the intern and his company

There was once a young developing professional who was recently brought onto a team at a company that had numerous campuses across the nation. He was given an intern to develop and a mentor to assist in his own professional development.

One day the intern observed the young professional in a disturbing altercation with a customer. The customer was swearing and yelling and using all manner of foul language. It appeared as though he had mistaken the professional for someone else. “You are a fraud! You are a fake!” he cried. “I won’t let you deceive me again.” The professional said nothing as he stood in front of the enraged customer. He shook his head sadly as the customer huffed and puffed away.

Later the intern asked. “Why did you not explain yourself to the customer? Why did you not defend the company’s reputation?”

“Well,” said the young professional, “The customer was not ready to hear a defense. We will encounter him again another time. It is certain that another representative will happen along his path soon.”

Soon thereafter the intern went on a vacation to another nation. While he was there he observed the fraudulent practices of his company, quite by accident. He was also enraged. When he returned from vacation, he violently confronted the young professional he had been interning for. “This company is fraudulent!” he cried. “I will certainly quit this very instant.”

“No!” cried the professional, as he chased after his intern and sought to stop him. “Stop!” He ordered. “You may not be belligerent with me and you cannot accuse the company of malpractice,” he urged, “it will be to your own undoing.”

Why do you treat me differently than you treated the customer who accosted you?” the intern responded indignantly. “You give me orders and you tell me I am wrong.”

“Because you are an intern and he was a customer,” responded the professional. “There are lots of frauds and fakes out there but those who are hired on with the company give the company its name.”

blog tagging

I got blog tagged. And I think I’ll refer my readers to the following category of blogs I make a habit of reading. I read other, more academic blogs. I’ll refer to them another time. But what I most want to do is pick out particular posts in the top two blogs I read for fun and rememory. I enjoy these blogs because they help me stick to my guns and find legitimacy in my own heritage’s stream of normalcy and ingenuity. I read them because they help this bean plant amongst marigolds, remember that a bean plant amongst marigolds is at the very least—much more interesting than a hill of beans or a field of marigolds.

The first is a girl I’ve never met. She’s got some real gems in her blog. I like best her photo sequences that emerge like a snippet of a graphic novel. Recently, I enjoyed the “working/fighting together” post, found here.

It reminds me of a core relational element of my formative years, which runs missing from my life now because it generally doesn’t translate and freaks people out when I try to describe it. (So, Guy, this one’s for you: domestic abuse, violence, sibling rivalry as can be evidenced by the smiles and looks of impish glee. I think you can use these as evidence when you press charges.) It reminds me of the times my brothers and I would get into wrestling, hog piles while Dad was milking and we were supposed to be doing our chores. The stopping of the milking pump would bring us all back to the reality that the fun was over and there was a job to be done before Dad would come around and find out we were dilly-dallying at the chores.

Amish-Mennonites are often characterized as stoic and reserved. Ever heard of Heisenberg’s principle? Maybe it’s just that the English are watching. I’ve found it to be quite the opposite. Sitting at the dinner table is usually like the snippet found here: “Moments around our table”

Yes, indeed! Upstairs the Peasants are Revolting. That is the title of the Dorcus Smucker’s new book on family life in the farmhouse. In this week's posts she expounds on the family she married into and demonstrates a witty creativity in song and verse.

Here she talks about the social interaction of 100s of youth that get together periodically to socialize and well, float their chances for family formation. I remember those days well. Can I get a ventured guess as to what category I fit into.

And then there’s a little secret I’ll let you all in on. You know, that forge-your-own-path, confident woman you see wearing a bonnet around the Seminary. Well, there’s a chunk of “Dorcas enchanted” under all that.

This post describes very much the gullible, sheep-like trait that I habitually fall into but try so hard to resist and hide. Because, well, if the English find out--they might just take you to the cleaners and back. I think it’s kind-of a Mennonite woman thing. I haven’t figured it out entirely yet. Sometimes it comes to me in a sudden realization as I sit across the lunch table from someone who has become my friend and I look at her and wonder, “How did that happen?” Not that I don’t like her—I do, very much—there are few people I don’t like. In fact, sometimes I imagine what it would be like to have known and befriended Hitler. And generally most people have a bit further to go to get to that level.

I also like her candid evaluation of stupid things people say or do--like here.

the parable of the harvester

The harvest she worked for was hard earned. She rose with the sun and retired with the stars. Life as a harvester was hard. Sundays were the only reprieve from hard manual labor. June brought strawberries. July brought string beans and peas. In August the corn ripened and needed to be put away. The sun greeted her unwilling eyes after cleaning strawberries till well after midnight. Yet the harvest awaited, ripening in the fields. Another day of picking till the sun went down. Another evening of cleaning and preserving the harvest, till she fell asleep in her chair.

Yet all the work turned into reward throughout the year. Every meal brought with it the taste of amazingly fresh sweet corn or green string beans, peas, carrots and strawberries. With it came the memory and appreciation of the intensive labor behind all that “home grown” represented.

Worlds collide with he who comes to offer his dimes and quarters. He who knows no toil, nor aching back. It’s free, it’s free, he cries with glee. The food is free and it’s fresh out of the field: one only pays at eh supermarket. He stuffs his obesity, delights in the taste for only a moment and discards the remains. But he is the saddest of all creatures, for he has eaten and cannot be filled. He eats and is not satisfied. He tries to buy his sustenance, gets it for free but is yet not full enough. His obesity flaunts his dilemma shamefully. He fills himself off the sweat of the poor. He is by all counts the most miserable of creatures.

But the laborer, she has her reward. The satisfaction of her labor is enough.

keeping things on the up-n-up

A few years ago I began to realize that there were ways in which I could present myself so as to sway others into taking me seriously or not. What I wore was quite important. I realized how important it was when a church deacon commented to me one day, “You look like a little girl.” When I went to shop for clothes, I was torn between the women’s section and the junior girls’ section. I wanted something in between. After a number of incidents of being mistaken for someone 10 years younger, I figured out what to wear that could change that.

Secondly, I had to behave differently as well. I remember once going to a community meeting with a friend who was a bit younger than I. We were sitting at a table together, with an official looking man. I became incredibly self-conscious, when she couldn’t keep her fit of giggles under control. The man didn’t look impressed, nor did he look like he was about to take us seriously. I learned that under no circumstances was I to allow myself to make silly jokes or banter about with all the middle aged folks in a meeting, even though they were shamelessly silly. Silliness from me indicated immaturity even while silliness from them was okay.

So with the last 2 posts, I doom myself forever to blogosphere’s unintelligent, immature, silliness categories.

This one is for all the English who can't remember to call it a covering. I'm not offended. I'm cool with bonnet. It's just all about context, as you know.

This one is for the Mennonites and Amish.
My apologies for Rosie's hemd von mann. Sie war um hart schafe. Die Rosie ist bistle veltlich gah.
And I couldn't persuade her to tone down her make-up and quit tweezing her eyebrows.



Translation:
hemd von mann--man's shirt
Sie war um hart schafe--She was working hard. (Many things can often be excused if there is a practical reason for it or if it was necessary on the account of hard work.)
Die Rosie ist bistle veltlich gah.--Rosie went a little worldy.

help me wash my window

Since I have all these Mennonite mom types checking out my site, thanks to Dorcas. I thought I would give a little spring cleaning tip I learned while living in the hood. If you are like my mom, there is a spring window cleaning and a fall window cleaning. Because I was a student and a homeowner for the past 6 years, my windows didn’t get cleaned quite that often. However, this spring, it looks like the grit and the grime have won the war. So, I am contemplating a widow cleaning.

But instead of running to Wal-Mart or Target and grabbing that spray bottle of blue juice, I do it the Mennonite way. A splash of vinegar in the bottom of a big bucket and a tablespoon of ammonia, with a gallon or more of water will do the trick. Be sure to use cotton rags to wash and dry as it tends to be a better experience. One in the bucket. And one to dry. Yet the tip I am offering today is the newspaper trick, which I learned from my African-American neighbors. I saw whenever they went to wash windows, they would pull out the newspaper. It is the easy fix for an almost dry window pane, with a bit of streak and smudge on it. You just take crumpled newspaper and rub it vigorously and it comes out with the sparkle of new glass.

So, whenever I clean windows I remember my heritage, my family and my mom giving me the internal urge to clean at all. And then I remember how even though Mennonites are known for being the neat as a pin type, I can still stand to learn well from those around me. It reminds me to look, listen and be curious about others—eventually, becoming more like them in their strengths and bearing with them in their weaknesses.

Come now, help me wash my window, so that I can see more clearly. Then I will help you wash yours. The work goes so much faster when two labor together.

Operation Date My Roomate

My roommate has been threatening to hand out applications to young eligible men as the first step in a project called Operation Date My Roommate.

There could be some benefits to an ODMR done well.

1. The dating norms are so un-standard and there isn’t one common understanding of what is required to initiate this process toward life partner. In fact, calling dating a process toward life partner is even called to question. So, ODMR might actually be helpful in that it creates an established route for approach for suitors to come along on. Many people are bumbling idiots when it comes to romance and the opposite sex. The stress of the need to be creative and shiny in the moment when all is a bit jumbled in the head might be too much to ask for. In the tradition I come from, it all hangs on the moment when the girl gets a request to lunch or dinner. The bold ones ask in person, the shy ones ask over the phone or via a note. Everyone knows what it means. But in a context where norms are established by and different for every individual, nobody knows what’s what until there is a DTR or primal instinct takes over.

2. Mainstream culture erroneously believes that the self determining individual’s choice for mate is the sacred cow of love, romance and marriage. The Romeo and Juliet story of love forbidden by community, family and fate, is the holy grail we should all seek and if we are strong enough, we will forge a lasting love to be envied by all and against the will of all. This is a holy endeavor. This is a beautiful story sometimes. But if it is the only story…we become paupers. The beauty of Romeo and Juliet lies in the fact that two families laid aside their generational feuds. The said Romeos and Juliets of today create feuds and fissures in societies and churches. This is a false Romeo and Juliet. It is instead self-destructive individualism, not the heart of the Shakespearian story.

The truth of the matter is, when a couple is forming, it never occurs in a vacuum. His friends have a vested interest in who she is. Her parents care about who she dates. His mom bites her fingernails every time he mentions a girl he’s interested in. Her friends are jealous. His friends are envious. ODMR could create a space for everyone to express their feelings and concerns. The angst of all with a vested interest could be streamed into a positive trajectory. Truth be told, those feelings and concerns will be whispered through the grape vine, working like little parasites, feeding on the budding relationship till there is no life blood. If the community is going to contribute—and it will—it might be strategic to invite it to contribute towards a positive end.

3. ODMR could be the race/obstacle course of the century. There is a defined starting point. There are contestants. There is a finish line. There is a prize. There could be an entrance fee. May the best one win! The prize is more valuable if it is attained at great personal cost. And the contestant is well rewarded for his (or her) efforts.

I think I prefer this to a relationship where the story is—Um, **shrug** I dunno, it just happened, which usually just means, well, we were hanging out and then suddenly we were making out. Primal instinct takes over. The cowardly lion in our souls just became more cowardly.

Warning to the reader: Gentle reader, I request that you refrain from making any if-than calculations on what my personal standards are on dating based on this thought experiment. I’ve only dated one guy and he would be the only one who knows what my personal standards are. The only 3 principles I purport here are 1. If there is no process, one will either be created or the means to process will sink to the lowest common denominator. 2. Staunch individualism will always make you wrong, even in dating. 3. Demonstrating value toward the other works toward returns of high value.

parables revisited

I ran into some new parables by physics professors, who I know through vicarious association: Deborah and Loren Haarsma of Calvin College. Its refreshing to see parables from those who are required to think in theorems. It helps validate my point on how science has everything to do with theology. Purist science always seemed a bit narrow.

Check them out here.