Vacation

Vacations have always been an awakening for me. They are the thing that allows me to be adventurous. My vacation following the steps of Hannibal The Conqueror through Tunisia, Africa and Sicily, Italy did all of those things for me. I traveled alone to prove to myself that I can be adventurous and independent, though when on the plane, I felt scared witless at the thought of being alone in a foreign country. I am happy that I got through the feelings of being scared and went forth and had such a good time. I find also that my vacations always validate my notions that people are OK. When I arrived in these foreign countries, I've met up with the most glorious people.

I don't people watch when I am home in NY. Who has the time to do that; certainly I don't. I rush to get the kids ready and off to school, to get ready to go to work, to get to the train, to get as much work done during a 9 1/2 hour day, to clean the house, to do life. I would love to leisurely watch how people tick by watching them, clandestinely, perhaps by sitting on the steps of a plaza of an office building or on the stoop of a residential building, during the hours of their life when they are up and about. I can't do that when I am home as I am a part of that hustle and bustle that is NY. Sometimes in my travels throughout the city I catch people who are obviously tourists visiting NY looking at me and others who pass them, with respectful curiosity. This happens often when I and many others disembark from the train station in The Wall Street area of NYC. Many of us stream by, rushing to get to our ultimate destinations, some jobs, some The Staten Island Ferry, and we pass the out of towners who have lined up, triple deep in a line half a block long, to take the double decker buses to ride through The City on a Tour. And the feel of the curious eyes looking at you, sizing you up as you rush by, with a wondering element, some discreetly viewing you as you pass by, some just bodaciously staring. When this first happened to me, someone looking at me, who was standing in line, it was a little weird, and I had a NY moment internally. To paraphrase, and clean up the language, I said to myself "Why are these people looking at me and the others who are coming out of the train station like we're an exhibit in a museum." After several hundred times of this particular occurrence, I now often ignore the stares as I have been able to answer my internal question. Many disembark from the train literally running at break-neck speed so that they can reach the ferry for the next one is 30 minutes away. These running NY'ers are young and old people, women and men alike. Others get off the train with looks of pure dread as it is another work day. Some have pleasant looks. The others who are getting off the train and are not running for a ferry are often a close second in their pace as they are often rushing to arrive to work on time. I gather that to those who are waiting for a tour of NY and see the unbelievable amount of packs of people who come out of a small hole in the ground in intervals, scurrying in hundreds of directions, each pack bigger than the other, we are a curious bunch. I understand that these tourist see in each of the faces and the clothes and the actions connected to it a story. I often notice the respectfulness in their gaze. They see the construction worker, dirty from head to toe with dust, rushing to get to the ferry to get home, and right behind him a man in an Armani suit, clean as a whistle, on a cell phone, talking of a deal he's just left that resulted in millions of dollars for all involved. Each person getting off the train has their own way of dressing, their own body language, and their own way of presenting themselves to the world. Rich, poor, middle-class, and working poor people who were together moments before, packed like sardines, breathing in each others' breathes, and are now released from the subway and are scurrying to their destinations. And it is all so very interesting to watch.

When I arrived in Africa and Italy, I was able to do what those curious tourist of NY have done. I people watched as I had the time to do so. I wached discreetly and respectfully. I watched the ebb and flow of people in Tunisia, many poor, scurrying to work. Some walking long distances, some trying to hitchhike, many riding scooters long distances. The women elegantly riding scooters who managed though they had on head wraps and long flowing skirts, true to the religion they practice. I watched the people of Sicily, farmers and people in the metropolitan areas, hardworkers in the farm fields and in offices buildings. The farmers in dirty overalls and the metropolitan workers styling in fabulous fashions. All reminded me of the hustle and bustle of NY. All seem to have a common thread, and that is working and doing so with a dignity that is prevalent throughout the world. People who get up and go to work, some not happy, and that is evident from their stern countenances, but they go. I thought about the possible stories behind their faces. Are they content with their jobs? Are they content with their lives? I look at their dress and try to pinpoint how much they make in a week, in a year. Are they able to take vacations to far away lands? Will they ever come to NY to vacation? If they come to NY would it not just be for vacation, but to stay to forge a life, as many when hearing I'm from NY state they would like to live there. None in Tunisia speak of vacationing in NY. They speak of it as a place they wish to live as life in Tunisia is hard. Some in Sicily say the same thing.

I take from my people watching abroad and my limited conversations with some of these persons that all have it tough throughout the world. People watching allows you a window into people's worlds and they are no different than mine. To people watch in other countries is to gain perspective on peoples situations in a different context. The sights are different. The edifices and landscape are vastly different from America. I saw a lot of antiquities. Ancient temples that existed before Christ. I walked lands during my vacation that have been walked by people for thousands and thousands of years. But the people that are there now are people similar to me. They are carving out a life the best way they can. Most with dignity and respect. People are OK. My people watching abroard reinforced my theory.

Screamed On

On Friday, I had an appointment with an optometrist and was the first patient to arrive. When entering the office I encountered the optometrist who greeted me and said when his administrative staff arrived they would do my paperwork so that I may be seen by him, but until that time I should sit and wait as he was the first to arrive to the office. I did so gladly. After a few minutes another patient arrived. She sat and waited without comment to me. The doctor was no where to be found. The first administrative person for the doctor's office arrived shortly and proceeded to go behind the front desk. He looked me in the eye. The other patient went up to him, and started to tell him the reason for her being there, and they went into a discussion. After listening for 10 seconds, I asked all in the room if I were invisible, and the administrative assistant looked at me as I continued with telling him that the patient who was speaking to him was rude as she knew I was there before her, and he was equally if not more rude, to have not greeted us both, and then asked who was to be seen first. He apologized quickly, the rude woman did not, but stepped out of my way, and I proceeded to the front desk and had my paperwork done, and was seen by the optometrist. I reflected on the event as one that was abnormal and consisting of rude people.

I then got ready for my second shift job and arrived ready to work with a good attitude. By 11:20 PM I was being screamed at by a custodian in front of my staff. The incident was very upsetting.

My job is in The Wall Street area on NYC and it is open from 8:00 AM until 12:00 PM during the weekdays. My department's floors, the ones that aren't carpeted, were to be stripped and waxed, unbeknownst to those of us who work at night, during the night shift. There seemed to be no procedure for doing the floors as access to our lunch room and bathrooms was not allowed. Those of us who overlooked the staff were not informed that this process would happen and in addition, that access to the bathroom and lunch room would be denied for 4 hours. Management, I among them, tried to calm the staff who complained of being treat like sweat shop workers just a quarter mile away from the Statue of Liberty and the irony of such during this situation. We managed to calm them down, and talked to the custodial staff who we told had to have the floors back to a place that would allow our staff to walk upon without someone slipping between the times of 11:00 and 11:30 PM as we needed to have staff clock-out and use the facilities and then have them leave the building. We were greeted with a negative attitude from the custodial staff, but they were told they had no choice as it was unacceptable that we were not told before hand that things such as water and bathroom facilities would not be available for 4 hours, and that as such, they had to make these things available for a least some minutes as we were human beings deserving of respect. They grudgingly obliged verbally. Many of us in management felt we were allowing the custodial staff more latitude than they deserved, I among them, as they had not followed any procedures when buffing the floors that would have allowed a measure of dignity for the workers in them having, at least, minimal access to bathrooms and libation. But all in management tried to make the best of a terrible situation by not being argumentative with the custodial staff in front of the subordinates that we supervise.

11:00 PM arrived and many ran to the bathroom and lunch room for the much needed breaks. I, at 11:20 also took the opportunity to use the facilities and encountered a wet floor that had a gloss like substance on it. I gingerly took two steps on my heels and entered the bathroom. When I came out a custodian was standing in the only doorway by which I could use to get back to my desk, and he was screaming at the top of his lungs, "What did I say!!!! What did I say!!!" while clapping his hands on every syllable. I could not believe I was being spoken to in such a disrespectful manner. I blinked with rage while I stood in the doorway of the bathroom and was thinking to myself how I was going to get away from this guy who was standing in the only exit. A co-worker pushed him out of the way and stood in front of him and beckoned me to take her hand while I navigated the two steps across the slippery hallway. While we were doing that, the custodian continued to scream, while she and I passed him through the narrow doorway, in our ears, and he was joined by others in the custodian staff in screaming admonishments to me for stepping on a floor that we were told would be dry. I was internally counting to ten as I thought I would explode with rage at being addressed that way. I needed to get away from the initiator of the verbal attack as I thought I would attack him with my fists. By that time the two others of the management staff arrived and were verbalizing their amazement at the custodians' disregard for etiquette when dealing with people. The initiator and another custodian responded to the managers' statement with the question of who was in charge. They wanted to know who was the senior manager on the floor, to which everyone pointed to me. I then saw the fear in the custodians' eyes. It was an "Uh Oh" moment. I unleashed, in my most Kings English verbiage, that should I not receive an apology in the next 60 seconds I would be in their boss' office bright an early on Monday, and give him or her an earful as to the mistreatment I and my staff had received, in particular me, as I was screamed at for daring to use a bathroom that I had been denied access to for 4 hours. I got my apology several times. Certainly it was not heartfelt, but rather, given, out of fear.

Many times when I encounter people who think it is OK to be rude and disrespectful to me, it is a person that does not see me. I am invisible to them and as such can be treated disrespectful. I am invisible in that I am a person who, in their mind, cannot bring forth repercussions for their rudeness. If I am screamed at or ignored I will not do anything that will bring about any consequences. I am thought of as a powerless. I am a woman. I am African-American. And I am therefore thought of as powerless. I am not thought of as a person deserving of respect. I am not thought of as an African-American woman who should be respected because I am a human being. I, when subjected to episodes like the two I had on Friday, was reminded of the imbecilic thought process of some that I encounter in my everyday life. I try to fight this inconceivable notion that I am invisible, and it is always hard. Usually, when I speak to them and sprout the words that tell them I will not tolerate disrespect or they find out that I am in a management position on my job, they acquiesce and become respectful, but not because they see the error of their ways, but because they are fearful of the consequences I may bring to them.

It is not comforting that I get respect after such incidents because of fear, as the most desirable respect would come about because the person noted the error of their ways, re-focused, and began to act appropriately. But I will take the respect however I get it. I just hope the next time all concerned will deal with the next person respectfully because they are deserving of such. The respect will come forth because they are a person who rightfully derserves it. I am forever hopeful.

Foundation of Contentment

I take vacation once a year. I always try to go by myself to a far away place, enjoy the sights, and think of myself as an adventurer, so that I may come back to my world rejuvenated. I save all year and sometimes do so by cutting corners with the family finances. I, when my children were younger, would often give all that I had to my family. If something was needed for my children that might break the family budget, I would juggle with it, cut corners, and get whatever it was I thought they needed via my not getting things that I needed. Retrospectively often what I thought was direly needed for my children was not that important. But in order to do what I thought was the right thing, to sacrifice to get them whatever it was I thought they needed, I would sometimes skip getting my hair done, not buy shoes or clothes, etc. I did these things thinking that's what a mother does for her family. I was proud of it, but had lingering doubts about my actions. I thought that struggling was a distinction particular to mothers. I thought mothers do all that they can for their families to the detriment of themselves, but when I sacrificed that way for my family, I was uncomfortable with the dissatisfied feeling I was often left with inside.

When will the sacrificing end? When will the bills that require sacrifices cease to be insurmountable? Bills never stop coming, and sacrifices will always be a way of life for those with responsibilities. But how does one do these things, pay the bills and fulfill responsibilities, without feeling drained and subjugated? I realized that I must put myself first. I must take care of my needs, and not feel guilty about doing so, so that I may be satisfied with my lot in life, and then, from that foundation of satisfaction, diligently take care of my family and do so with sacrifices, if necessary. It was a hard life lesson to learn as I was always given the message through media and family members that having a family meant forfeiting many things that you normally buy and do for yourself for the good of your family. There was never a qualifier for that message of sacrifice. The message was never tempered with the caveat that one has to work this life from a foundation of happiness. If a caretaker is not happy with their life, how is it possible for them to do the things that make others close to them happy?

Trips on airplanes strengthens my resolve to look out for my happiness first and foremost. When taking my first airplane ride many years ago, I was impressed by the strategies of survival given to me and the other passengers on the plane by the stewardess on what one must do if the plane should decompress, particularly the strategy given to people traveling with children. If a person is with a child, they are instructed to place the oxygen mask that drops before them over their mouths securely, first, and then place the oxygen mask of the child they are with over that child's mouth, secondly. I have applied this strategy to my life fully. From this strategy I am resolved to be supportive of my interests so that I can be supportive to my family members and their interests. I am determined to pursue those interests that make me happy so that I will feel rewarded which will then allow me to be comfortable in seeking and supporting rewarding pursuits for my family members. One cannot give support to others if one cannot support themselves. If one cannot help themselves how can one help someone else? Can one make others happy if one is not happy?

So when I go on my next vacation, and I hear the instructions on the plane for caretakers to take care of themselves first so that they can then take care of their children, I will smile as I have applied this strategy of surviving the decompression of a plane as a strategy to survive life. Because I have adhered to this strategy of making sure I am happy, I will be going on vacation that I have whittled from my tight family budget, and I hope that I will return from my vacation content. I try to always remember to value my happiness with the hopes that in doing so I will be able to do the best for those closest to me because I am content. If I love myself, I can love others. If I am happy with my life, I will try to do things for those close to me that will make them happy. I can make sacrifices for my family because I will do so from a foundation of contentment. And because I am content, I will be at my best to try to do all the things that are good for my family. I will make sacrifices for them without resentment because I have made certain that I am happy and at peace with myself.