April 7, 1982 is a day that has never left my memory. It was a cloudy spring day, a bit cool. I was in typing class, when several students burst into the classroom, yelling that a student, someone I considered a friend, had been shot. Our typing room overlooked the bike racks where all this reportedly happened, but our teacher, Mrs. Henderson, ordered us away from the window and then she pulled the shade. We began our lesson, wondering what had happened.
I had to leave for an orthodontics appointment that day, and when I went to sign out through the office as I was supposed to do, I saw another student, John, in the office crying and the secretaries were bent over him. When they noticed me, they yelled at me to get out. I quickly left the building and realized police and paramedics were next to the school. Soon, I heard the whoomp, whoomp of the Flight for Life helicopter as it made an emergency landing on Columbine Drive. At that moment, my mom showed up, and we talked about what was going on.
My friend, Scott, was shot and killed on school grounds by a boy named Jason. There was no reason for his death. He died because a kid had a gun. Who knows what Scott would have accomplished had he lived. I cannot imagine the pain his parents and brothers endured after his death. I wanted to go to his funeral but had a panic attack that day and had to stay home. It was the first of my experiences with shootings.
April 20, 1999 is another day I will never forget. I will never forget the sight of an administrator standing out front of my school, hurrying kids into the building from lunch. I will never forget how the day went from sunny to cloudy and the clouds lingered for days, it seemed, after the shootings at Columbine. I will not forget being on lockdown until nearly 3:00 or being threatened by a student who wanted to leave to head to Columbine. I will never forget the thwack thwack the Huey helicopters made as they flew over my school. To this day, the sound of those helicopters causes me a mild panic attack. Columbine was my alma mater; my high school. I had been in it a couple of months earlier and could picture the library and the cafeteria.
Last year, I went back to Columbine for an inservice, the first time I had been there since the shootings. I had a panic attack and couldn't stop crying the entire time I was there. In fact, anytime we are presented with Columbine footage or speakers at my school, I have panic attacks and have to leave.
I remember standing in my classroom the day Platte Canyon happened, shocked something so horrific could happen again and so close to home. September, 2006. I had to reassure my students that we were safe at my school, but I wondered how safe we really were. The Platte Canyon hostage situation and ultimately the shootings haunt me today, especially because we have had strangers wandering around our school, acting suspiciously. Strangers I've had to confront. It's frightening.
The day a gunman began shooting outside Deer Creek Middle School, in February of 2010, I had a panic attack. A counselor came to my classroom to check on me and make sure I could be in front of kids. I could not believe it...again! Again someone was committing a horrific act of violence at a school I once attended and one so close to where I work.
After hearing about the shootings at the Aurora theater, the oppressive feeling that nothing is sacred comes back to me. Shootings at schools, shootings in churches, restaurants, college classrooms, and now theaters. I simply want to fold my husband and son up, keeping us locked in our house for safety. Some claim that more guns, concealed with permit guns, is the answer. Others claim that banning guns from society is the answer.
I've come to the conclusion that guns really aren't the problem; people are the problem. I'm not in favor of guns, but I don't see how banning them works. I think we should spend our time and money providing better mental health care. Obviously, the shooters at Deer Creek, Columbine, Platte Canyon, and now Aurora were mentally ill. How do they slip through the cracks? Are we, as a society, doing enough to help those who turn to violence and suicide as their way of coping with whatever is going on in their heads?
All I know is this, my fear is real; shootings have happened around me for a number of years. I fear a shooting. But I can't live my life in fear, and I cannot allow my son to do so either. So I will continue to go to work, continue to visit restaurants, and continue to attend movies. I will not succumb to my fear.
Sunday, July 22, 2012
Friday, July 20, 2012
Anger and violence
Our culture is an angry and violent one. Why? What is wrong within our society that entitles others to commit acts of violence? Why is our culture so angry? It isn't as though anger and violence is new to our society; maybe it's the proliferation of media broadcasts that makes it 'in our faces' each time it happens.
In eighth grade, a friend of mine was shot and killed at Deer Creek Junior High. It was a senseless act; a boy with a gun pointing at another boy, and then pulling the trigger, shooting him. I didn't understand why my friend had to die or why the other boy shot him.
Over the past 30 years, mass shootings have occurred around the world. These particular shootings didn't occur during war; they have occurred in malls, restaurants, schools, camps, post offices, workplaces, and theatres. Innocent lives are senselessly taken by someone with an agenda. The most frequent targets, at least in my opinion, seem to be children. Again, why? Because they are innocent? I struggle to make sense of these random acts of violence.
It stems, I think, from some deeply rooted anger, and it seeps into our daily lives. How many drivers suffer from the indignity of the "bird"? Many seem to take their aggression with them into their vehicles and tailgate or commit acts of road rage: cutting off other drivers, driving too fast for road conditions, slamming on brakes. Why the anger? Yes, people make mistakes, but do those mistakes warrant the violence demonstrated on our roads?
We are angry at the grocery store when lines move too slowly; we grow angry quickly with clerks in stores who don't help us quickly enough or who don't know the answers to our questions. We are impatient and angry with people who aren't walking fast enough, so we have to huff and puff our way around them, letting them know they inconvenienced us.
Does it seem like we've lost the ability to deal with others positively? It seems so to me. We don't know how to handle conflict, so we escalate it to violent levels. Violence, it appears, is the answer to all our problems. Don't like how someone looks at you? Call them a name and flip them off. Someone cuts you off in traffic? Pull out a gun and point it at them.
We watch cartoons, movies, and television shows filled with violence. We play video games filled with violence. We read comics filled with violence. Some of the most popular authors are authors who use violence in their books. We are a violent culture.
Now, what are we doing to do about it?
In eighth grade, a friend of mine was shot and killed at Deer Creek Junior High. It was a senseless act; a boy with a gun pointing at another boy, and then pulling the trigger, shooting him. I didn't understand why my friend had to die or why the other boy shot him.
Over the past 30 years, mass shootings have occurred around the world. These particular shootings didn't occur during war; they have occurred in malls, restaurants, schools, camps, post offices, workplaces, and theatres. Innocent lives are senselessly taken by someone with an agenda. The most frequent targets, at least in my opinion, seem to be children. Again, why? Because they are innocent? I struggle to make sense of these random acts of violence.
It stems, I think, from some deeply rooted anger, and it seeps into our daily lives. How many drivers suffer from the indignity of the "bird"? Many seem to take their aggression with them into their vehicles and tailgate or commit acts of road rage: cutting off other drivers, driving too fast for road conditions, slamming on brakes. Why the anger? Yes, people make mistakes, but do those mistakes warrant the violence demonstrated on our roads?
We are angry at the grocery store when lines move too slowly; we grow angry quickly with clerks in stores who don't help us quickly enough or who don't know the answers to our questions. We are impatient and angry with people who aren't walking fast enough, so we have to huff and puff our way around them, letting them know they inconvenienced us.
Does it seem like we've lost the ability to deal with others positively? It seems so to me. We don't know how to handle conflict, so we escalate it to violent levels. Violence, it appears, is the answer to all our problems. Don't like how someone looks at you? Call them a name and flip them off. Someone cuts you off in traffic? Pull out a gun and point it at them.
We watch cartoons, movies, and television shows filled with violence. We play video games filled with violence. We read comics filled with violence. Some of the most popular authors are authors who use violence in their books. We are a violent culture.
Now, what are we doing to do about it?
Thursday, July 19, 2012
Gavyn
Three weeks ago, an unthinkable type of accident occurred. Gavyn and his mom were driving, when Gavyn undid his five-point harnass on his car seat. He was climbing out of his seat as his mom turned quickly around to see what he was doing. In that instant, she hit a bus.
Both were transported to two of our best hospitals and have received excellent care. Unfortunately, Gavyn's injuries are pretty severe. He has a gap between C6 and C7 on his spine. There's another injury to his medulla, which most likely means he won't be able to breathe on his own. His head is encased in an halo, preventing him from moving. He has undergone two surgeries so far, one to try to reduce the gap between C6 and C7, and one to fuse them together. His mom's external injuries were also bad. A broken collarbone, bruised ribs, liver, and lungs. Cuts. Internally, though, I'm sure her injuries are far more severe.
People immediately assumed carelessness, drugs, alcohol, and irresponsibility were the causes of this accident. Nothing can be further from the truth. Gavyn's mom is a good mom, loving, kind, attentive. In fact, how many moms have quickly taken their attention from their driving to attend to a child? I have personally done it numerous times.
This horrific accident reminds me to pay more attention to my son because life can change instantaneously. I hug him more, which is hard to do to a ten year old, and tell him frequently that I love him. Gavyn's story is a reminder to all parents about the fragility of human life. Our children are precious to us, as Gavyn is to his parents, and we only want what is best for them.
Gavyn-of the beautiful eyes and smile-lays in a hospital bed, his parents by his side, hooked to machines. He, and his parents, give us hope and remind us what our true purposes are as parents: to love our children and do what we think is best for them.
Both were transported to two of our best hospitals and have received excellent care. Unfortunately, Gavyn's injuries are pretty severe. He has a gap between C6 and C7 on his spine. There's another injury to his medulla, which most likely means he won't be able to breathe on his own. His head is encased in an halo, preventing him from moving. He has undergone two surgeries so far, one to try to reduce the gap between C6 and C7, and one to fuse them together. His mom's external injuries were also bad. A broken collarbone, bruised ribs, liver, and lungs. Cuts. Internally, though, I'm sure her injuries are far more severe.
People immediately assumed carelessness, drugs, alcohol, and irresponsibility were the causes of this accident. Nothing can be further from the truth. Gavyn's mom is a good mom, loving, kind, attentive. In fact, how many moms have quickly taken their attention from their driving to attend to a child? I have personally done it numerous times.
This horrific accident reminds me to pay more attention to my son because life can change instantaneously. I hug him more, which is hard to do to a ten year old, and tell him frequently that I love him. Gavyn's story is a reminder to all parents about the fragility of human life. Our children are precious to us, as Gavyn is to his parents, and we only want what is best for them.
Gavyn-of the beautiful eyes and smile-lays in a hospital bed, his parents by his side, hooked to machines. He, and his parents, give us hope and remind us what our true purposes are as parents: to love our children and do what we think is best for them.
Tuesday, July 17, 2012
Pssst! The president is responsible for the drought!
It's election year as everyone knows, and it's time once again for our favorite mud-slinging, reputation slashing television commercials. Most of the commercials we are currently viewing are sponsored by Political Action Corporations, groups I've never personally heard of. I guess I could take the time to find out more about them, but their fear-mongering reputations are off-putting for me. The best part about these PACs is their ability to distort the truth until no one really knows what to believe. And while the internet is a great resource, who wants to tear themselves away from the latest news of TomKat and Suri, the Kardashians, or even the Sly Stallone tragedy to do any type of research? Naturally, there are the YouTube videos to watch, especially the "People of Walmart" videos. Research takes time and it's boring! I'd rather watch Sasha the talking dog than find out more about what each candidate believes.
Of course, it's hard to know what each candidate believes. Each is trying to win an election, and each is prepared to say and do whatever it takes to "lead" this country. One candidate supposedly cost people jobs; the other is supposedly not really a US citizen. Repeal Obamacare! Support gay marriage! Attack! Attack! Attack! Since the current president is solely responsible for the state of the economy, nevermind a pointless and expensive war, the natural movement of a bull and bear market, the housing bubble, or problems in Europe, I'm waiting for more problems to be ascribed to him, like the drought across much of the United States. I'm sure he's at fault for that as well. I mean, really, the weather was much better under the previous president, and I'm certain had McCain been elected, it would have continued to improve!
The hate-mongering that occurs during this time is foul. It's hard to escape it as well as social media, like Facebook, the internet, and television are riddled with people expressing their opinions, trying to persuade others to vote for a particular candidate. Isn't it important to listen to a variety of channels to try to determine the most accurate information? If Americans only listen to a certain opinion, how can they make informed decisions?
The media is incredibly powerful for politicians, and they definitely use it to their advantage. Isn't it up to us to determine our opinions? Shouldn't we do a little research instead of, like lemmings, follow a particular vein of thought?
I'm holding out hope for someone to determine that the current president is to blame for the drought across much of the United States. I'm sure there's a PAC somewhere that wants to make that connection!
Of course, it's hard to know what each candidate believes. Each is trying to win an election, and each is prepared to say and do whatever it takes to "lead" this country. One candidate supposedly cost people jobs; the other is supposedly not really a US citizen. Repeal Obamacare! Support gay marriage! Attack! Attack! Attack! Since the current president is solely responsible for the state of the economy, nevermind a pointless and expensive war, the natural movement of a bull and bear market, the housing bubble, or problems in Europe, I'm waiting for more problems to be ascribed to him, like the drought across much of the United States. I'm sure he's at fault for that as well. I mean, really, the weather was much better under the previous president, and I'm certain had McCain been elected, it would have continued to improve!
The hate-mongering that occurs during this time is foul. It's hard to escape it as well as social media, like Facebook, the internet, and television are riddled with people expressing their opinions, trying to persuade others to vote for a particular candidate. Isn't it important to listen to a variety of channels to try to determine the most accurate information? If Americans only listen to a certain opinion, how can they make informed decisions?
The media is incredibly powerful for politicians, and they definitely use it to their advantage. Isn't it up to us to determine our opinions? Shouldn't we do a little research instead of, like lemmings, follow a particular vein of thought?
I'm holding out hope for someone to determine that the current president is to blame for the drought across much of the United States. I'm sure there's a PAC somewhere that wants to make that connection!
Monday, July 16, 2012
Traveling with my son
Kansas. Usually when this state is mentioned, people roll their eyes and talk about how "flat" it is or how "boring" it is. I like Kansas, though. Yes, it's flat...in parts. Yes, some might find parts of it "boring," but I like it. Kansas is rich in American history, and the folks living there are friendly and kind. Moreover, those who farm managed, for the most part, to eke out a living from pretty unforgiving conditions. Bad soil, no water, heat, bugs, hail, tornadoes...all make life difficult in the western and southwestern part of the state.
My son and I just returned from southwestern Kansas after visiting a friend of mine and her family. I wanted my son to see a different part of the country and a lifestyle unfamiliar to ours. I also wanted some one-on-one time with him as we haven't seen much of one another over the past couple of weeks. What better way to spend time with one another than a seven hour car trip?
We decided to bypass downtown Denver and the I-70 exchange by driving through Castle Rock and heading east to I-70 that way. I hadn't been much past Castle Rock, so it was interesting to see the land change from pine trees to open spaces, dotted with small ranchettes. We passed through towns we've only hear about, and finally, I-70 loomed in front of us. Our adventure had begun!
With quick stops in Limon and Burlington, we saw truck stops and small communities. Towns like Burlington have history we don't often appreciate; they were towns early settlers founded as they moved west across the prairie. I cannot imagine the difficulty of their existence, and therefore I have great respect for towns that have existed for so long and under such tough conditions.
The land changed constantly as we moved from Colby, Kansas to Garden City, Kansas. Homes were sparce, trees much more so. Fields of green and gold filled our eyes. The contrast was stark and lovely at the same time. The sky opened up, and we saw variations of blue and white as puffy, cottony clouds floated through it. I enjoyed watching the topography change as we traveled further into southwestern Kansas. My son seemed equally impressed with the vastness of the land before us and around us.
My friend lives in a small town, founded over 100 years ago. It's surrounded my fields of wheat, milo, soybeans, and corn, and the trains still come through regularly. My son was able to see a thin slice of small-town life and learn about the values in a different part of the country. For example, it's hard to simply run to the grocery store when necessary. It's a 44 mile round trip excursion. Each time we drove up and down Main Street, people waved at us. One's church is important and central to one's social life.
We visited a local state park, a dairy, a couple of other towns and cities, and each time, the land was different. That's what fascinates me about Kansas. It can be flat in one area and a valley with amazing sandstone rocks over the hill. Certain areas, like the state park, sported a number of trees, while other areas, like the dairy, were completely barren of trees.
At the dairy, we were able to see how cows are milked and cared for, plus we had the amazing experience of watching a calf be born. We drove out to a field and picked potatoes, which we ate a couple of times during our visit. My son was able to ride a horse, an experience that left him glowing with happiness. We also visited a barn where some kittens lived. Our vehicle had a cropduster fly above us, and we could feel the vibrations from the airplane as it did so.
Traveling to Kansas was a lovely experience, both for my son and myself. We learned a bit of history in Dodge City, went to a farm show, saw where the Dalton gang's hideout was, and spent time learning more about a lifestyle completely alien to ours. Kansas isn't flat and boring; it's filled with hills, valleys, streams (though plenty, sadly, are dry), history, and lovely people. While I haven't traveled all over the state, I have been from the western side to the eastern side, and I enjoy it each time I'm there. My son had such a good time, he wants to go back again this summer. Kansas fueled his desire to farm, and our road trip fostered his interest in more road trips.
I couldn't have asked for a better experience.
My son and I just returned from southwestern Kansas after visiting a friend of mine and her family. I wanted my son to see a different part of the country and a lifestyle unfamiliar to ours. I also wanted some one-on-one time with him as we haven't seen much of one another over the past couple of weeks. What better way to spend time with one another than a seven hour car trip?
We decided to bypass downtown Denver and the I-70 exchange by driving through Castle Rock and heading east to I-70 that way. I hadn't been much past Castle Rock, so it was interesting to see the land change from pine trees to open spaces, dotted with small ranchettes. We passed through towns we've only hear about, and finally, I-70 loomed in front of us. Our adventure had begun!
With quick stops in Limon and Burlington, we saw truck stops and small communities. Towns like Burlington have history we don't often appreciate; they were towns early settlers founded as they moved west across the prairie. I cannot imagine the difficulty of their existence, and therefore I have great respect for towns that have existed for so long and under such tough conditions.
The land changed constantly as we moved from Colby, Kansas to Garden City, Kansas. Homes were sparce, trees much more so. Fields of green and gold filled our eyes. The contrast was stark and lovely at the same time. The sky opened up, and we saw variations of blue and white as puffy, cottony clouds floated through it. I enjoyed watching the topography change as we traveled further into southwestern Kansas. My son seemed equally impressed with the vastness of the land before us and around us.
My friend lives in a small town, founded over 100 years ago. It's surrounded my fields of wheat, milo, soybeans, and corn, and the trains still come through regularly. My son was able to see a thin slice of small-town life and learn about the values in a different part of the country. For example, it's hard to simply run to the grocery store when necessary. It's a 44 mile round trip excursion. Each time we drove up and down Main Street, people waved at us. One's church is important and central to one's social life.
We visited a local state park, a dairy, a couple of other towns and cities, and each time, the land was different. That's what fascinates me about Kansas. It can be flat in one area and a valley with amazing sandstone rocks over the hill. Certain areas, like the state park, sported a number of trees, while other areas, like the dairy, were completely barren of trees.
At the dairy, we were able to see how cows are milked and cared for, plus we had the amazing experience of watching a calf be born. We drove out to a field and picked potatoes, which we ate a couple of times during our visit. My son was able to ride a horse, an experience that left him glowing with happiness. We also visited a barn where some kittens lived. Our vehicle had a cropduster fly above us, and we could feel the vibrations from the airplane as it did so.
Traveling to Kansas was a lovely experience, both for my son and myself. We learned a bit of history in Dodge City, went to a farm show, saw where the Dalton gang's hideout was, and spent time learning more about a lifestyle completely alien to ours. Kansas isn't flat and boring; it's filled with hills, valleys, streams (though plenty, sadly, are dry), history, and lovely people. While I haven't traveled all over the state, I have been from the western side to the eastern side, and I enjoy it each time I'm there. My son had such a good time, he wants to go back again this summer. Kansas fueled his desire to farm, and our road trip fostered his interest in more road trips.
I couldn't have asked for a better experience.
Friday, July 6, 2012
Attitude is everything
Going to Montezuma, New Mexico is not a favorite trip of mine. It can turn into a six hour drive. They serve the same food on the same days each year. People go nuts and behave abominably. The bathrooms. Limited means of cooling off, and it's always hot.
It was with dread I began my journey on Monday to New Mexico. I knew I needed the class to have a better idea of what I'll be doing in the fall, but I really wanted to stay home, sleeping in my own bed, using my own shower, and hanging out with my family. I am shy, and as a shy person, I find situations where I know no one uncomfortable. However, as I arrived at the castle, I decided that I needed to change my attitude.
I'm so glad I did! Yes, the bathrooms were disgusting and people were noisy. But I met three wonderful women. My roommate, Barb, was from Chicago, and we had so much in common. I had a great time talking with her, staying up late laughing, and bonding over mutual interests and experiences. I hope we keep in touch beyond this week. I never feel comfortable with strangers and with sleeping in a strange person with someone I don't know, but that wasn't the case with Barb.
I also met LaTina from Tampa and Lacey from New Orleans. We had virtually every meal together, and I honestly have not laughed so much in a long time. Maybe because we were all in the same proverbial boat, fish out of water, or because of luck, or because of a greater purpose, we found one another and enjoyed one another's company. I never felt judged or criticized by these three amazing women. They simply accepted me for me, which made it easy for me to let my guard down and to let them in more than I usually do.
My class was fabulous too. The instructor presented the material in a way that made me feel comfortable and excited to teach a new class. She is a Deputy Chief Examiner, which helped because she speaks with authority. Yet, I felt comfortable asking questions of her, which hasn't happened all the years I've gone to IB school. I usually feel like a moron who has no business being there, but not this time. This time I felt excited to attend each session, to find out more about this enticing new class.
Believe it or not, I felt a bit sad when the week was over. I enjoyed the women, my partner and another colleague, and my class. I'm glad I adjusted my attitude. It made all the difference this week.
It was with dread I began my journey on Monday to New Mexico. I knew I needed the class to have a better idea of what I'll be doing in the fall, but I really wanted to stay home, sleeping in my own bed, using my own shower, and hanging out with my family. I am shy, and as a shy person, I find situations where I know no one uncomfortable. However, as I arrived at the castle, I decided that I needed to change my attitude.
I'm so glad I did! Yes, the bathrooms were disgusting and people were noisy. But I met three wonderful women. My roommate, Barb, was from Chicago, and we had so much in common. I had a great time talking with her, staying up late laughing, and bonding over mutual interests and experiences. I hope we keep in touch beyond this week. I never feel comfortable with strangers and with sleeping in a strange person with someone I don't know, but that wasn't the case with Barb.
I also met LaTina from Tampa and Lacey from New Orleans. We had virtually every meal together, and I honestly have not laughed so much in a long time. Maybe because we were all in the same proverbial boat, fish out of water, or because of luck, or because of a greater purpose, we found one another and enjoyed one another's company. I never felt judged or criticized by these three amazing women. They simply accepted me for me, which made it easy for me to let my guard down and to let them in more than I usually do.
My class was fabulous too. The instructor presented the material in a way that made me feel comfortable and excited to teach a new class. She is a Deputy Chief Examiner, which helped because she speaks with authority. Yet, I felt comfortable asking questions of her, which hasn't happened all the years I've gone to IB school. I usually feel like a moron who has no business being there, but not this time. This time I felt excited to attend each session, to find out more about this enticing new class.
Believe it or not, I felt a bit sad when the week was over. I enjoyed the women, my partner and another colleague, and my class. I'm glad I adjusted my attitude. It made all the difference this week.
Thursday, July 5, 2012
Manners and hygiene
So here I am, at a conference, staying in a dormitory. I'm in the mountains, where conditions can be a bit primitive. I've never lived with anyone other than my husband and family, and I've never had to share bathrooms with strangers for an extended period of time. However, after a third time at this conference and staying in a dorm, I've learned a few things.
People are disgusting, women especially. Our bathroom is foul, abosolutely foul. Hair all over, especially in the showers, filthy shower curtains, poor drainage system (especially with all the hair), soap left in the showers. It's nasty. Filthy sinks, filthy counters, filthy floors. Someone threw up the other day, and the entire bathroom reeked of it for hours. And here's an image: standing in the shower, with another's person's dirty water running over your feet. Uh huh. That happens. Nasty!
I went to use a shower the other day, and someone left a large clump of long black hair in the shower; she also left long black hairs on the wall, the soap she left on the floor, and even on the small shelf we have for our personal things. I was disgusted. I couldn't even go in there.
I don't understand what's wrong with people. Who considers it acceptable to shed a small animal in the shower and leave for someone else? Seriously?! How hard is it to pick up your soap remnants and throw them away? Wipe a counter? Clean up your hair or toothpaste dribbles in the sink? We are not staying in 5 star accomodations.
Another perplexing issue is the lack of consideration for others. The first night here, the two women next door talked loudly until one a.m. Did they not realize the rest of us were trying to sleep? I mean, the sun was down, the moon was up, what did they think the rest of us were doing? They also like to slam their door. They go to the bathroom, slam. They come back, slam. It's driving me nuts.
Then there is the party group. These folks have stayed up until 1 or 2 in the morning each night we've been here, drinking, whooping, and hollering. Their drunken voices echo across the quad and to the dorms. I'm glad I didn't go away to college to listen to drunk people scream at night. These are professionals; they have college degrees, they have important jobs, but they act like drunken college students. I guess being so far away from home gives them license to behave in unseemly ways.
The party group concludes around 2; the noisy women are up at 6. Most of us are averaging about four hours of sleep a night, which is not enough for what we need to accomplish over the course of the day. There is such a lack of manners and good hygiene surrounding me, and I hope this is the last conference of this sort I have to attend. Should I have to come back again, I will get a room elsewhere to have privacy, quiet, and my own bathroom.
People are nasty, regardless of professional accomplishments.
People are disgusting, women especially. Our bathroom is foul, abosolutely foul. Hair all over, especially in the showers, filthy shower curtains, poor drainage system (especially with all the hair), soap left in the showers. It's nasty. Filthy sinks, filthy counters, filthy floors. Someone threw up the other day, and the entire bathroom reeked of it for hours. And here's an image: standing in the shower, with another's person's dirty water running over your feet. Uh huh. That happens. Nasty!
I went to use a shower the other day, and someone left a large clump of long black hair in the shower; she also left long black hairs on the wall, the soap she left on the floor, and even on the small shelf we have for our personal things. I was disgusted. I couldn't even go in there.
I don't understand what's wrong with people. Who considers it acceptable to shed a small animal in the shower and leave for someone else? Seriously?! How hard is it to pick up your soap remnants and throw them away? Wipe a counter? Clean up your hair or toothpaste dribbles in the sink? We are not staying in 5 star accomodations.
Another perplexing issue is the lack of consideration for others. The first night here, the two women next door talked loudly until one a.m. Did they not realize the rest of us were trying to sleep? I mean, the sun was down, the moon was up, what did they think the rest of us were doing? They also like to slam their door. They go to the bathroom, slam. They come back, slam. It's driving me nuts.
Then there is the party group. These folks have stayed up until 1 or 2 in the morning each night we've been here, drinking, whooping, and hollering. Their drunken voices echo across the quad and to the dorms. I'm glad I didn't go away to college to listen to drunk people scream at night. These are professionals; they have college degrees, they have important jobs, but they act like drunken college students. I guess being so far away from home gives them license to behave in unseemly ways.
The party group concludes around 2; the noisy women are up at 6. Most of us are averaging about four hours of sleep a night, which is not enough for what we need to accomplish over the course of the day. There is such a lack of manners and good hygiene surrounding me, and I hope this is the last conference of this sort I have to attend. Should I have to come back again, I will get a room elsewhere to have privacy, quiet, and my own bathroom.
People are nasty, regardless of professional accomplishments.
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