I've been reading, with avid interest, the articles discussing the upcoming arguments in Stafford vs April Redding to the Supreme Court.
Reading the articles surrounding the case have actually made me incredibly grateful that I am not trying to raise a child, especially a female child, in today's society. Savana Redding (now 19) was 13 years old when school officials decided to strip search her, based on a classmate's tip that she had a contraband drug on her person.
Read again. School officials strip searched a 13 year old girl. Without first calling her mother. Without having anyone advocate for her.
She voluntarily consented? She is thirteen years old, with school officials breathing down her neck, with no idea that officials were going to request that she shake out her bra and jiggle her underwear. The imbalance of power makes consent impossible in this case. The imbalance of power alone makes consent difficult to accept.
The drug in question was a prescription strength dosage (400mg) of Ibuprofen.
If Slate's summary of the proceedings is an indication, it is going to get a hell of a lot more difficult for parents to send their children to school. The two page summary was infuriating to say the least and left me with the distinct impression that the majority of the Supreme Court justices regressed to the age of 13 year old boys, sniggering in the locker room.
In other words, they don't think strip searching a thirteen year old is a big deal, if it keeps the drugs away.
Tuesday, April 21, 2009
Sunday, April 19, 2009
Photo Class - Part II
Today was the second of the four class series I am taking at the Pittsburgh Glass Center. Today was all about practicing. Practicing how to sandblast the plates. Practicing how to transfer the image from the transparency to the resist. Practice transferring the resist to the glass plate. Practicing painting, with powders and beautiful, fast-drying paints. Practice sandblasting the resist off of the glass, leaving paint or a ghost image behind, to rub with paint or powder.
The sandblaster is an intimidating piece of equipment, a large box with a plexiglass window in which the user turns on the compressed air. places the glass plate into the unit, latches the door, flips two switches, places her hands into the attached rubber gloves, picks up a device that looks like a gun and presses down on a pedal to shoot air onto the plate.
Even though the unit is enclosed, dust goes everywhere. Which means wearing an itchy face to avoid inhaling the dust and lead-based paint particles. And because the unit is enclosed, the dust has etched into the window of the unit, leaving only a small section of clear window in which to work. This section is (naturally) in the most inconvenient location of the unit.
We are also required to wear masks while handling the paints and powders, as the majority of them are lead based. The lead makes the color rich, but adds an element of danger to the creation process. The masks can be removed if no one is working with powders and while washing out the resist.
Bad idea, I discovered shortly after leaving the center. Not only were my clothes saturated with dust and powder but I had also inhaled enough to make the rest of this afternoon rather uncomfortable. I suspect the mask will have to remain on through the entire class next week.
The sandblaster is an intimidating piece of equipment, a large box with a plexiglass window in which the user turns on the compressed air. places the glass plate into the unit, latches the door, flips two switches, places her hands into the attached rubber gloves, picks up a device that looks like a gun and presses down on a pedal to shoot air onto the plate.
Even though the unit is enclosed, dust goes everywhere. Which means wearing an itchy face to avoid inhaling the dust and lead-based paint particles. And because the unit is enclosed, the dust has etched into the window of the unit, leaving only a small section of clear window in which to work. This section is (naturally) in the most inconvenient location of the unit.
We are also required to wear masks while handling the paints and powders, as the majority of them are lead based. The lead makes the color rich, but adds an element of danger to the creation process. The masks can be removed if no one is working with powders and while washing out the resist.
Bad idea, I discovered shortly after leaving the center. Not only were my clothes saturated with dust and powder but I had also inhaled enough to make the rest of this afternoon rather uncomfortable. I suspect the mask will have to remain on through the entire class next week.
Wednesday, April 15, 2009
Photo Class I
In a search for further enlightenment, I am taking a four week class on Sunday mornings at the Pittsburgh Glass Center, learning how to transfer photographic images into glass.
It is intimidating, walking into a room with a group of strangers, no matter how small the group is. All the students are women and our ages range from twelve to to forty something. I am the only member of the class that has no experience working with glass. I am also the only member of the class with minimal photography experience.
The instructor gave us an overview of the techniques she would be teaching and gave a very brief lesson in converting images for use. She also talked about the different things we could create once the images were transferred to the glass – plates, jewelery, wind chimes...
It was good to get out of the house and do something challenging for a few hours.
It is intimidating, walking into a room with a group of strangers, no matter how small the group is. All the students are women and our ages range from twelve to to forty something. I am the only member of the class that has no experience working with glass. I am also the only member of the class with minimal photography experience.
The instructor gave us an overview of the techniques she would be teaching and gave a very brief lesson in converting images for use. She also talked about the different things we could create once the images were transferred to the glass – plates, jewelery, wind chimes...
It was good to get out of the house and do something challenging for a few hours.
Friday, April 10, 2009
Into the Fire - Part II
I've never dealt with a personality like the individual I am dealing with now. I've never had the professional experience of sitting helplessly as my words are twisted and used as weapons against me. The last time I had a conversation with someone in which they asked me to explain myself, I explained myself, only to be informed that my explanation was “not an excuse and [unacceptable]” I was seven years old.
I don't understand this kind of management style. I don't understand what goes through the mind of an individual who indulges in this type of management style. It is not productive. It is not effective. It invalidates the legitimacy of any true criticism of my performance, as it is wrapped up on a series of implied statements, personal attacks and contradictory instructions about what I should be doing to improve the situation.
Anytime you preface or reinforce a statement by stating “I'm not saying you are [adjective of choice]”, you are, in fact, saying it. In the past 24 hours, over two meetings I have been called lazy, disorganized and told that I am not taking my responsibilities seriously. And I have a third meeting with this individual next Wednesday to discuss “next steps”. All indicators are that this meeting will be very much like the last two, in which suggestions on how I could improve the situation will be used to berate me about not implementing them to begin with.
This individual is not my immediate supervisor, but is in a position of serious authority. I have been informed that there is absolutely nothing I can do but to wait for their attention span to divert elsewhere, probably in two or three weeks, possibly several months, sometimes never. That no matter what I do or say, it will not be the right answer.
If this individual gives me instructions then decides on a different course of action, thus causing me to submit bad information, it is my fault for not reading their mind. If I send them something for review and do not send a reminder, I am the one who has dropped the ball. If I don't met unexpressed expectations, it is because I did not ask the right questions. This individual will never apologize, will never concede that anyone else's ideas are valid and will never take responsibility for their actions. Ever.
I've also been told, short of committing a sacrifice of small animals in the middle of the workspace floor, this individual can not fire me without going through both my immediate supervisor and his supervisor for approval. That there are multiple parties willing to step up and defend me if this individual decides that he wants to get rid of me. Additionally, since this specific duty I appear to be failing to perform falls outside my core responsibilities, the consequences would be minor* and there would be more than ample opportunity to work on other projects within the company.
The stress of this is making me ill. I am not sleeping. I am having trouble eating. The pit of nausea in my stomach is larger and I go to work each day praying that I can get to the end of it without triggering a migraine. I can not concentrate on my work, at a time when I need to be able to fully concentrate.
* Loss of stock options and bonuses that will not be paid out this year anyway.
I don't understand this kind of management style. I don't understand what goes through the mind of an individual who indulges in this type of management style. It is not productive. It is not effective. It invalidates the legitimacy of any true criticism of my performance, as it is wrapped up on a series of implied statements, personal attacks and contradictory instructions about what I should be doing to improve the situation.
Anytime you preface or reinforce a statement by stating “I'm not saying you are [adjective of choice]”, you are, in fact, saying it. In the past 24 hours, over two meetings I have been called lazy, disorganized and told that I am not taking my responsibilities seriously. And I have a third meeting with this individual next Wednesday to discuss “next steps”. All indicators are that this meeting will be very much like the last two, in which suggestions on how I could improve the situation will be used to berate me about not implementing them to begin with.
This individual is not my immediate supervisor, but is in a position of serious authority. I have been informed that there is absolutely nothing I can do but to wait for their attention span to divert elsewhere, probably in two or three weeks, possibly several months, sometimes never. That no matter what I do or say, it will not be the right answer.
If this individual gives me instructions then decides on a different course of action, thus causing me to submit bad information, it is my fault for not reading their mind. If I send them something for review and do not send a reminder, I am the one who has dropped the ball. If I don't met unexpressed expectations, it is because I did not ask the right questions. This individual will never apologize, will never concede that anyone else's ideas are valid and will never take responsibility for their actions. Ever.
I've also been told, short of committing a sacrifice of small animals in the middle of the workspace floor, this individual can not fire me without going through both my immediate supervisor and his supervisor for approval. That there are multiple parties willing to step up and defend me if this individual decides that he wants to get rid of me. Additionally, since this specific duty I appear to be failing to perform falls outside my core responsibilities, the consequences would be minor* and there would be more than ample opportunity to work on other projects within the company.
The stress of this is making me ill. I am not sleeping. I am having trouble eating. The pit of nausea in my stomach is larger and I go to work each day praying that I can get to the end of it without triggering a migraine. I can not concentrate on my work, at a time when I need to be able to fully concentrate.
* Loss of stock options and bonuses that will not be paid out this year anyway.
Sunday, April 05, 2009
Into the Fire
I've been listening to a lot of David Grey concert recordings these past few weeks, thanks to the Live Music Archive*. The more I listen, the more I come to appreciate the mixture of dark and light in his music and lyrics. Especially the dark. David Grey's lyrics can be very, very dark. The One I Love? The man in the song dying of a gunshot wound.
I find a certain comfort in listening to someone sing about drugs, death and destruction in such a lyrical manner, as it fits my overall stressed mood, as I struggle to get testing completed on projects slated for release the first week of May.
The stress is taking its toll on my physically. I'm waking up every day feeling slightly nauseated** and eating seems to intensify the feeling for short periods of time. The last time I felt like this was near the end of my first year of college. My doctor put me on a short course of medicine and the semester ended.
But I can't get in to see my doctor until the end of May (that American healthcare system, the greatest in the world, don't you know), so I'm dealing by thrice weekly visits to the gym, increased workouts on the elliptical machine and as many pull ups and dips as my shoulders can tolerate. I may feel sick, but by the end of May the media will be shaming me over my biceps and triceps.
This is compounded by the fact that I must occasionally work with an individual who is difficult. Who has authority over me. Who does not communicate expectations and chastises me when I fail (naturally) to fulfill those unspoken, unknown, (occasionally) unreasonable expectations.
A bully. And I don't react well to bullies. My emotions overcome my intellect when I have to deal with any person with a bullying personality. I don't handle them well at all.
I came home Friday afternoon demoralized. Upset. Agitated. And bemused that a sixty second phone conversation could upset me so badly. J looked at me and gently suggested that I might want to consider looking for a different job, Acknowledging that as much as I really enjoy what I do (and I do), and like my coworkers, none of that is worth it to get so completely wound over a single individual.
But I don't feel as if I can look this time. I feel as if I need to face this is a challenge, learn how to deal with this individual's type of personality.
I'm at a loss as to where to begin.
*I also found a recording of Blues Traveler performing a cover of Superstition with Lenny Kravitz and Rusted Root at the Shoreline Amphitheatre in 1996. Only significant in that I was at that concert and that song remains clear in my memory thirteen years later.
**Most definitely NOT knocked up, in the family way or pregnant.
***Intentional, necessary misuse of grammar.
I find a certain comfort in listening to someone sing about drugs, death and destruction in such a lyrical manner, as it fits my overall stressed mood, as I struggle to get testing completed on projects slated for release the first week of May.
The stress is taking its toll on my physically. I'm waking up every day feeling slightly nauseated** and eating seems to intensify the feeling for short periods of time. The last time I felt like this was near the end of my first year of college. My doctor put me on a short course of medicine and the semester ended.
But I can't get in to see my doctor until the end of May (that American healthcare system, the greatest in the world, don't you know), so I'm dealing by thrice weekly visits to the gym, increased workouts on the elliptical machine and as many pull ups and dips as my shoulders can tolerate. I may feel sick, but by the end of May the media will be shaming me over my biceps and triceps.
This is compounded by the fact that I must occasionally work with an individual who is difficult. Who has authority over me. Who does not communicate expectations and chastises me when I fail (naturally) to fulfill those unspoken, unknown, (occasionally) unreasonable expectations.
A bully. And I don't react well to bullies. My emotions overcome my intellect when I have to deal with any person with a bullying personality. I don't handle them well at all.
I came home Friday afternoon demoralized. Upset. Agitated. And bemused that a sixty second phone conversation could upset me so badly. J looked at me and gently suggested that I might want to consider looking for a different job, Acknowledging that as much as I really enjoy what I do (and I do), and like my coworkers, none of that is worth it to get so completely wound over a single individual.
But I don't feel as if I can look this time. I feel as if I need to face this is a challenge, learn how to deal with this individual's type of personality.
I'm at a loss as to where to begin.
*I also found a recording of Blues Traveler performing a cover of Superstition with Lenny Kravitz and Rusted Root at the Shoreline Amphitheatre in 1996. Only significant in that I was at that concert and that song remains clear in my memory thirteen years later.
**Most definitely NOT knocked up, in the family way or pregnant.
***Intentional, necessary misuse of grammar.
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