Worth nothing

Back in May, Grey and I made the decision to once again list our condo in Seattle for sale. Given that the first time had ended so poorly due to a borderline unethical move by our then management company with the resale certificate language (written to maximize profits for them and their partners on a pending massive maintenance project for the building while potentially bankrupting the association), we where feeling pretty hopeless about being able to sell. Still, our rental manager encouraged us to try, promoting a strategy of complete transparency to any perspective buyer prior to accepting any offers.

So we gave the go ahead with listing and held our breath. Two days later, right before the planned open house, we had an unexpectedly good offer. And though we spent the next month holding our breath, waiting for all of it to fall apart, closing was actually painless and we finalized the sale two days earlier than expected.

The evening the money from the sale was wired to us, Grey and I sat down with a bottle of whiskey and our laptops. Within 30 minutes, we both sat back and looked at one another in disbelief. After years of sliding deep into debt, first with the condo, then infertility and paying for treatments (and mental/emotion health support due to that trauma) out of pocket and finally shouldering more debt due to parenting twins, we found ourselves in a place we hadn't planned for for at least another 3-5 years.

We had paid off all our debts. We were worth nothing.

The past couple of months have been a bit surreal given this new reality. Though initially it may seem like nothing has changed, daily decisions have. Instead of stressing about moving debt around and making sure all bills are paid on time, we now only have a handful to be mindful of. Canceling credit cards has been a fun experience, with customer care seemingly baffled that I no longer want to keep open accounts that don't serve a purpose (to me at least). The idea that we can actually have a saving account, can focus on building retirement, put together college savings accounts for the Beats and (most shocking) actually be saving to purchase a house is still something I struggle to grasp. But most striking is the lightness I feel. That I know Grey feels. One truly never understands the burden they carry until suddenly the weight and pain are gone.

It's odd to be in this place of privilege. It's something I'm increasingly mindful of, not only given all we've been through but also knowing full well that the majority of this people in this country (and the world) are in a similar boat. We live in a world where resources are far from evenly distributed, with so many having to chose between essential needs like food, housing, medical care and even clothing, while far fewer flaunt their excess. And yet, we aren't allowed to really have conversations about this. Just beginning them usually results in people adamantly how actually they are the exceptions, actively fighting this notion that somehow they may actually be part of an elite and privileged-class. Or that the 2016 election was actually fueled by this as so many who are struggling just to make ends meet have felt unheard and forgotten by this country's leadership. How though many claim they are integrating, the truth is there's still this separation due to branding and gentrification.

The question that Grey and I now face is how to balance this. The reality is, though we were privileged to be able to find a way to pay for fertility treatments and childcare, we shouldn't have had to. I'm acutely aware that there are so many that would not have been able to do what we did, even though doing so was a great sacrifice. Additional, there are many who are finding their ways of life eroding. One could argue that they are solely responsible due to lack of education or unwillingness to undergo job retraining, but when teachers, first responders and many workers who power our cities and daily lives can no longer live in the communities they support, we've got a big problem. So how to do we counter the "separate" mentality that has been growing? How can we promote what we want to see without sacrificing ourselves in the process?

Honestly, it's something I'm really struggling with. I don't want to become that person who stands in front of someone, telling them I understand when what I'm actually doing is silencing them and their reality. My goal is to build with people, create a community where we are supporting one another and fostering a future where we all can see ourselves in. But I also know I no longer can do so with sacrificing myself and my family entirely in the process. This week has been a reminder of that, with meetings involving some amazing community leaders and builders. To see them model this way of life and what they are growing. But there's also been the reminders with the interactions with our new neighbors. The community spirit and support they have been fostering and how they've welcomed Grey, the Beats and I into it as if the most natural thing in the world. But doing so with the clear understanding that a lot of this building together requires finding like minded people. This screening that happens out of necessity to find those who will support the efforts to build and grow with while severing the ties with those who clearly aren't.

Because the reality is, there's a lot to be said about being in this place where we're worth nothing. To finally be able to refocus and rebuild. Its something that I hope so many more are able to find themselves in soon. A privilege that shouldn't be limited only to select few.

Learning through play

I don't even know how to start this post. I've been told that for moments like this, the end is best and to work backwards from there. So here's my feeble attempt at telling you about an ending and how I'm suddenly mapping out a new beginning.

It all started at the end of June. I was a couple of weeks into teaching an intense summer school course, finding myself exhausted with learning new material, writing lectures and problem sets all while dealing with a coworker who had decided long ago that I was subpar (and was hence making life very difficult). In a moment where I felt I had gotten my nose above the water, I decided to check the status on the course I was slotted to teach in the fall. And I found I couldn't access the website.

Thinking this was odd, I reached out to a friend for coffee with the hopes of gleaning some information. One coffee date turned into a scramble for more information, snowballing into a situation where I didn't know what was happening or what to believe. By the end of the week, I learned my contract wasn't being renewed. Without any warning or feedback that there was a problem, this news rocked me. For the first time ever, I was told I was being let go and I'd be lying if I didn't confess there's been quite a bit of anger.

The truth is, though, I haven't been happy in this position. Though things seemed like they would go well, there's been a number of things that have left me questioning my decision to leave my postdoc early. But the assumption I was operating under was that it was just a matter of getting through the first run of the course and then working with the team to address and revamp the course for a better second round. A week after the news though, I came to my own conclusion that I was done. On the heels of this news, I had a hellish weekend that ended with me on campus till also 11 pm on a Saturday night (and some interesting car ride home due to the number of drunk drivers on the road) as my co-instructor had decided the first exam averages were too low, so we should regrade all the exams immediately so they could be returned at the promised time. This on the heels of having 5 months of conflicts with her over anything one could think of. And in that moment, where it became apparent that I was working way too hard at something I wasn't enjoying (and with people I really didn't like) and that it was time for a change.

And so began a month long reflection on what the hell I wanted to do with my life. I've gone the extreme, looking at leaving science altogether and abandoning all I've done for the past 6 years. It's tempting just to call it all a wash. But in my quieter moments I've found that maybe the answer doesn't involve an extreme change, but instead just a small shift. What if instead of abandoning everything, I just abandoned what was making me extremely unhappy? And what would that look like?

Years ago, while working at the Beat's daycare, I was helping one of the lead teachers set up an activity. I can't remember what exactly the goal was, but her emphasis was simple: children learn through play. Over the short period I worked with those teachers, I found examples of this time and again, be the lesson have more formalized goals or not. Success always came through play, be it messy, nonsensical or very simple.

The thing is, learning through play isn't limited to children but is actually a universal truth to all humans. Be it video games, chose your adventure, art projects or lab experiences: we all learn best through the process of touching, exploring, breaking and doing something ultimately we deem as fun. There's also a selfish element here as I'm at my best when I'm enjoying what I'm doing and feel like my work is valued. In short, I teach best when I'm engaged in the play too.

So for the rest of the summer course, I tried incorporating play back into my teaching. During those 3 hour lectures twice a week, I played trivia with my students as they learned about the circulatory system (did you know that Count Dracula is believed to have had a condition called Porphyria?), respiration (did you know some reptiles can have such low metabolic rates that they literally go for extended periods without breathing) and sexual reproduction (apparently I'm highly skilled with teaching about sex without causing most people in the room to revert back to their 12 year old self-conscious selves) and made a point of being present during lab section (which was seriously cool). And though I was limited with what I could for assessments (as an aside, 2-3 hour exams should be banned), I tried to make myself as available to my students as they struggled with mastering the material.

But I also decided to try something different. The day I received the news about my termination, I reached out to some contacts who were leading novels ventures, hoping for new opportunities. And one emerged. Though at an inopportune time, I suddenly found myself in a new world that I had long been searching for. I met people who were driven to bring science to the community, to give K-12 teachers training in content in order to enhance their classrooms and to do teaching were the focus wasn't on the final grade, but what the students were learning from the experience.

Damn, it's been fun.

So combined with me declaring that I never, EVER, wanted to assign another grade in my life, the simple shift in incorporating play into my teaching has laid the framework for making one of the scariest and most experimental leaps I've made in a long time. At the beginning of the month, with Grey's and E's blessing and support (and from BnB, who's been insanely awesome), I signed a contract to begin a journey as a teaching fellow with a brand new community lab.

Could this all explode in my face? Absolutely! Grey and I both know that here's a very real chance that all of this could end with me back in the unemployment line and rapidly job searching all over again. Is there any job security in the path. Currently, a big fat NO. And what exactly this does position looks like? Well, that's currently defined with each day I'm at the learning lab with the executive director. Hence a lot of uncertainty.

But here's the thing: my goal with transitioning away from being a bench scientist was to go on to be a science educator. And if I'm being really honest, I haven't been doing that for the past 7 months. Over the past 3 weeks, though, I've begun doing what I've always wanted to do. Daily, I meet new and fascinating people who have also made this leap and are blazing the trail for making science accessible to the general public in a manner that actually works. The other element is I'm tried of playing it "safe" as usually what others consider good career moves have actually been fairly shitty for both Grey and me. The advice is outdated at best and we're both tried of following it as its only lead to misery.

I honestly wish I had a roadmap for all that laid ahead and how it would turn out. It would make things easier just to know what to expect. But Grey reminded me the other day that infertility survivors are well equipped for navigating the uncertainty and pitfalls. We know how to pick ourselves up in situations that would crush the average human being. And maybe that's the biggest part of this whole situation: that instead of scrambling for the answer out of this situation I'm finally able to see those roads that aren't as traveled that could end in ways that are better than ever expected.

Wish me luck.

A new set of firsts

Today, Grey and I packed up the Beats and drove as a family to their school. Off-loading everyone from the car, we all collected of separate backpacks and made our way into their school. After unpacking their backpacks, unloading nap rolls and newly-labeled fall clothing and exchanging kisses, Grey and I made our way to the bus stop and rode together into the city.

First day of pre-kindergarten. A transitional year out of daycare and prep for Kindergarten. Where has the time gone?

First day of a new commute for me. Though there are 2-3 days a week where we separate when I have to go onto campus, I'm now also battling for a space on the train.

First week on a new position. The story about that one has been epic, scary and strange.

All of these are new firsts. New chapters to the ongoing adventure. All of it bringing moments of excitement, dread, calm, confusion, pining for the past and hope for the future.

More to come soon, I promise

#MicroblogMondays: Moment of silence

Not sure what #MicroblogMondays is? Read the inaugural post which explains the idea and how you can participate too.

Today is Memorial Day. A national holiday that for many Americans has lost it's meaning. As a child, I remember taking a stroll through the cemeteries and seeing veterans from my grandfathers' generation handing out poppies. I remember seeing the flags, the service men and women dressed in their military best. And I remember the tears for those who gave their lives fighting for this country.

Though due to inclusivity, I'm no longer making announcements about veterans in my classrooms. But it doesn't mean I won't do so on my personal time. 

For all those grieving the loss of someone who gave their life in service, I'm so sorry. But I also am honoring your loved one for their sacrifice. For your sacrifice. Giving a moment of silence

The Sandwich Approach

Walks have become a daily ritual for me. Whether it be hitting a wall with preparing course material, needing a break following an over-stimulating conversation (either good or bad) or simply as I way to regroup and think, this 15 minute break that occurs regardless of the weather (and I mean regardless) has become essential towards maintaining my sanity.

It's on these walks, as I allow my mind to wander, that I find myself reflecting on all the craziness, both internal and external, that has been affecting my life. And it's amazing what observations that can come during some of these mind wanders. Whether it be observing spring flowers.

Or stumbling on a mini-petting zoo.

An aside: every place of work should have a petting zoo during periods of major deadlines.

All reminders that life can be insanely simple and complex all at once.

So what's been happening that's been keeping me from writing? That's instead put me into observation mode that involves reading and reflecting? The answer to that is both complex and simple. Fear and uncertainty mingled with guilt, complex emotions and a craving for simplicity in at least one area of my life.

To make sense of it all, I've been taking the sandwich approach. Similar in format to the ever popular "compliment sandwich," I've been allowing myself to acknowledge the hard and the fucked-up while inserting the good/amazing in the middle. Because without that middle, that amazing filling that fuels, what am I left with? And why try.

So let's start there:

• In March, I learned that my position is being transferred to another department. What this means is both my appointment goes from a 10 month appointment to a 12 month, comes with a formal training plan and a director to oversee my progress. Which is insane to think that I'll be getting feedback on my career path choice.
• This appointment also comes with a raise. A substantial one.
• In April, I was called to a last minute meeting with this director to discuss a potential teaching opportunity for the fall. Within 5 minutes of sitting down at the table with 2 other people I had never met, I realize that the chair of the department was offering me a course for their first year graduate students to help design and implement for the fall. After taking a minute to recover (which included some insane laughter and me resting my head on said table), I accepted the offer and am in the process of working with another faculty member to map out a schedule/syllabus for the fall. It's still all surreal.
• Grey has been rocking at his job, with his team making great strides with their project. Between the new commute, the work and the people he's working with, I haven't seen him this happy in years.
• We are officially out of diapers. After almost 6 months of no diapers during the day, He-Beat made the final leap to being dry at night (She-Beat has been there since last fall). After the experience of 16-20 diapers a day, it's amazingly freeing to only have to worry about underwear.
• The Beats continue to grow and thrive. Which is amazing to watch and a daily reminder of how lucky I am. 
• A new relationship is brewing between Jaxson and Daisy and the Beats. With the discovery that both Beats are skilled climbers (Grey says they're in their monkey stage), have figured out all the baby-locks (and have future careers as cat-burglars) and can open the fridge without much effort has come some interesting moments of intervention. Combined with their daily chore of feeding the cats and the realization that it's far more effective for the cats to wake up the kids than to try to get me out of bed, a new alliance is forming. Grey predicts the adults are screwed.

Looking over this list, it's a good middle. Which helps me whether the following:

• I start teaching summer school in less than a month. Though I am excited about this course and what I'll personally learn, it's also an intensive 7 week course (3 hour lectures!!!) that teaches half-a-year of college level biology. A meeting with the previous instructor that ended with "don't be afraid to fail people" has left me more than a bit concerned about what's ahead.
• In addition to this, Grey's contract at his current position comes due July 1. As of now, we don't know if he'll be unemployed again in a month, which is terribly frightening. Apparently management is meeting, so we're hoping he'll have an answer sooner than later. Still....
• We're moving. For two different reasons. The first being that 800 sq. feet is far too small for two soon-to-be 4 year olds, two adults and two cats. But the other reason is....
• I've had a falling out with Martha. With the Beats growing has come the noise complaints and the accusation that kids are "harming the house." Attempts to work things out have been completely ignored or refuted, so we're in a weird place of avoiding one another. I'm both heartbroken but also resigned.
• The cherry on top of all of this is that we put our condo on the market. 24 hours later, we got an offer. A very good offer. Potential buyers immediately signed off on the resale certificate (which I really didn't expect) and 24 hours after our counter-offer, we found ourselves in contract. There's still the appraisal to get through. There's also the fact that they could break contract. But right now the close date is set for July 1. 

So the sandwich. Especially following moments where the fear seems so intense and walking doesn't quite take the edge off. 

Privilege

Activity directions: +1 for statements that are true; -1 for statements that are not true. Write down total score at the end.

• Your success (academics/career) is generally attributed by others to your intelligence and hard work.
• Your accent/use of language is not perceived as foreign or strange by most people.
• At least one of your parents went to college
• Your family has never been referred to as "Broken.
• You are not seen as a "credit" to our race/ethnicity/socio-economic status/gender.
• Holidays you celebrate are commonly recognized and observed.
• You've never had to seek academic accommodation 
• Most of the people are your place of work/campus look like you.
• You've can speak openly about your significant other with relative certainty that others will not raise an eyebrow.
• You've (almost) never had to modify the way you speak.
• You've never been questioned about whether or not you work at your company/attend your institution as a student
• You've (almost) never had to worry about your physical safety.
• You are not/were not a first-generation college student.
• You never had to worry about having enough to eat.
• Medical care has (almost) always been accessible.
• You do not live with PTSD, depression, anxiety or another mental illness
• When you discussion future occupations, you can envision workplaces where people who look like you are working.

***********************

Privilege. Just the word is enough to cause an awkward moment in any conversation. The idea that unearned benefits to a subset of people solely based on their identify or upbringing is enough to make any anyone uneasy. But what's most provoking is when that accusation has been laid squarely on you. We have a stereotype of what privileged individuals look like: lazy, vapid, narcissistic, all with a polished exterior. And yet the truth is that those who are privileged are often just as hard-working as the rest of us. The difference lies in the safety net.

The discussion of privilege has been an ongoing one between Grey and I since we first met. Though Grey is a white, cis-, heterosexual male, he's also a first generation college graduate who's father actively discouraged him from doing any higher education. His sister was the one who blazed the trail to higher education and all of them went the community college followed by transfer to a 4 year institution route. But it wasn't easy as his family's social circle didn't know how to support college students and often there was jealous and a sense of betrayal for all of them moving beyond what this circle understood. This same support was lacking to from those that he would soon consider his peers as Grey struggled to fit into a world where a certain standard of behavior/mannerisms was assumed. My own background is better as college was rarely questioned, but my mother was highly threatened when both my brother and I chose to go on for more education outside the standard 4 year degree. Hence my own struggle to social fit into a world where those around me seem groomed for from day one, adding a fun layer to the imposter syndrome.

Yet, neither Grey nor I are allowed to talk about this. Any mention of our situations and struggles is quickly silenced or we are admonished for daring to assume others haven't had it hard too. Most recently sitting in an inclusivity workshop, a vast amount of time was spent calming those who immediately felt uncomfortable about facing their privileged. They were quick to cite all their hard work and hardships. All while suppressing the very population they supposedly wanted to better serve.

******************
In May, the Washington Post ran a powerful article about "Black Branding." The theme is a simple one: those with money and resources displacing those that have lived in an traditionally impoverished area, usually from several years. Gentrification is a recognized problem in many American cities, but what is most toxic about this is the attitudes from those coming in. From organic food to school choice to child care, they claim attraction to areas due to diversity, but they don't actually integrate.

It in these settings, where the differences between haves and have nots is glaring. Yet opening the discussion is extremely difficult as most of those in positions of privilege have honed their defense mechanisms. Grey and I both have been accused of not being mindful of diversity by these very people, all while counter arguments are quickly squashed and shunned. After all, their intentions are good. How could that possible make them in the wrong with their actions?

It's frightening to witness.

******************
Back in January, Bent Not Broken wrote a beautiful post confessing her privilege. On the heels of the Women's March, she talked about all privileges she had that she felt should not be privileges at all, but basic rights. For the past 7 years, starting with infertility to loss to a difficult pregnancy to going amazingly into debt to having to relocate just to exist, I've wondered aloud the exact same thing. And what I've come to realize is that the only way we're really going to see these changes is to start with the difficult inward and outward analysis. In means listening to others, even if we disagree with their viewpoints or feel insanely uncomfortable about what they are suggesting about us. It means stepping outside our comfort zones. It means realizing that real change only comes when we agree to be open to all, even if it requires us to do the hard work of address our core beliefs.

Where we've seen this in my classrooms is creating inclusive environments where learning goals are the focus and all students are welcome, despite their background or beliefs.

Which has meant including those that may be in the minority of political views, letting those know who voted for Trump that they will not be bullied or minimized.

It means not acknowledging veterans publicly as we have students from war-torn areas with families that were destroyed.

It means encouraging students to complete group work in libraries or other public spaces.

It means quietly pulling some students aside when they make jokes or comments that may be inappropriate and allow those who may have been offended to make the first move instead of assuming.

And it means often times listen to stories or opinions that trigger a deep-seating fury calmly, with curiosity and with an attitude of trying to understand.

Because at the end of the day, despite all the hardships and hurdles, Grey and I know we are privileged too. We are the privileged majority from the infertility community who is parenting. We are the privileged graduate students who are working in key institutions where we are making an impact. We are privileged to have access to medical care, to healthy food and a clean source of water. We are privileged in that we can now afford to pay our rent, our heating and electric bills and not have to worry about that happening.

And we are privileged because we finally have something of a safety net that we can build under us. Something that we can actually give to the Beats and hopefully generations to come.

#MicroblogMondays: Purpose

Not sure what #MicroblogMondays is? Read the inaugural post which explains the idea and how you can participate too.