11 March 2009

Sexism starts at the reception desk *

I had an interesting conversation with a colleague today about the pink collar ghetto w both somehow managed to escape after many years of toil. Perhaps not coincidently, it took Europe and grad school to get us each on a different flight path.

But as I think about my own future, moving on from the luxury and security of a multi-year research fellowship at a prestigious and inspiring university, into the worse job market since (insert reference here). But I'm no stranger to entering job markets at the crappiest of times (1991 anyone?). For a hot second I was considered uber successful among my female friends after landing the coveted position of part-time receptionist at a commercial radio syndication company. This, after six weeks folding sweaters ala Janene Garafalo at the Express store in the Del Amo Mall. Doesn't get much more successful at 22 now does it?!

My point here is that no one ever taught me how to look for a job. Or think about the range of things I could do. I had a political science degree with a communication minor. I didn't understand the creative industries, the non-profit world, what it meant to work in politics, and lacked the chutzpa to take off and travel. I had somehow bought into my dad's notion of The Company, even though The Company I fell in with was more a product of National Lampoon than Wharton.

I was clever, industrious, and not lacking a terrible resume upon completing of my undergraduate degree, but the recession and the lack of vision beyond pink collars eluded me. Perhaps it was the six year history of crappy 'women's work' jobs I had fallen in with to pay the bills during college and high school. Either way, it took me a decade to break out of the common female administrative trajectory. And once you get on the train boys and girls, it's not easy to get off it! Which is fine if that's what you are looking to do. But I wasn't and my job history started to track me on a path I didn't want. I envy and am inspired by young woman packing a take no prisoners approach to their own destinies. Admittedly I am sometimes annoyed in a way that reeks of jealousy.

But not knowing how to use a switchboard isn't the worse thing. Although I stand by the view that it never pays off to be dismissive of the receptionist. Cos she may be the next coordinator. And you just might need something from her someday.


(* Susan gets full credit for that sage line)

10 March 2009

"I'm a Roma Woman"


Decade of Roma Inclusion on International Women's Day! (even if I'm two days late...)


From the press statement:

For International Women's Day 2009, the Budapest-based Romedia Foundation and Amnesty International, with the support of Duna Televizio, created a video campaign about Roma women. The four-minute "I'm a Roma Woman" public service announcement includes statement by five Roma human rights activists along with footage from Roma settlements across Europe. At a time when extremism and violence threaten Roma in Hungary and elsewhere, the campaign urges the public to respect Roma in all their complexity. A 30-second version of this video is being screened on hundreds of public screens in Hungary from March 6 to 10.

Are you there god, it's me...hello?

America less Christian...that is until people stop praying at the alter of Walmart and start getting up earlier on a Sunday morning!

I feel vindicated that this article connects the decline of those identifying as Christian might actually have something to do with the Republican party's co-option of Christianity. Are you with us or against us, god and 'merica? I turned in my Catholic id card after Prop 8. Well I would if I had one that is. I spent about twenty minutes one evening in November researching how one can excommunicate oneself from the Catholic Church and it's not easy. Or necessary, really. I can either take the deeply radical route of, er, stop going to church (I clearly left in junior high then) or I can write a letter to my parish and have myself removed from the books. Except since I don't have a parish I can write a letter to the Cardinal and tell him how I feel. I'm sure he would be personally devastated as soon as he returned from mentoring his West Hollywood flock.

But I digress.

Second point is that if they are trying to assess the rise of non-Christian religions, polling in English and Spanish will only get you so far. Clearly they haven't spent much time in Alhambra.

09 March 2009

More argh than ARRRRR




Who needs a Renn Faire when you can get your own lancing courtesy of the Hungarian health system for only $65??

I went in for a minor eye surgery today to have an infected gland removed from my lid (yum!. I was secretly looking forward to the eye patch I'd be sporting afterwards, reckoning I could really work the pirate theme for a day. What I didn't realise is that I would look more like an extra from the Red Badge of Courage than Pippi Longstocking. What a waste of a patch. The more ridiculous thing is that I was planning to go teach afterwards. I actually had to cancel class. I had no idea I would look so, so injured. Thankfully, I look far more damaged than I am.

However, it was strange coming home because apparently a patch on the eye doesn't elevate you to disabled or elderly status. Not that I am arguing it should, but I am embarrassed to say I was a little disappointed in the lack of a reaction I got. I mean come on, how many patchy-eyed foreigns are running around on a daily basis??! I wanted to feel like I got something in return for having my festering eyelid flipped upside down and sliced in to! No one offered me a seat on the crowded metro. When I blindingly bumped into someone, I got the requisite dirty look without even a hint of sympathy. The check out lady at the market where I stopped in didn't even look at me in an awkward way - no side eye, just like any old foreigner who happened to fancy some yogurt and had to lean all the way in to the register to read the total amount due. Like I said, it's not like I am injured, but it's not every day you get to walk around with a monster eye patch and I just wanted something - anything - to make me feel special! I know they've had it rough here what with the Soviet socialism and the wrong side of two world wars but it felt like the whole of Budapest just flat out refused to give me what I was looking for today. Instead, it told me Suck it up. It could be worse!


PS - did I mention it was only $65 for the whole thing?? My co-pay in the US would be more than that for outpatient surgery...starting with $20 for the primary care visit for the referral, (ouch, there is something in my eye!), $20 the initial visit for the specialist to say yes! there is something in your eye!, $20 for the tests to determine that indeed yes, there is something in my eye!, and as much as $75 for the outpatient surgery where they get the thing that took the GP in the ground floor of my university three minutes to examine and send me to the eye specialist who took one minute to identify the very common and clearly inflamed gland and another 15 minutes to fix it right then and there. I (heart) Hungarian health care today. Yes, the office was in a building whose exterior screamed with neglect and age and a broken window or two, but you just have to learn to look past the facades and embrace what is inside, which was a perfectly normal and nice, new interior of the office suite!

Next stop on the Hungarian healthcare highway, dentistry!

06 March 2009

monks, lamplighters and economic collapse

So many ramblings to report on, so little focus! In the past two weeks, I've experienced Austrian Monks and their wine, exhibitions on Hitlers' artistic designs, to Burning Man Swiss-style if Burning Man took place rather in a medieval Swiss town and involved villages donning pagan garb and fire safety helmets, and instead of a singular man to burn, they all carried bundles of burning wood over their shoulder and ran through the center of town whist the onlookers cheered. I couldn't make this up.

In any event, in the meantime, as I've been adventuring across the Germanic world for work (industrial East Germany next weekend! Holla for Halle!), the Hungarian economy has been in a freefall, http://www.blogger.com/img/blank.gifor what that fear-mongering publication the New York Times refers to as "a state of near meltdown." It's an awkward feeling as foreigner because their downward spiral and rapid devaluation of the Hungarian forint means that the whole city has one big 25% off sign attached to it for people like me. It's sort of like showing up to the craps table and betting on the "Don't Pass" line. Cos what's good for Kate is bad for Hungary.

So in effect, I just got a pay raise because I earn dollars which is for now a stable currency and actually doing quite well internationally despite our own domestic downward spiral (figure that one out? The world is at the "pass" line and it's only Rush Limbaugh and his ilk gunning for 'merica to fail. Nice one, Rush.

Bring it on! (so say the Russians)

05 March 2009

All together now

Stand on the right, pass on the left.