Job Advice: 1

Working and schooling in three unique environments, I see a regular amount of turnover. In this, I also get to observe the actual hiring process. This week has been one of note, so I will start a (possibly) semi-regular blog feature called "Job Advice."

In "Job Advice" I will list real-life examples of what NOT to do (that's what I normally notice) to be selected for a position.

So - here we go:

1) Don't cold call the an institution you do not belong to and demand a paid internship. Especially when one has never been advertised. This goes double if one has never been offered and the institution is struggling for money.

2) Spell check your application. If you can't spell the position or the institution, you are not wanted to represent the institution.

3) Apply for the correct job. Those get tossed out, not transferred to the correct position.

4) When a recommendation letter for X states "X is a survivor," that means the hiring institution (me, in this case) should pity X. Do I look like Mr. T ? That's what I thought.

5) In your application, do not outline how you will use this position in a political agenda to destroy the integrity of the institution.

6) When interviewing, do not tell the interviewers that the institution is not suitable for its clients long term plans, and its focus should be on transitioning its clients to other institutions.

7) Do promptly return a phone call offering you a position. If you can't get back to the institution within a week, you're too lazy to have the job.

intermission for lack of sense: St. Patrick's Day

Revelations on waking up at 10.30 AM on the Day after St. Patrick's Day

1- Ow

2- Good think that I ate at 4AM, it's too cold to get out of bed.

3- My pillow smells of cigarettes. Hey - I bet I smell of cigarettes!

4- My feet hurt. Actually, the gashes on the top of my feet hurt.

5- I haven't been to a concert with that much energy since I saw They Might Be Giants.

6- Sheena may be a punk rocker, but Gexx is no mosh-pitter.


Yeah, I actually thought those, even number 6, even though it wouldn't have qualified as a mosh pit. So therefor, if I can't handle a St. Pat's rowdy crowd, I prbibly shouldn't get myself over my head (lit and fig). The funny thing, I was the mature, responsible designated driver. And I did it, I only had two beers: one at 9.30PM and one at 10 PM because St. Patricks day requires Black'n'Tans and I wanted a short buzz at the beginning. We didn't leave until 2.30 AM, because the band played until 2.15. Then we had to regroup. Of course we were hungry, so off to the illustrious Waffle House where we sat, drank tons of water, and started to feel human again. After dropping people off I made my way back home, rinsed off my feet, and dropped into bed.

So - what was this show that literally kicked my arse? It was St. Patrick's Day at the Preservation Pub with Cutthroat Shamrock.

I have seen Cutthroat Shamrock a few times before. They used to play in G-burg quite often. I remember meeting one of the band members at the Grandfather Mountain Highland Games in 2005, and if they played there then I saw them. There were so many bands, though, that I couldn't keep track of who I saw other than Claan an Drumma (now called Albennach). Also, they played at the 2006 Brewers Jam in K-ville, and althought the band's energy was high the only individuals dancing were a handfull of converse-clad highschoolers doing the Ska/Punkrock-Kick. Then, I saw them opening for Enter the Haggis. I went to see Cutthroat more than Haggis, but as they opened, they didn't get much playing time. At that show, there were so few people and only 4 of us danced. Dancing was somewhay awkward at that moment because the band's energy just calls for a crowd's dynamic.

So - last night. Well, because the previous crowds had seemed so low energy, I wore some going out clothes: going out jeans, going out green shirt, and going out sequined ballet flats. The venue is a long narrow room with sepia toned, blown up portraits of individuals and their quotes on drinking. I stood in the front, literally against the 3 foot tall stage, with a group of friends. Since it was the Preservation Pub and because it was a Saturday St. Patrick's day, there was a huge crowd. But we wanted to be in the front, so we made it.

The band started, and after a few songs, all of the incidental jostling transformed into contrived jostling. After a few more songs the created, contained bumping and jumping of Mob suddenly took off and WHAM! And because it was Mob, we joined. I was wolloped a few times, and I was knocked to the floor a few others. Everyone was quick to help people up, though. So that was nice - less worry of general bodily trampling. Instead, my feet in my little pretty shoes were smashed and covered with a sticky film of dirt mixed with the spilled beer. Ah well, the adreniline was running so high among us that I really didn't care.

A statement of one of my companions could not have been more true: "I think I have more beer spilled onto me than I could ever afford."

We, our portion of Mob, emerged soaked with sweat and beer. No bloodshed, thankfully. The evening was absolutely awesome! I'm so glad to see that the band actually does have a physical following and not just a MySpace posse. Next time I see them, I will wear my kick-arse shoes.

I really should do some work now, though.

Edit a video from the evening has been posted on youtube:

I'm not my mother's feminist

Finally - an update.

I'm not going to continue the past post's train of thought. Too much time has elapsed and I lost it all. Instead, I'm going to do a tardy "Blog Against Sexism Day 2007" post. Why? because I feel like posting, and it seems like a viable topic for this new, thoughtful blog. (Of course, I would attack it in my old blog, but this just seems like a much more viable venue.)



I'm not my mother's feminist

Granted, no one is *my* mother's feminist as she was never one for such "silly" things, and maybe that's why I feel strongly about these race/class/gender issues that tend to weasel their nuances into my work. And feminism and genderism has changed greatly over the years: "the women are people, too" school of thought of the 60s and 70s, the masculanized woman of the 1980s, the man-hating reclamation of feminine virtue of the 90s, and the gender rights "humanism" of the 'aughts.

The one point which always attacks me is the gender-based victimization of individuals. Of course, a good harasser will learn the sensitive points of the victim, but when these points are gender based - a slew of traits which cannot be changed - the victim no longer feels bothered/irritated, but instead feels vulnerable and ashamed. In the same way, many women (me included) have been raised so their "instinctual" action is the polite, "ladylike" one of pleasethankyoudemureglancedown. Yes, the readers laugh, but they have so rarely seen me so far out of my comfort zone that I retreat to these behaviors, which I never realized I was doing and then was reprimanded for being stupid and making bad choices.

Why is this *my* soapbox issue on my late/partial credit BASD Post? Because it is one that has directly effected me. It has influenced my decisions, it even carries over into my behaviors, my worries, and my paranoias. This is why I move my car to just outside my office before dark. Personal genderist attacks have shaped my political and social views, including my feelings on gun control. This is why I, an "independent woman" always tend to seek out some companion (preferably male) if I'm going out in an unfamiliar city. Or, for example, when I interned in the warehouse district of a city, as soon as I got off the bus, I hunched over and pulled a guy's hat down to my ears. Wearing my bulky coat, which protected me from gendered detection as well as the frigid Upstate NY winters, I would rapidly navigate the alleys to my building, passing by the lower echelon of legal and illegal activities. This practice, of course, was not adopted until after I handled a mild incident, but a soothsayer I was and am not and hind site is a great learning tool.

This, in a long hard retrospective look, is also probably why I stayed in that relationship for so long - because this way I had "the devil I knew" in the male next to me. Sure he treated me emotionally like crap, but like he told me, "[I]should be happy, [He] never hit [me]." I could just ignore his comments, but I did not want to ever be hit again. And definitely, being "girl" or even worse, "l'girl," and not a woman, or even Elizabeth (read more about fullness of person-hood later on) has influenced my relationship (or lack thereof) with my parents.

Instead, the bf was there to escort me out of threatening places, even if he was just on the phone. The thought of maleness embodies being a full person, and who in their right mind would ever attack a full person.

Those who are not this sought after "full person" [in this post we focus on gender (not on race or class - sorry, there much be blog days for those topics too)] are those who are not the man's man. Because we are not whole, we do not have a full defense against these genderists. This includes, but is not limited to: women/wimmen/womyn, girls/grrrls, members of the LGBTTQQ community, and even "effeminate" men.

So, what are individuals doing to reclaim the harasser's ammunition? Pet store feminists are reclaiming Bitch and Pussy? The Vagina Monologues, in exposing that word from it's hideyhole of kiddy-speak and slang (peepee, gash, cunt, slit) has placed the word in public parlance again. Perhaps when the Penis Monologues come out, the "PENIS!" game will also lose it's shock value. Cities have their "gayborhoods" (today's new word for me), and some have sex and gender based facilities to protect against such harassers.

I know that inequality is the only constant in social dynamics, but...

Do I view myself as being inferior because my observers see me as such? Or do my observers see me a sub, and open for harassment because I allow them?

(all who are reading, cut the "No one can make you feel inferior without your consent" ERoosevelt crap)

The point of this ramble is not to make obvious the need to protect against gender-based harassment, but instead to make obvious the want to remove this gender-based harassment and uneasiness. It is an inherent right for me to walk down the street and feel safe. Yet I have also been raised being told that dealing with such actions, picking myself up afterwards, cleaning up and continuing on with my life is inherent with being female. I am sick of it.

Although an idealist at heart, I am not here to offer a solution, unless re-exposing the topic for maximum observation is a solution. But I refuse to allow it to be forgotten. I'm sure I could pull out some of the many Symbolists sitting in my bookshelf to "support" my point, but this is a blog - not a term paper. Thank you blogger, for giving me a canvas to air my thoughts as a verbal Pollack painting.
edit on 3/16/2007 to tie some points together