any system is, simply because people are involved and people are imperfect.  Layers of bureaucracy can create gridlock.  I've seen this happen but despite the frustration of that, at the heart of it is people wanting to do the right thing.... unless they are intentionally trying to cause gridlock.  That's another issue....  of the tea party variety.
      What I'm trying to say is next time you go to the library, or interact with a state-funded university, or go to a health department, or read about a police officer injured on the job, or drive on a road or bridge or highway, or use 211 or 411 or 911, or enjoy some relief after a disaster, or thank our men and women in uniform, there was a government worker doing his or her job.  With heart and for the greater good.... not to create unnecessary bureaucracy, but in spite of it.

10 Ways Parenting is like the Peace Corps

So I was in the Peace Corps - the "toughest job you'll ever love."  Next to parenting, that is.  It occurred to me this week, staying home with my son who has a mysterious fever-causing illness, how similar my life is to when I was in the Peace Corps.  Here's how:

1. Children, often partially naked and hungry, are watching my every move making me feel like a big fish in a little glass bowl.  
2. When driving distances , I often find myself eyeing good spots for places to pee by the side of the road.  (But for the kids - not for myself, so that's a small difference.)
3. I never feel fully clean...  except for the two minutes during or right after a shower, and then the feeling quickly dissipates.
4. There is an ongoing theme of illness - some diagnosed, some mysterious, often causing fevers and diarrhea and vomiting.
5. I get to learn several new languages!  The language of parenting, some sign language (of the baby variety), and each of my children's' unique words for things that until recently only I could understand.  It's not French and Kabiye, but it's close!
6. Sometimes I feel like I'm forging through the parenting landscape with nothing but a bicycle and a book.  Before I had "Where there is no doctor" but now I have "Where there is no super nanny" and at least one partner who's got my back!
7. You can never have enough batteries, duct tape and stuff to wash your hands.  
8. Gift giving has climbed the ladder to a more important place in my life.  Birthday parties galore.  Rewards for job well done.  I'm not used to this.
9. It feels like constant problem solving.  "How am I going to get my gas canister to town when the market isn't until Wednesday and there's no way to find a taxi?" is very similar to "How am I going to navigate around Target if I need a huge bag of dog food and the baby demands that I carry him on my shoulders?"
10. I learned that the feelings of wanting to run away or hide, and shower everybody in sight with love and affection are not as far apart as you might think.

I am now fully convinced the guy who crafted the Peace Corps slogan was also a parent and thus the similarities.  Now I must go tend to my naked 2-year-old asking for food.

Why I Like Power Outages

OK so I know power outages are causing trouble and headache for folks across the country.   They cause food to spoil.  [Hint:  Call your homeowner's insurance company and they'll probably cut you a check for that.]  The damage that caused the power outage also likely caused damage and destruction and sometimes death from injury, extreme heat, extreme cold or failure of medical equipment.  Yikes.  I almost don't want to go forward with this post.

But forward I will go into that dark night.

We've had power outages for days on end, both in the winter and summer months. All times, I've pretty much enjoyed it.  Yes, I've had people call me crazy, poke fun at me, mock me, torment me [ok not that last one] but I stand by my emotions.  I {mostly) like it when the power goes out and here's why.

1)  It's quiet.  Real quiet.  Not 'real' as in 'very but 'real' as in 'genuine.'  Genuinely quiet.  The kind of quiet that these days in America, you have to go into a cave to hear.  It's a little unnerving at first.  Where is that hum of electricity?  But then.... it's calming.  You hear birds and animals outside.  This is what the world really sounds like.  It reminds me - this is nature's world and we're just living in it.

2) It's dark.  Real dark (real = genuine, again).  I now know what my house looks like at night without its makeup on.  I am reminded of what people mean by 'light pollution.'  I don't have the neighbor's spotlight shining in our window.  It's soothing.

3) It's hot.  I don't mind being very hot as long as I can stay hydrated.  You get used to it.  People all over the world have to be very hot their whole lives. It reminds me that this is how the world really feels.

4) No TV.  No Internet.  Smartphones until they die.  Again, back to basics.  To *real* reality, without the luxurious modern conveniences that we 'love' but leave us wondering - do I need it?  Am I controlling it or is it controlling me?  When you can't turn it on, the answers to those questions become more clear.  We read more.  We talk to our neighbors more.  We tell more stories and don't rely on power to help us connect.

5) I feel spoiled.  Is this a good thing?  Yes.  I believe it's good to be reminded of those things in life that we take for granted that many in the world do not have that could benefit them.  I appreciated my access to refrigeration, and air that keeps me at a comfortable temperature, and devices that keep me engaged and informed of the world.  When they turn back on, I think - I'll try to appreciate them more.

6) I feel sad.  I think about my friends in Togo where I lived 10 years ago.  In so many ways, electricity would benefit them.  Keeping vaccines and medicines at the right temperature.  Light to help children read and study by at night.  Electricity for devices that would connect them to the world so they would know their dictator was not god.  I'm happy to be reminded of Togo even if it springs from sadness.

That's why I like it.  Call me crazy!

Pedicures: Pathway to Peace

10 years ago I was in the Peace Corps in Togo.  50 years ago the Peace Corps began.  I missed all the anniversary festivities this weekend in Washington DC because of rain, kids and life.  That's ok.  I don't need to go to festivities to remember my time there (though I do crave Togolese food something awful!).  I think about it almost every day.

There are threads that run through life that connect people, places and moments through time and space.  Oddly enough, Pedicures are one of those threads for me.

One of my favorites memories from the early days in my village began with pedicures.  I remember the first nights being in self-imposed seclusion in my house, not comfortable speaking the language, not comfortable with the dark of night, with only using a lantern to get around, with being an object of curiosity.  I would shuffle about in my little house, feeling all of the children's eyes peering at me from outside.  Fish in a bowl - that was me, except the barrier was a mixture of culture, awkwardness and curiosity. 

Former Peace Corps volunteers had recommended packing nail polish.  One night, I wanted so badly to make a connection with my new 'family' outside and so I finally remembered - the nail polish!  Be bold!  Be brave!  Be enameled!  None of us could speak to each other, but I opened the door and showed them all the colors of 'vernis.'  Floodgates open!  Within minutes, all the children were in my house and it was the biggest pedicure party I'd ever seen!  They spoke to each other, tried to speak to me, I tried back, and somehow we all got our nails done and made friends.

From that night on, pedicures happened pretty regularly, which opened the door for card-playing, hand-clapping games, and even the littlest ones trying to teach me the local language.  I finally had friends who eventually became like family and I miss them dearly to this day.

Peace through pedicures.

Tonight, the kids and I did pedicures!  Somehow, that same magical thing happens in our house when we bust out the nail polish.  Even the guys want in on the action!  Hurt feelings get smoothed over, tears and frustration are gone for a short while and none of us have to be on the same page to be happy with each other....  as long as after everything, nails are blue or pink or red.... with sparkles of course!

What problems have you solved with nail polish?  :)