Things I wish I could say to the Parents of my Freshman

Hello,

First, thank you for the trust you have placed in me, and in our institution. You have provided us with the faith that we will do right by your child. Without stating it I also understand that [most of] you are placing the trust that we will shelter them, keep them safe, keep them healthy and even happy.

Did you ever truly consider how tall an order that is? I reflect back upon my young life, prior to full time work, grad school, college, and know for a fact that was an order that couldn't have been fulfilled by my own parents at all times. Sometimes I stayed up too late (reading, I was a nerd), didn't do my homework, sobbed over breakups, and even watched heartbroken as my family stability crumbled around me due to life threatening illnesses of one kind or another.

I have come to understand over my career in higher education that the wild eyed fear that exists in a parent's eyes as they drop their student off that first day is the terror of the unknown, of not being sure that the lessons have been heard, of worrying that your 18 or so years of parenting will not have been enough to prepare them for this upcoming trial.

And so, you turn to me: the adult in the room. However, a huge thank you to the kind few who look at me and mistake me for a student on move in day - bless your souls. My supervisor always likes to reassure parents on this particular day that "Your students have heard your lessons", and some of them have. Some will actively attempt to dump all that information out the minute your car pulls off, while others will valiantly cling to their convictions at times to the detriment of the acceptance of new ideas, people, or paths. Your student may surprise you at where they fall along this spectrum.

The only constant that can be expected is that they are going to make mistakes. Sometimes they will be little mistakes, like sleeping through class, and other times they will be big mistakes that they may be too ashamed to ever tell you about. That, my dear parents, is often where I come in. I get to see your students at their worst - that's my job. When they violate policies, they meet with me. I get to see them combative, angry, frustrated, sad, clueless, arrogant, manipulative, rude, scared, terrified. What makes me enjoy my job is my ability to see the good in the child that you raised, and to see their actions as mistakes. I always tell them, "this moment may be a defining one, but it doesn't have to define you".

I wish I could write this letter to new parents - and maybe some day I will, but the moments that I see them at their worst is when I get to tease out the type of parenting style with which they were raised. Did you solve all their problems? Did they get everything they ever wanted? Have you always risen up and defended their every action? If the answer to any of those questions is yes, they are about to get a very rude, "welcome to the world" when they sit down in my office. I had a girl burst into tears once when I told her that I couldn't get her a single room:

"No?" she asked, incredulously.
"You don't hear that very often.... do you?" I replied, one eyebrow cocked skyward.
"No..... my mother never tells me no." she stated shakily.
"....Welcome to the rest of your life."

I spent ten minutes after that getting her to stop crying.

The point of that little anecdote is that for better or for worse, you are their parents/guardians, and your style will come out in how they respond to an authority figure, how they treat their roommate, and how they deal with stress. This letter is coming to you too late, Freshman Parents, for me to provide pointers and bits of advice on how to best prepare them, however. That will be for another day. What we're focused on here now is what you can do in the moment, what you can do when you're worried, when they scare you, when they won't call, when you are angry at me. What do you do?

My Freshman Parent How-To, Some Hard Truths and Caring Pointers:

1. If you want to talk to school officials about your student, learn about FERPA, and talk with your student about signing a form. This is, however, your student's choice. If they don't want me talking to you, I won't. I don't care who pays the bills. Take that up with them.

2. I don't care what you think, getting involved in your student's disagreements with their roommate is always a bad idea. You can support your student, but please, don't intervene. We've got roommate meditations for that.

3. Have a conversation with your student about the nature of the internet. The things they write, post, blog, snap, tweet, whatever, are a part of public domain - and those words thrown out their about "Imma beat the shiiiiit outa mah roomie!1!" are not private, and can be considered violations of our electronic harassment policy.

4. I understand - this is your child, your baby. Your most precious part of life. I watch over 1750 precious individuals every day, and that doesn't make any of them less special, it just means that I'm not going to individually bend the rules or provide special treatment to the one that you consider 'yours'.

5. If they don't call after 24 hours it doesn't mean they are dead in the ditch, it likely means they are still sleeping. If you ask us to check on them - we will, but depending on protocol we may not update you on their condition. Protip: if we see them during this wellness check, I guarantee, we do ask them to CALL THEIR MOTHER.

6. Some schools will call you if your student is admitted to the hospital - some won't. Often times the ones that do, do so as a courtesy, not as an obligation. So, when your cherub is transported to the hospital for alcohol poisoning (or regular old illness), you might not find out. This is where open communication with your student comes in. Talk about situations like this before they happen - it will cause your student so much less anxiety in the moment and I'll have a lot less tear-filled "don't tell my parents!!!" to deal with.

7. Speaking of open conversation: Sex, Drugs, Booze, and everything else under the sun. That's what your student may run into. Contrary to popular media, not all of them will get into everything, but the ones who have had the opportunity to reflect upon the effects, and why they might or might not want to use or do X, Y and Z are a lot more likely to be responsible about it. Trust me. This is one time to steer the conversation away from abstinence, and towards intelligent decision making.

8. Speaking of sex: Talk to your female AND male students about sexual assault. Talk about consent, and how important it is, and that silence does NOT. MEAN. YES. You may not want to think about them having sex, but you need to make sure they know that sexual assault happens, that you want to be able to have open conversations about their experiences should they so choose. There is nothing more heartbreaking than to sit with a sexual assault survior and have them say, "My parents can never know. They will never understand."

9. Student Conduct (Judicial) Process - you should be asking about this. Basically - what happens when your student makes one of those mistakes mentioned above? Do you get notified? Whom do they meet with? (Me!) What are plausible outcomes in typical situations?

10. Know the campus climate - the Clery Act was signed into law in 1990 and it requires all campuses to publish an annual report about the criminal activity that has happened in the year-to-date. This will help you know what is going on around campus.

11. Strongly encourage your student to at least know the resources available to them on campus, specifically the location of and how to utilize any health services, counseling center, and any sexual assault crisis services. Hopefully this knowledge will be as useless and unnecessary as the stuff they crammed in for last weeks geology exam - but it will be indispensable if they need it.

12. Talk to your student about how to respond to authority figures - specifically in confrontational situations. As I always say - volume never solved any argument. There is always an outlet for complaints if they don't like how situations are handled, they should utilize a proper form of complaint.

13. No matter how much you wish it - sometimes they aren't ready to be away at school. Returning home may seem like a setback, but it actually might be a step in the right direction. They're already beating themselves up - give them a hug, let them know it will be okay, and that after they spend a few days licking their wounds you expect to talk about a game plan.

14. When they come home on break, don't comment on the new hair color, piercing or even a new tattoo. They are, like it or not, an adult now, choosing to do what they wish to their body. You have hopefully taught them that their body is their own, they should respect it, and let no one else disrespect it. This is the current method of expressing themselves - with hope it won't be too permanent (credit for this one goes to my supervisor).

15. I'm here to be your partner, not your adversary. We may not agree, but I want what is best for both the community and your student. Sometimes it may seem like those two are in conflict, but at the end of the day, I promise you - I do care for your student. So much so, that I will make sure they see that their actions have consequences, and will hold them to those consequences.

16. Encourage your student to read our policies and procedures. It's not a bad idea for you to do so either - but it really shouldn't be just you reading and spouting the information back to your student.


I'm sure I will think of more, but this is getting long enough already. At the end of the day, I care for your student. I want them to succeed. At times they can be their own worst enemy, and while I won't fix things for them, I will give them the opportunity to fix things for themselves. It's up to them to decide what they want. That's the scary part - giving them the choice. Some will spurn the hand that is offered, while others will use it to lift themselves out of what might be the most difficult part of their lives thus far. We'll provide the roof, the food (sometimes) and even the resources. I always hope that the happiness, the friendships, and the endlessly fun college memories will follow.

When those memories are not so fun, though, I'll be here.

Your trust is well placed - but really in the end, you aren't placing that trust in me. I think we both know that you're placing your trust in them, your student. It's just really scary to admit it.

--
A Student Conduct Officer who cares deeply for the child you are sending my way

True Confessions: Student Conduct Doubts

There are times that I wonder about the 'point' of the work that I do. I wonder about the quantifiable effect that I'm having upon the students that I'm meeting with. I look at the severity of their infractions and ponder how much time I spend constructing the valid conversations, the critical questions, and most of all the empathetic open-mindedness with which I approach each interaction.

What does it matter? We don't work in a world where thank yous come in droves, where our students typically excel, and where they write notes filled with words of gratitude for the leadership they have witnessed and learned through our relationship. Many times my measure of success is meeting with a student once - and then never seeing them again.

The doubts creep in at times - are they rolling their eyes at the inconvenience of  the meeting they are required to schedule? "It was just drinking, man!" Do they find my attempts to connect and understand authentic, or do I just look like I'm trying too hard?

Reflections of this ilk are what descend on the tough days - the ones where I know my words are falling on deaf ears, where I finally sign that termination letter that I've been dreading, where the mental instability of a student saps the remaining energy that I possess in the space of a half an hour meeting.

The doubt, however, is always held back by a few thoughts, inspired by the quotes of others, and just in case you need a reminder today, here is what inspires me:


We don't get to determine what constitutes a crisis to our students. A hangnail to one may be the straw that breaks the back of another. It is not our place to put their crisis into global perspective, it is our place to help them understand where that crisis falls in the grand scheme of their own life, and assist them in learning that while the choice they made may be a defining moment in their life, the current crisis that exists does not have to define the rest of the long road ahead.


"My job is to believe in other people's children" - Dr. Roper at the ASCA 2011 keynote

We have to believe they can succeed. Even the difficult ones, the ones we don't like, the students who give us reason to despair. We must believe and have faith, because just maybe at that point there is no one else who believes in them - even themselves. Looking at a student and saying, "I believe you can do better" may change nothing - but it could change everything. That is why I do this work.

Blogger Replies to Affronted Working Mother! ClickBait!

To start, the source of my ire is this particular article, I'd recommend perusing it prior to continuing, but I summarize briefly, so your choice:

http://www.thenewportbuzz.com/working-mom-pens-open-letter-to-gwyneth-paltrow-and-absolutely-destroys-her/235550/

There are so many things wrong with this I can hardly stand it.

The dramatic reader-grabbing title just grates on me, I could barely force myself to click on such click-bait feculence (I'm lookin' at you, Christian Winthrop, article author). Once reading the article, the only entitlement that jumped off the page of me was that of the original letter writer. We spend so much time as women wallowing in feelings of inadequacy, that when someone else admits either their own ignorance or challenges some will leap forth and jump on that offered sore spot and tear it to pieces like the vicious harpies every one of us has inside.

The statement that so offended this working mother was this:

“I think it’s different when you have an office job, because it’s routine and, you know, you can do all the stuff in the morning and then you come home in the evening. When you’re shooting a movie, they’re like, ‘We need you to go to Wisconsin for two weeks,’ and then you work 14 hours a day and that part of it is very difficult." - Gwyneth Paltrow, TV interview regarding her divorce

The writer then begins to scathingly pick apart all she deems absurdest in the above quote, which based upon her reply seems to boil down to, "You don't know me! You've got money you crazy bitch! Your life is golden!" .....to paraphrase.

I get why the author of this open letter, that Gwynny Paltrow will likely never read or care about, would be so frustrated by that statement. It seems that Ms. Paltrow is saying that in her opinion, her job as a movie star is harder than working a 9 to 5. My question to this highly affronted mother is - did you ever stop to think about why Ms. Paltrow feels that way? Did you ever spare a spot of empathy to think about the tough time that this actress may be going through with her marriage falling apart and feeling like a failure as a mother for being away from her children? Or did you just consider the bed of money that you clearly feel that Ms. Paltrow sleeps upon to be comfort enough to ease those pains, soothe those wounds? While "ripping her apart" you have committed the same sin of assumption that has so angered you in the first place. You are correct - Ms. Paltrow doesn't understand your life, or your struggles, or your daily challenges with your bank account. On the same accord - you do not understand hers. That's the part you missed.

I'm not going to go into all of the imaginative thoughts that went through my head for why Ms. Paltrow said what she did, or why I only look upon those comments with empathy. That would take all day and none of that would convince you of your strongly held entitled opinion that "I've got it worse". What I will say, however, is that your opinion of movie stars appears to be culled from the pages of those glossy magazines that attract the eye from the aisles of the supermarket checkout line, and not from any direct contact.

Why not try a little empathy instead of affronted irritation? The difference between Ms. Paltrow and you, or myself, is that when you and I make assumptions about other people they are not blasted across the six o'clock news for sheer enjoyment of those who take delight in breaking others down. I know for a fact that 70% of the people in my life don't understand the job or the work I do, and I filter their comments about my particular line of employment through a filter of "they don't understand, all is well. I know the truth." While a bitter pill to swallow at times, I derive my satisfaction from that, as opposed to frothing at the mouth and wielding barbs of sarcasm.

We as women face so much in this world of ours, the last thing we need is to throw one more obstacle in the path of our sisters. Your letter, while witty, to me was just sad. You showed no empathy, and more than a little jealousy - exactly the opposite of what I think you were trying to convey. I won't pretend to know how hard your life is, but instead will wish you well and I hope you have a better day. Maybe writing that letter to a superstar actress made you feel better, I just wish you had found a better outlet for that irritation. Your vitriolic response is why we write hilarious and hyperbolic emails to best friends and why they invented the feature that allows us to make our blog posts, private.

Be well, my sister. The same to you, Gwyn Paltrow,

“There is a special place in hell for women who don't help other women."
-Madeleine Albright

The Greek World Looking In - A Former GDI's Perspective

This rather lengthy piece was inspired by many occurrences over the past few days, but mostly by the nature with which I see others in student affairs react to the world of Greek Life. TL;DR - We're all on the same side, y'all. 

My undergraduate career took place at a 4 year, public, extremely urban institution. We didn't have a football team, we had more students living off campus than we did on - and most of those commuted, and one thing we certainly didn't have was a strong presence of Greek Life. When I was in undergrad I had all the incredibly stereotypical notions of what Greek Life was about, why I would never have rushed a sorority, and most of all: how dumb it was to pay for your friends. I scared all those in my social circle by adding  ΔΦA to my AIM (dating myself) profile my Freshman year - I had to assure all of my horrified friends that no, I was not drinking the Kool Aid, I had been inducted into the German Honors Society. Cue the collective sigh of relief. 

My first year of graduate school meant big changes in my environment - I transition to a state school in the middle of nowhere and spent the next two years somewhat bemusedly appreciating the life that a majority of my friends had called 'college'. Greeks were EVERYWHERE. Our housing department had graduate assistants in what was called Greek Court - on campus houses for lucky fraternities and sororities. Becoming friends with some of those GAs afforded me the ability to look into an unfamiliar world. Visiting their apartments which were nestled cozily at the juncture between two houses, during break times meant that we got to watch TV in the Great Rooms of the houses. There was SO much to look at - hallways filled with portraits of the members, paddles as far as the eye could see, banners, plaques, trophies for unknown awards - I had a lot of questions. 

On top of all of this, nothing prepared me for the experience of Greek Week. The entire campus came alive with the competitions that each group had been practicing and training for since winter break. I finally understood the torn up fields and occasionally uprooted tree - practice for Tugs had been in full swing under the cover of night. My students that were walking back to the halls as I was leaving the library late at night looking exhausted and carrying bags with them had been practicing and putting together costumes for Airband. The occasional sprained ankle or mysterious bruises were a direct result of pyramids practice. As the building I worked in shook with the thundering concussion of cannon fire, I was the only one who reacted. Our secretary laughed at my concern, "Tugs, honey - they'll be firing it off at the start and finish of each one all week."

I took my ignorance into my own hands during my second year. My multicultural counseling class assigned each person to pick a demographic with which they were uncomfortable, and find a way to immerse oneself in that culture. As I sat there, convinced there was not one group on this earth with which I would find myself uncomfortable, the back of my mind whispered, "Greeeeeeeekssssss". After a day of ignoring it, I finally threw my hands in the air, and trudged over to Greek Court to speak with the Greek Life Coordinator. After a short conversation he encouraged me to seek an immersive experience not just with any Greek Life, but with the fraternities and sororities of the National Pan-Hellenic Council (NPHC) - the historically black fraternities and sororities on campus. Before I knew it, there I was, sitting in on an NPHC executive board meeting, slightly wild-eyed and extremely uneasy with how uneasy I was feeling. They accepted me - and my awkwardness - with a graciousness and humor that I wasn't expecting. They offered themselves and their organizations up for any questions I might have. The entire project ended up being one of the best experiences that I had in Grad School. 

Between that, my thesis advisor Dr. Charles Eberly - affectionately known by every Sigma Phi Epsilon brother on earth as 'Doc', and the daily experiences on my campus, my opinions and paradigms about Greek Life were fleshed out. I saw leadership where I once saw sheep, I perceived the potential for lifelong bonds where I once saw blind devotion, and most importantly I saw those who made mistakes and created a poor name for their organization as outliers - no longer the norm. I began to see the philanthropy work, the difficult jobs faced by executive board members, the pride and at times loving exasperation that advisors had for their students.

There has been quite a bit in the media lately regarding hazing and/or poor choices made by brothers or sisters. Compounding this is how these groups are portrayed in not only the reporting of these events, but in every Hollywood or prime time television depiction. Zac Efron’s got a movie coming out guys! His fraternity lives next to a family with a new born baby – expect hijinks and idiotic tomfoolery! No one will go to class! Enough alcohol to fell a football team! Parties large enough to cost the equivalent of a year of tuition at the Pretend University where this Pretend Fraternity is chartered!

My colleagues in Greek Life have their work cut out for them. I may battle the, “Come on, it’s COLLEGE” argument on a daily basis in conduct – but they fight an image that has been reinforced as a party environment far past and beyond any other group or experience out there. I respect both the care they have for their students, but also their unwavering dedication to help these organizations show the world just how fantastic ‘going Greek’ can be. In that I stand with them as a stalwart ally, pushing those around me to question the stereotypes in which they believe; to look for the good behavior, instead of seeking out news of the bad. For every chapter caught up in a hazing scandal, there are hundreds more who practice what they preach and uphold the tenants upon which they were founded.

Not every organization is headed in the right direction, and some make mistakes; that is why we have strong advisors and colleagues in Greek Life. We, being those who do not work with Greeks need to be sure we are not cutting the legs out from under our coworkers with dismissive opinions about Greek Life and those who do that work. We are – after all, brothers and sisters in this great world of student affairs. Work together, not against – and for the love of Mike, its Fraternity, not Frat.

Do you have thoughts on Greek Life? I’d love to hear them. 

Kids these days

When my friends and I get together at times the conversations will turn to things that have happened at my work. While I'm always respectful of privacy, there are certain stories just begging to be told under the heading of, "This is what the kids are doing these days...."

So, for your amusement, a short  and non comprehensive list of what the kids around me, are doing these days:
Disclaimer: Urban Dictionary and Google at your own peril

1. Smoking alcohol (this one is really creative and odd, all at once)
2. Soaking tampons in alcohol and putting them in places that God didn't intend. 
3. Confusing the hell out of me by crushing and lining their adderall to snort - it looks just like coke. Come on.
4. Fanny packs are coming back! This time with speakers - and they are called Jammy packs.
5. Neknominate - the Youtube drinking game that at last count has killed 5 students
6. New marijuana blunts that leave no roaches behind! [Translation: no evidence left but ashes]


That's what the hooligans are doing these days.

Nightmares

Trigger warning for sexual assault.


Last night I had a horrifying dream. I was reasonably prepared to have vivid images in my head as I slept because I had gone to bed early, done some form of physical activity that day, taken some meletonin to help me get to sleep, and was going to get a solid and very much needed 10 hours. All of that in my world is a recipe for my trademark realistic dreams. When they are good dreams I have to do all I can not to smash my phone against the wall when my alarm goes off - Tropical beach? Yes, please. Magical flying super powers? Hell yes! Benedict Cumberbatch? Thank you, more please.

However, they aren't always nice dreams and unfortunately when they are bad ones they are just as, if not more, realistic.

Last night in my dream I was sexually assaulted by someone I know. While that in and of itself should be enough to be ranked as top tier nightmare, the worst part of the dream was yet to come.  That, time-wise, played a relatively small part - he took me by surprise, it happened swiftly, and it became a fight once dream-me got over my shock of what was happening. 

He was enraged at my reaction and after a swift but violent fight that followed I escaped and he began chasing me. We were in a relatively public place that was, as it turned out, packed with people that I know. It turned into one of those clawing fighting biting trying to get away moving through mud kind of dreams. As I passed these people that I knew I was sobbing, trying to explain what happened as he was trying to drag me backwards, intent on retribution. They stared at me with blank faces and patronizing glances - "Why are you being so dramatic, why are you causing a scene? What are you talking about? Him? He's a nice guy! You slept with him? Lucky!"  On top of all of that because this wasn't reality, once I eluded my attacker I could still hear him, both speaking to me, "You're worthless, you wanted it" and speaking to other people, "What a bitch - I give her some and she has the gall to say she didn't want it?" And so on, for the majority of the rest of my dream.

Waking up meant an escape from the situation, but the memory of the crushing feelings of despair, shame, and anger at those around me whom I thought I could trust, remained - along with the realization that this will probably be one of the most realistic dreams that I ever have. Every day survivors of sexual assault face this type of disbelief, lack of support and shaming that I experienced in dream-form. Their responses, their actions, the fight they did or did not put up, how they were dressed, the prior relationship they had with their attacker all will be laid bare to be picked over like a carcass on the side of the road. They will be charged as guilty of wanting it until all signs point to a struggle, a protest, of fitting into a 10 item checklist of "how victims should react". Often it is only then that they have even the hope of being taken seriously, of having their needs met, of being told, "it wasn't your fault." 

I, as someone who has assisted with sexual assault investigations in the past, am not saying that every report must be immediately taken at face value with no further inquiry - rights extend to both the survivor and the accused. But we need to start checking our biases and disbelief, especially if we are not the investigator. We must learn to offer nonjudgmental, non-accusatory support. Anything else will compound and exacerbate an already unimaginable pain.

The end of my story, my dream, is that I woke up. I had the opportunity to wake up from the simulacrum of a nightmare that so many others must live everyday without hope of an alarm clock to bring them out. I have the luxury of leaving this experience behind, because truly - it didn't really exist for me.  I'll be reflecting on this dream for a long time and I think we all need to reflect on how we feed into victim blaming and rape culture every day. It isn't fun to think about, but to live the reality - of which I only experienced in the world of a dream - is hell. We must spend time thinking about how we as bystanders, family, and friends can serve as supporters - not contributing monsters to the nightmare that some live day in, day out, waking and asleep. We have to do better.

The Agony and the Education, Apologies and Gratitude

"It's a dangerous business, Frodo, going out your door. You step onto the road, and if you don't keep your feet, there's no knowing where you might be swept off to." - J.R.R. Tolkien


It is two weeks and a day from the marathon. I'm feeling unprepared because I haven't been able to run this week at all. Work has been stressful, and I've been working late - late enough to make running not an option or at least enough to be exhausting. Thankfully there are not a lot of duty days left between now and the big day.

I really still haven't faced the reality that I'm actually going to be running a marathon. It has been a long journey to get to this point and I think I expected to feel like a different person. The Miranda of February wasn't a Miranda that could run a marathon, but the Miranda that is sitting here on the couch doesn't feel any different. I still struggle with getting out to go and work out, and the challenges of running are still present.

I've learned a lot though. I've figured out what shoe size I wear -  a surprisingly mysterious number. I've learned that it is possible to have a toe that is all blisters, and then get more blisters on top of the original ones. I know what an iliotibial bands are, and that mine are constant complainers and are extremely high maintenance. I've gotten an idea of how often I need to re-energize on long runs, and I don't care what Nick thinks - vanilla bean Gu is freaking delicious. I've been inspired and humbled by the runners that I see on the lakefront every week, when a 60 year old woman, 80-ish year old man, 300lb person is there every Saturday running mile after mile it is hard to make excuses. For that matter I've decided that running is 90% mental. If you make the decision to get up and go, the battle is nearly won. It's the choice to make that first step out of bed and into your running clothes that is the hardest one of them all.  Most of all I've realized that first step is still hard and will likely always be hard, but I've also realized that once I make it I can accomplish more than I ever thought possible. One week ago today I ran 20 miles. 8 months ago I never would have believed that possible.

This journey hasn't been without sacrifice and it hasn't been my all my own. I owe so much to so many - both thank yous, and apologies. I'm sorry that throughout this arduous training I've drifted away from almost everyone in my social circle. I'm sorry that I'm not making my Autumn trip to Boston and will be missing so very much this year. I'm missing the wedding that I've been looking forward to for over 3 years now and I wish it was remotely possible to attend. I haven't and won't get to see one of my very best friends this year, and I miss him. I'm sorry to my body - you weren't ready and I've pushed you to the limit, you've held up so well, two more weeks - hang in there. I'm sorry to my husband, without whom I wouldn't have have the confidence to get this far. He's helped patch up my toes, rubbed out knots, cooked mounds of pasta, and wiped away so many tears. His own injury has slowed him down but not done anything to stem the tide of unwavering support. He's had confidence since the beginning, even when I had doubts.

I have so much gratitude that I might burst with it. I'm so grateful for my experience with Team in Training - I wouldn't have been able to train for this run without them. I can't thank enough to everyone who has donated to my my fundraiser - your support has been overwhelming and so appreciated. I'm planning a fun way to say thank you officially after the race. I'm thankful for everyone who has offered me advice, words of wisdom and reassuring words. I'm thankful beyond words that I've had such a support network from my athletics Alma Mater. Due to one special person, I've had fears put to rest, injuries treated and further ones prevented. I would not be here without you.

There are things to do and more miles to run before the big day, but pervasively, the reality of that this journey is nearing it's end is starting to enter my consciousness. I am simultaneously anxiously awaiting and fearing that day, both due to the magnitude of it but also because it marks the end of a really long and life-altering odyssey, and I don't fully know what is on the other side - hopefully a finish line. For now, however, I'm going to stay here in this moment and trust that these past 8 months have prepared me to take on this trial that I never could have imagined.


"The miracle isn't that I finished. The miracle is that I had the courage to start"
- John Bingham

Hey there, Coppertop: A blog post about robots and gratitude.

One of my biggest faults is that I don't express gratitude or positive reinforcement very well. I've also gotten the feedback that I tend to be an emotional sponge - I am a pro at sucking up the emotions, concerns and thoughts of others, but when it comes time to actually share of myself in return the response is superficial and emotionless. This was a surprising critique for me to receive - I always feel the opposite, like I'm spouting out personal information and emotional explosions like a broken water main. I can't deny the consistent feedback however, and through self-reflection [god forbid it be reflection to someone else] I've come to realize that I'm a deflection motor mouth. I'll talk with you and express opinions about everything under the sun, I'll even rudely dominate the conversation out of sheer conversing excitement [I swear, it's not because I like to hear myself talk, I just love information], however if the conversation starts taking a personal direction, the questions will become about you, your life, your family - and I'll listen [and provide commentary]. Unless you are one of a very select group of people (N,P,N,M,B) I won't discuss my emotional state, how things have really affected me or what I fear. You might inquire, but without even realizing it I will deflect. I'm a death star with better Ben Kenobi prevention.

What does this have to do with gratitude and positive reinforcement you might ask? Saying thank you [in person] or telling someone they did a good job is awkward for me. Watch me do it [please, don't] sometime - it's almost as bad as watching me say good bye. Saying thank you and expressing gratitude is an out reach of emotion that I don't do very well. My 'good jobs' unless rehearsed come out worse than an absent father's pats on the back: "Good on ya.... uh.... buddy." In a job where I oversee many students who crave public emotional and positive reinforcement this doesn't go over very well.

Several recent events have led me to consider why bad things happen to good people and how my answer [because they do, and there is nothing you can do about it] means that we have to take advantage of every precious moment and get better at telling people that they have made an impact upon our lives. You really might not get another chance. So, in honor of this, I provide you below a list of things and people [by no means an exhaustive list] that I am thankful/grateful for. Throwing it out to the webz in general is a bit of a chicken shit way of expressing emotion and gratitude, but baby steps:

Things Miranda is Thankful For:

- My epic parents who have faced every health problem with grace and shown me how a loving couple can pull through anything. They fostered my love for reading, theater, travel and odd things. Thank you.

-My partner. Someone who loves me, cares for me, supports me, supports my insane ideas and stands guard against my insecurities, always reminding me that I can do anything - except say hi to every dog I meet on the street. He told me that was weird [It is NOT].

-The remaining list of people (P,N,M,B): you all bring something extremely special to my life. You are the rare besties (N/B) and siblings (P/M) that someone can go weeks or months without speaking to, but pick up literally, with every inside joke intact, where we left off. You four have supported me through it all with love and just the right amount of critical judgment.

- Our tiny, adorable, lovely apartment.

- Good health and high spirits, specifically the latter when one doesn't have the former.

- Working at a job where I am supported, encouraged, teased [bitches, you just don't get mah weirdness! It's awesome!] and challenged. Where everyone else works with professionalism [sometimes] and energy [always].

- The thrill of options for the future, and the privilege to have them.

- Traveling. Stay tuned for more exciting updates.

- Students who come in defensive and lower their own shields to have honest conversations with me

- My insane family, blood, marriage and by choice related. In your own way you teach me lessons every single day about good things and bad and how not to act. 90% of you are off your rockers, but you likely argue that about me as well.

- My marathon training, and all the lessons I've learned while putting one foot in front of the other for each mile I run. I'm learning patience, discipline, how to swallow my unhealthy amount of pride, how to commit to something and follow through, what body glide is and how it can save your life,  and most importantly, how to come in last with a smile.

- All of the people that I call friends.

- Coffee, elixir of the gods.

- Everyone who contributed to my studies of Judaism. I don't talk about this part of my education much, but it was one of the most impacting areas of study of my entire educational career.

- Ditto on the above with my Master's thesis. That bitch didn't write itself, and it certainly didn't come from me alone.

- Flan. Judge me.

- Living on State St in one of the best cities in the world. I wake up and look out our 17th floor window every morning and I don't think I'll ever get tired of this view or of telling people who ask, "Oh do you live around here?" "Yeah..... on this street, a few blocks that way."

- All the mentors who have provided reality checks and criticism.

- The opportunity I had to work in the food service industry - try it, it'll change your perspective on people and those who wait on you. Tip yo servers!

- The baby blanket I still have. JUDGE ME.

- Puppies. Big ones.

- You. For taking the time to read what I have to say when you likely had much better things to be doing. Thanks, yo.

To everyone I know fighting battles, I love you. Cancer's a bitch, Drunk Driving is dumb as hell, and infidelity sucks. But guess what - you're awesome. Really you are, and the best part about life sucking is eventually it gets better and easier. You're stronger than you know - and more loved than you could imagine.


How is that for an outpouring of emotion? I'm going to go robot my way through the rest of my day as I just expended my daily amount into one blog post. It wasn't as awkward as I thought.

Don't Sacrifice The Gift

In the event you feel that this post is telling you a tale but you missed the backstory, bravo - you are perceptive, Watson. This post is a part of a separate post that I have chosen to keep private for various reasons. With some edits, this excerpt was very public blog-worthy (and yes, the title is Pre inspired).


I have been doing some soul searching, a continuing work in progress. Along this winding stream of consciousness I have had a few thoughts float to the surface that I feel are important enough to hold onto.

I need to work on living in the moment, because right now I'm stressing out about a dream I have that is at least 2 years at the earliest away from any sort of valid attempt, and agonizing about perceived future complications has been giving me a headache. A lot can change in 2 years (I'm looking at you, grad school). I have never seriously made the attempt to alter my thought process from future forward to live in the moment. YOLO was an easy excuse to live in the moment and do stupid things when I was younger, even if we didn't have a fancy acronym and celebrity spokespeople for it. This time though, is different. This time I want to do this for me, to improve my life. Staying in the here and now will hopefully relieve some of my seemingly overwhelming anxieties about the future.

I have decided that a huge part of grounding myself in the here and now means becoming my best self in every aspect of this present life. The best Miranda I can be. I want to be the best at my job, not for advancement, just for mastery. I want to be the best member of my professional organizations - not for recognition, just for competence. I want to be the best wife I can be purely to keep our relationship healthy in all possible ways. I want to be in the best shape I can be to feel good about myself and to achieve short term goals for my fitness.

The question keeps up as a litany in my head "are you being the best you can be right now?" "is this making you the best, or tearing you down?" "are these thoughts productive?" That sort of thinking has some downsides, but I'm working to deal with that fallout as productively as possible.


I need to pack some of my future desperate desires and dreams away for a while, and focus on being me. The best me I can be.

The thoughts will still be there - but I have bigger plans at the moment. I know they wait patiently for me to return my attention back to them. All of my solutions and long term plans that I have developed in just 24 hours of attempting not to think about my dreams have been put on hiatus.

They're still with me, and they can wait.

Obligatory, and Honest

What do I want to do in this new year? It's easier to focus on this than the year gone past - one that at times was gloriously, deliriously happy - and at others just maddening and sad. While I described 2012 in the last post I attempted to write as one of extremes, I would have to admit it was one of balance. While life was out of kilter in many tragic ways, it was also a time of celebration and happiness.

So, 2013.

In the inspiration of this post, which I recommend you all read:

http://www.cracked.com/blog/6-harsh-truths-that-will-make-you-better-person_p2/

I'm going to say what I will accomplish in 2013, though, as that article says, everything in me fights improvement:

1. I will be a fluent speaker of German again 365 days from now.

2. I will run. I really can't say how fast or how far - but enough that I'll enjoy it once again.

3. I will take better care of my health.

4. I will spend time reflecting on what makes me a good wife - and work to live up to that.

5. We will travel out of this country, and we'll like it - damn it.

(I'll get a tattoo. Secret wish)

6. I will write more, and get published again at least once.

7. I will be better with things like paperwork and bills. I'll attempt to lose the crippling anxiety that comes with that type of organization.

8. I will hold a committee position in a professional development organization by the end of the year.

I think that's enough for now.

Happiest of new years to you all, and for the love of Mike - stop shooting fireworks off of your balconies in the Loop. It's rather unnerving to see explosions at the 17th floor.

Hope, always.