Lessons From NASPA: I’m not ready yet.

So in addition to reflecting on the stuff I’ve learned from living at home, I also want to reflect on what I’ve learned from working at NASPA. Is that cool, too? Cool.

Before my internship I had a one on one with my advisor. Lol, this one on one did not go as planned. I thought I had my life all figured out and was excited to share my life plans. Mind you, back in hmmm November-ish she basically told me I’m scattered brained and need to get my life together. So, I went back and thought all about my life. Gee, Brittany, what do you want to do? I went back to her in say, April, with my life plans. We chatted. She basically said I still didn’t have it together and I needed to narrow more. One thing that I was “sure” about was that I didn’t want to work on campus.

Well, I was wrong. Through this experience I’ve realized I’m not quite ready to leave campus yet. There are somethings that I am sure I don’t want to do long term, such as supervise a staff, but working off campus is not one of those things.

I miss the campus feel and the campus life. I miss seeing someone new everyday. I miss being able to burst into the Housing and Residence Life suite in New Hall West and dance in front of Tricia’s office or play with all of the fun things in Kathy’s office. I miss seeing students doing crazy things and random high fives from my students or RA’s. I miss the spirit that campus life has. My personality, I think, is meant for the campus life. I’m high energy and the campus allows me to express that energy.

Don’t get me wrong, I’ve made some great connections at NASPA and have worked on some great projects, but I feel limited. I feel limited to a certain volume that we often exceed. I feel limited in the space that I have to roam and people I can see. When I’m in New Hall West, I often sit outside of the conference room and can talk to anyone from the VPSA to an RA. That’s one of my favorite places to see different faces. I miss that. I miss wearing t-shirts around campus and the infectious Hokie spirit.

Now I don’t know if this is just because I love Virginia Tech so much. I will venture to say that I can have this connection to almost any campus, but I just miss the campus feel. When you work on campus you aren’t limited to just your office. Some days you might spend more time in another building besides your own. You can head to different dining halls across campus for you. You can go to the gym if you wanted. When you work on campus there is a greater freedom to move and to know and be known. When I work in an office off campus, I feel that is all there is. I come to the same building and see the same people everyday. I’m not ready for that yet. I need the energy. I need the excitement. As corny as it sounds, I need the people. I work with about…I don’t know 20 or less people here. My WOO needs it! Okay, I sound like Dakota.

But seriously, there are different things that happen on a college campus that you can’t plan for. It’s exciting. Even in the midst of tragedy and crisis, it’s great to see the energy and know how much each minute matters. That’s incredible. Each minute really matters. Each minute I’m late responding to a duty call, it matters. Each minute a student is late for a one on one that will eventually make me late for next one, it matters. I can’t predict when one of my students will clog a toilet or even experience suicidial ideation. I miss working with the unknown and having to be ready to think creatively, quickly, and effectively. That’s where I shine the brightest, when I have to think quickly and creatively. Sometimes office works feels like a checklist of things to do each day then you go home and continue your life. Maybe that’s the intern office life, but I need the unpredictability that comes with working on campus. I also need the learning environment, but I’ll talk about that later.

But I learned I need to be on campus, for now at least. I can’t wait to go back! Go Hokies!

Get Out Of My Room: B= f(P,E)

So you’ve all learned some of the things Charlotte doesn’t mess around with. But a really serious one is her room. There are things we are and are not allowed to do in her room, but mostly are nots.

1. Do not sit on her bed

So the other night, I just got back from the gym and wanted to spend sometime with my mother. That’s pretty normal right? So she has her “sitting chair” in her room, similar to the one she was in the living room. This is where she sits from the time she wakes up to the time she goes downstairs in the morning to her other sitting chair. When she gets home, she undresses in that sitting chair and will relax…..in that chair. Her sitting chair. Mind you, she has a king size bed right next to her. But oh no, don’t sit on her bed. My mom treats her bed like it is the most prized possession she owns. So when I went in her room, I laid across her bed. She kept looking at me nervously and could barely focus on what she was doing.

Finally she said, “uhhh Brittany I don’t like the way you’re sitting on my bed.”

I responded “Mom, it’s a bed, you’re supposed to sit on it.”

She said, “Well, I don’t. I don’t like the way you’re all sprawled out across my bed and you just got back from the gym.”

I laughed and said, “Mom, how am I supposed to sit on it?”

She said, “You’re not. I don’t even sit on it. You’re tearing up my comforter and pillows. Brittany, get down on the floor that is bothering me.”

So I laughed again but more in a you’re being ridiculous voice and said “Mom, you are acting like this is some throne.”

She interjected and said “IT IS MY THRONE NOW GET OFF IT AND I DON’T CARE WHAT YOU THINK!”

Well, she told me.

This was all over a bed. A bed that is meant for sitting. But oh no, not Charlotte’s bed. When I got up, she made me fix the three wrinkles I made and acted like I wet her bed or something. You would think that I really just destroyed it the way she was huffing and puffing.

2. Don’t cut your toenails in her room

So a few weeks, no a month, I got a pedicure with Patrick. I got my toe nails painted Virginia Tech colors. Now I’m sure you can imagine that they are a little raggedy by now. I didn’t know where my toe nail clipper was, so I asked the one woman I knew who would have on, my mother.

“Mom do you have a toenail clipper I can use?” me in my sweet, angelic voice.

She acted like she didn’t hear me. My mom doesn’t like for us to use her stuff because she says we either break it or don’t return it.

So I repeated myself and she still did not respond. Finally, the third time is a charm. She hands me this raggedy cuticle clipper and said that’s all she had. Now, I didn’t believe that for a second. My mom is one of those people that buys those little manicure sets just because the case is pretty. But I took what she offered.

So I propped my foot up to get to work. She look at me like this. I swear it was like she was ready to fight.

She said, “Do not clip your toenails in my room. I do not like finding people’s nasty toenails on my floor.” First, who is searching for toenails in the carpet? Only Charlotte…

I laughed as I usually do and said “Mom, stop tripping I will pick them up. I’m only cutting two.”

She said, “No. I’m not playing do not clip your toenails in here.”

So I started clipping them. She said, “So you are just going to do it anyway after I told you not to? I can’t believe that. You are straight up just going to do whatever you want.”

I said, “Mom I’m just clipping two I will pick them up.”

She had enough she said, “GET OUT OF MY ROOM!”

I started hysterically laughing and continued she said, “Get out or I am going to hit you in the head with this shoe!” She sat there waving the shoe over my head. By this time I lost it. I was done for.

She started ranting about how we don’t pay her any attention and how we do whatever we want and continued to tell me to get of her room. So I said, “How are you going to kick me out of your room?”

She said, “This is my room and I can do what I want! I don’t come in y’alls room causing chaos. You all always want to disrupt me in my room. This is my room! Now get out and don’t come back in here with all that foolishness!”

She really kicked me out of her room over some toenails. She also hit me in the head with her shoe.

I can’t make this stuff up.

This made me think about how important space really is. The way we decorate our and live in our spaces communicates a lot about us. It communicates what’s important to us and what are those little things that make us feel at home. Our space is our time to separate from others and just be. A space doesn’t have to be a bedroom or an office; it can be any area that you designate as your own to just be. For my mom, that space is her room and there are rules to that space. Because that is her space, there are things we can and cannot do. Dealbreakers.

Last semester we talked a lot about Lewin’s equation, B= f(P,E). Behavior is a function of person and environment. The way the person interacts within an environment has great implications on his or her behaviors. How I occupy my space versus how I occupy my mother’s space are two different behaviors. Your environment has implications on how you act.

We can’t fully control the P, but we can control the E. When we create spaces and places for friends, families, students, or whoever to occupy, we decide what goes into those spaces and in turn those decisions have implications on what happens within that space. If we take our children’s room and fill them with TV’s, electronics, toys, and mini-fridges stocked with sodas, that has implications on how they do or do not behave and interact with the family. They can chose to disconnect themselves because their environment allows them to have all their needs met in their own space. Why bother leaving your room when everything is right there? Who cares about in-person social interactions when you can shoot zombies and talk to other gamers on your XBOX?

The way we fill our spaces is so important. It’s not just decoration, but it affects our behavior.

Think about how you have your office decorated. Your office communicates things about you that might change the way people interact in it. For example, in the housing and residence life suite there are some offices that I will gladly walk in, while there are some I will not. What the environment says impacts my behavior in that space. For the offices I won’t walk in, I’ll stand at the door and politely ask my question or briskly walk past with an awkward hello. While the offices I will walk in, I’ll take a seat, say hello, and spark up a conversation because the environment makes me feel like it’s okay to do so.

So look around. Look at your space. Who is it inviting in or shutting out? What does your space communicate about you? How are you behaving in your space and how does your space cause others to behave or chose not to even exist in your space?

The way we decorated our cube, or rather, the way Amelia decorated our cube says a lot about us. It says that we made this space ours and want people to come in and comment on the craziness. We made it fun and interny because that’s what and who we are. Our space is fun enough to where it doesn’t drive us crazy from blank walls, but functional enough to where we can still get work done. We pulled an extra chair in, so our space is inviting for someone to sit in for a while or eye-catching enough to where folks walking past might be more likely to say hi. While we weren’t “intentional” about this from the beginning, the environment we created still impacts behavior.

Now I should probably use this space to do some work. Love yaah NASPA.

We Need Those People

Every morning when I get off the MARC train, I see the same people. I see the same homeless people. When I exit the first set of double doors, there’s two men who sit against the wall to the left, one says good morning to as many people as he can while the other shakes his cup for change. When I exit the 1st street secret door, there’s three men who surround the door. The first man is generally sleep while the other two also shake their cup hoping for a friendly passerby. Everyone morning, the busy and well fed commuters brush past them ignoring their good mornings and hungry bellies.

I, too, am one of those commuters.

Yesterday a man stopped me when I was probably 20 feet away from my office. I thought not today sir, I’m almost at work. He went through this whole story about not having money to get back to West Virginia where he lives. He said he was trying to earn $17 to get back on the MARC train. He pulled out his identification and everything. With about $27 in my wallet, I lied to his face and said “I’m sorry sir, I don’t carry cash. Have a good day though.” I felt bad for a second, but went about my day. Something similar happened in Louisville at about 3:00am as a I stumbled home from the Big Gay Dance at ACPA, but I gave into his story so I could get home.

Today, I saw a busy and well fed commuter do something different. She did something that no one has done in my two weeks being here.

A tall, well-dressed woman stopped to the homeless man who greets the commuters good morning and the conversation went like this…

“Hey John! I brought you a sandwich” as she kneeled down and rubbed his shoulder. She didn’t hand him some raggedy McDonald’s sandwich. It was nicely wrapped so he could store some for later.

“Thank you baby! God Bless you!” said John as he graciously took the sandwich

“God Bless you too! You take care of yourself ok?” she said staring into his eyes, something most people probably won’t do. Ut prosim.

Every morning we rush past these people and ignore them. We get angry because they’re begging. We think they should get up and get a job. We put them into a box of people we just ignore. I’m guilty of it. I’m guilty of it everyday. This woman though, she didn’t let her time and life get away from what we all should be doing. She may or may not know his story, but she took the time to learn his name and help him. I always think I’m just a poor graduate student, I can’t help anybody. I just bought a brand new car, I think I can help someone. I don’t care enough to help.

We need those people who still care.

We are an unhappy and uncaring people. We are self-involved and only empowered by our own interests. We complain about providing for our own families and gripe at our children when they behave the way children should. We complain about our jobs, but smile and collect the paycheck every two weeks. We do everything but care on a regular basis. The folks who genuinely do care are often abused and taken advantage of to where their care no longer is seen as care to others but a plan b. My mother is one of those caring people, but my brother takes advantage of it to where she will always be one of those plan b in case his plan goes wrong. If money is a little short, “hey mom I need to borrow this much” with the expectation that she will agree. My mom emailed with one those spammers who want to use your bank account to transfer money for about a month simply to pray with that person and encourage him or her. I bet that was unexpected.

We need those people who still care.

I think the people we can learn this best from are children. When we get older, we become so complex. We become so complexly stupid. Children enjoy those simple things that allows them to care. A few weeks ago I got to play with my supervisor’s kids. Aside from my nieces, I rarely see kids. We played softball, chase, boogey man, and all sorts of games. They didn’t know me from the next person, but they played with me and took time to care about me in that moment. When they went to bed, they hugged me goodnight as if I was someone regularly involved in their life. They cared about me without their own interests in mind.

We need those people who still care.

In student affairs we talk so much about actively caring and doing this and that. Do we really care? I know when I have that paper due the next day, I do not care. Simple as that, I. Do. Not. Care. My job is to care, yet when I get so involved in my own business, I do not care. This happens all the time. We need those people who still care. We need them to teach us how to care. We need something to happen to make us care. When we do care, we become trend carers. For example, everyone was all about KONY. Who talks about it now? Who still cares? We get wrapped up in trend causes and will hashtag anything, but rarely do anything to truly actively care and participate in helping. I’m guilty of it all and who knows if even after this I’ll do something to change my behavior. I guess it’s not an overnight kind of thing, but I wish I cared more.

Get You Through the Day

“Ah, I forgot my lunch this morning.”

“I very rarely eat lunch.”

“Really? Why not?”

“Well I hate buying it for one thing..”

“Oh and you hate carrying things too.”

“Yeah, so I’ll usually fill up on a good breakfast to get me through the day, but I’m usually pretty hungry by dinner.”

I overheard this conversation about 3 minutes ago as two middle-aged men gathered at the MARC exit door to Rockville station. I’m not sure if they were friends or just frequent riders. The conversation was simple, but revealed so much more about the man who was just sitting next to me in the seat too small for the both of us. It made me think about the way he makes decisions and prioritizes things in his life. When he first said he didn’t each lunch, I figured it would be followed up with some statement about being too busy because I saw him dialing away at emails on his blackberry earlier. I thought lunch was another one of those in the way steps of feeling accomplished in our to do list driven lives. His reasoning was simple really, but it’s the “to get me through the day” part that sparked my interest.

Breakfast would be his first and last meal until dinner to get him through his day. Whatever he ate that morning would have to hold him through the day because that was the decision he made from cost and comfort. Does he put extra thought into his breakfast? Does he think before pouring a mediocre sized bowl of Cheerios will this get me through my day?

What gets you through your day? I don’t mean what meals or snacks do you consume to provide that physical energy, but what gives you that spark to get through another day that could be just like the other?I know everyone in student affairs says no day is alike, but I mean really they are. We aren’t really that special. What gets you through the monotony of your fifth committee meeting where nothing seems to get done? What gets you thorough that boring one on one where you just want to through your hands up and walk out? It’s crazy to think how often people’s professional lives are eight hours of “getting through” until they can work resume their personal life or vice versa.

I’m reading this book that talks about how to live a happier life blah blah and it talks about how your work and personal life shouldn’t be separate. You should bring the same passions to your work as your do your personal. What you do for work is serving your organization and those impacted, while what you do for home is serving and providing for you family. No matter the location, it’s all service driven by some passion. If you don’t love your personal or professional or really what should be the marriage of the two, maybe think about reconsider what you’re doing to get through the day.

In a perfect world, everyone would be in their dream career with their dream lives. That may not always happen to the tee, but there are ways you can influence your life to do more than just get through the day, but actually embrace and enjoy your day. It’s always the little things that make me remember why I love what I do and who I am. It’s the little Facebook notes or emails. It’s the little laughs or moments I want to punch someone in the face. There are things that get me through the day beyond waiting for it to be over. If you can’t find this is in work, take on a new hobby or a new pet. We are charged with keeping our lives rich and fulfilled, so do something to spark your inner child and do more than just get through the day.

What Are You Wearing On Your Face

So everyone says your clothes tell a lot about you right? Or something like that. What you put on says a lot about your style, the way you carry yourself, what you do for work, your age or lifestyle, and several other things. We spend our mornings picking out the perfect pattern and ironing in the perfect crease or some of us pick up the closest thing on the floor. Regardless, we spend some intentional (ugh, student affairs) time thinking about what’s going on our body. We think about what it might communicate and if it’s appropriate for the occasion. It matters, right?

Well what about what we wear on our face?

And I don’t mean make up.

I’m sitting on the train right now and looking at all the faces. Many of the faces I see are sleep, blank, engulfed in an electronic device or newspaper, staring into the distance, and only one on the whole train is engaging in conversation with a stranger. As people get up to exit the train, their faces turn to a dark “it’s Monday” look as they finish their commute to their destination. As the line gathers near the exit door, not a single smile comes across the busy commuter’s faces. What are you wearing on your face? What does your face communicate?

It seems like the art of dialogue is a dying talent. A train well over 50 people and there is only one conversation, that I can hear, occurring. Now, I’m blogging so I should slap myself on the wrist, but think about it…what did people actually do before we became so distracted? Did people talk to other people before they got lost in the faceless screen of our addictive cell phones? Did people drag their feet to work with a look of death on their face? Did people shy away from the person that looks like they talk too much?

I know I’m guilty of it. I’m sure my face is communicating some young adult typing away the latest rap song on Facebook (HA! they’re wrong. I beat the system). But think about it. What does your face say about you? Are you smiling and embracing the time and space you have around you or are you blankly walking to the next step on your to do list? You never know if you have that last smile that could make someone’s day. As corny as it sounds, someone might be depending on your smile.

It’s unrealistic to walk around ear to ear everyday, but why not give it a try once in a while. I just looked up at a lady and smiled as she exited the train and she quickly looked down in a nervous glance at the same shoes she put on this morning thinking…is this lesbian looking at me? Lol ok, maybe I’m being dramatic. It just blows my mind that a friendly gesture, a simple smile makes people uncomfortable or unwilling to do as we have the greatest opportunity each day– living.

Think about your face today. Who’s smiling at you as you nervously
look away? Yes, it’s you they are looking at, not their long lost grandmother, so smile back and say hello. You could be that first or last hello of their day. Imagine if you were the first person someone opened their mouth to to speak today. What if there isn’t someone at home to say good morning to them? Be that person today.

STFU Brittany: Shake it Up

“You keep up too much noise. Don’t you see how quiet we are around here? *points to the hallway* Do you sit up in your apartment and make noise like that?” Mother

“If I want to.” Me

“Well, that’s stupid.” Mother

So my Mom always complains that she is too old now for a bunch of noise. Whenever my brother and I play fight or sing loudly, she goes into this big speech about how her nerves can’t handle that. Oh and don’t dare go in her bedroom making a bunch of noise, that’s an immediate get out.

Now I like being respectful and all, but sometimes you just gotta shake things up.

I like to shake things up at home, work, with friends, at the bar, wherever. Why stick to the monotony of life? So often we get stuck doing just this and just that, that life becomes just living. Life is the single longest thing we do, so why only just do it. Shake it up, do it to the fullest.

When we’re “just” doing something were only doing it because we feel there’s some responsibility for us to do it or we are making it less than what it really is. I’m just a graduate so I can’t do this and that. I’m just going to work because I have to earn a wage. If we defeat the just and simply do things for pure enjoyment, imagine how much more fulfilling our lives could be.

If we shake things up and genuinely do things with purpose and fight the just, imagine how much more of an impact we could have. Do something out of your daily 9 to 5 just to shake things up and say BOOM I still got it. Do that crazy thing your partner thought didn’t exist past the honeymoon phase to shake things up. If we don’t keep ourselves refreshed and shake things up in our lives, life becomes more than the longest thing we do, but also the most boring thing we do.

My mom will tell me to be quiet everyday this summer, but I won’t. My house is generally quiet and boring. Everyone is old and in their own routine. Not I. I’m home and everyone will know. Shake it up!

People always talk about how loud I am. Well that’s me. It’s not that I like being the center attention, who am I kidding– yes I do, but I like to live loud. I’m not saying everyone has to be an extrovert, Lord knows (thanks TED) we need our introverts, but it’s so important to live you and live it loud. Live it loud for everyone to see. Your personality should never been someone’s dealbreaker that sends you through a cycle of self-defeating thoughts.

I’m really the love or hate me kind of person. I’m annoying, I know this. The folks who can’t deal with me, that’s fine! It’s completely fine! It’s not going to make me change who I am. If you don’t live out loud and live beyond the “just” what is the point? I mean there is a point, but don’t disvalue your life and downplay yourself. You’re incredible already.

Friends. How Many of Us Have Them.

(I hate this black man.)

So Patrick and I are doing this blog thing together. When we both post a new one, we send the other an exciting text announcing our newest blog. I read Patrick’s today where he made this comment about me…

“My new sister is Britt. She is not impressive in any way, shape, or form, (LOL). She’s a pretty cool kid sister.”

Ha! We have this friendship where we shut each down in the most uplifting ways. In less than an hour he called me unimpressive and mocked my speech impediment. Yet, his friendship is one that I truly have valued since I’ve been at Virginia Tech. He’s an older guy, so I can go to him for wisdom about my failed relationships or to give me the stop sign when I’m about to lose my cool at the bar. When we met, we both had this awkward Martin Lawrence sigh of relief saying ahhh another black person. This is not to discredit my friends of other races, but there is something about the kinship that happens with someone who looks like you.

But this post isn’t all about Patrick, it’s about the amazing thing that happens when two people become friends.

I have a lot of friends. I’m not trying to sound like a pompous asshole, but I do. I have a lot of friends because I really enjoy those little moments you feel when a friend blows your mind. This could be anything from watching them perform to hearing some unintentionally clever thing they said. The joy my friends give me is irreplaceable. I have friends I can laugh with, study with, drink with, talk about life with, and anything under the sun. I’m not always the best friend, but I like to think there are generally good intentions behind my friendships.

I like for my friends to know my struggles, my issues, and the things that make me crazy. I don’t fear this being open knowledge because I’m confident that my friends don’t use this against me, but as a means to help me reach my next rung on my rope ladder. Patrick makes fun of my stutter all the time. All the time. Patrick also knows my dreams of being a speaker. While my stutter could make that a little difficult, he still lifts and builds me up through the jokes and encouragement. It’s the comedy of friendships that sustains them and lifts us up in ways we might not think about. I could be sensitive about it, but no… It is funny. So embrace it and laugh at it.

I wish I could write a note to all the friends who have impacted me in some way with a memory and a message of gratitude. I wish I could go back to the days of freestyling in Pocomoke with David Hutchinson, falling asleep within 10 minutes at Ashley Bayton’s house, hanging out in the Safeway shopping center with Katie Lubet and Sarah Morin, Britt talks with PJ Boggio, Flower Valley pool with Meghan Moritz, having deep talks in Chester with Beverly Luckett, playing softball with the Dizzy Bats, Arts and Crafts with Jess Wilson, singing with Powerfied Youth, talking on the phone with Mounir Bouterfa, and hanging out in Red Square with the Flexies. All these memories in such a short period can only speak for a lifetime of friendships I hope to make and keep. In the words of Brad Paisley, I live for little moments like that. But really I do. I live for those little things and smiles. I live for the laughs and hugs. If this short 23 years is a preview of a lifetime, sign me up.

Message that person you met at orientation. We have all these friendships, but let them go to waste when we get so busy with life. Spend some time on the playground swings (It’s quite fun. Patrick and I did last week. He made the whole swing set shake.) and think about all the valuable people you have in your circle. Your biggest fan is probably the person you never think to think about. The time you spend beating yourself up, one of your friends is wishing they were half the person you are. Smile for yourself and your friends. It’s at least worth a try.

My House, My Rules

So this morning, I’m sleeping like the precious angel I am. Mind you, I no longer have my own bedroom, so I settled for the couch. The mornings that my mom carpools to work, she comes and sits in her “waiting chair.” Yes, she named it her waiting chair. I’m a decently heavy sleeper, so this usually doesn’t bother me. So she sees me sleeping, looks at me for a second, and makes a statement.

“I know you aren’t sleeping on my good decorating pillow. Don’t you see that’s not a pillow for sleeping? Go get one of those raggedy pillows and sleep on that.”

So, instead of arguing about what pillow is meant for what, I removed it from under my head. It’s a pillow, me sleeping on it isn’t going to do anything. So, I went back to sleep. Two minutes later, I hear the tv turn on. Mind you, I am asleep. She turns it up and casually watches while checking email on her new cell phone that she won’t let me see. I’m feeling a little bold so I get up and turn it down.

She looks at me like this and says

“Now how do you think I’m supposed to hear that.” She rolls her eyes, turns it up, and continues about her business.

Once again, I lose.

Charlotte will always make the rules and regulations for this house. What she says goes. We are expected to abide or well get over it. No exceptions. I asked her if I could make a simple rule and that was that she doesn’t repeat things over and over again. She said this is her house, I don’t get to make any rules.

Well, that’s how life operates I’ve learned. We go from place to place, system to system and have to learn their rules of the game. We have to learn the “Virginia Tech way” or the “McDonald’s way.” When we don’t, we get left behind. We ridicule the system for being unfair or not caring about its members. We criticize and settle for discomfort until a new opportuntity presents itself. When we don’t learn the rules of the game, we become that awkward player that eventually doesn’t get picked for the team anymore. We become that person that is consistently unhappy. We become that person who everyone says “finally” when he or she announce his or her departure.

Now, I’m not a big one for “rules” and all that, but I’m going to credit that to me being a young and dumb graduate student. However, I do know that you have to get in where you fit in. There are some things I did at Salisbury that aren’t going to fly at Virginia Tech. I had a lip ring all summer at Coastal Carolina while serving in a professional role– they loved it! When I wore it at Virginia Tech, I was looked like this by several people. It’s not that it made me less of a person, it just didn’t fit into their rules of the game. No one told me to take it out, but I felt this discomfort, so I did something about it. I took it out and adapted. To me, this wasn’t changing who I was. To me, this was me making sure that I didn’t let something as simple as a lip ring disvalue me as a new person to the people who would quickly form an uninformed opinion about me.

There will always be a few things that are worth shaking or challenging the “rules” a little bit, but chose those carefully. For example, I want a pet. Professionals at VT can have pets, but grads cannot. While I’m sure I don’t understand all the context behind why we cannot, I consistently ask and voice my reasons why I believe I should be allowed to have a pet. Challenging the rules doesn’t mean going out and buying a 50lb dog to make a point. That would just be foolish AND I might lose my job. But working within the system and challenging the rules means appropriately advocating for my concerns, but recognizing at the end of the day there is a reason behind the rule. Will not having a dog change my experience? No, but I’d still like one and feel like I have the support to voice that when appropriate to the appropriate people. For me being probably the most inappropriate person, I sure am saying appropriate a lot.

Rules exist for a reason and it’s probably best to learn them before you try to break them. My director of Housing & Residence Life taught me a valuable lesson when she said she would first get a lay of the land for six months before making any major decisions. Sometimes we just have to sit back and learn the rules of the game before pulling up a seat at the table. If we don’t, well we’ll see how far we make it. You gotta get in where you fit in.

In another post or so, I’m going to contradict this entire thing and talk about when rules interfere with passion and prevent upward growth and creativity. That’s wall you call danger. For now, know the rules and proceed with caution. Next, break all the rules and get the naysayers on your team. Not really, but it’ll make more sense later.

Let me go find an appropriate pillow and go back to sleep.

Which One Does Not Belong In This Picture: People Watching

(my fancy new library card, cost me $2 for a replacement!)

So in the bordem of sitting at home all day, I decided to go to the library and check out some books for summer reading. I wasn’t sure if I even had a library card anymore or if I was hundreds of dollars in library debt from overdue books. All that aside, I tried anyway. Up and down the aisles I went searching for those “student affairsy” books all the top dogs read. Well not really, because this is a public library with little interest in student affairs. However, I was looking for some of those rocket ship button pressing books. I found a few, but most of all I found people.

I found the many different people that occupy the Germantown Branch of the Montgomery County Public Library system. I found old men reading casually in soft seats with their balding heads exposed to the flourescant lights. I saw a middle-aged man playing some RPG on the public computer. I saw kids running into each other and their parents over the excitement of checking out a stack of books. I saw an older woman waiting in the lobby for her ride or the local bus. I saw a grandfather with his head tilted back in the chair asleep while his grandson (assumption) read quietly next to him. I saw people.

Being constantly surrounded by “college folk”, I forgot what it is like to see just people. I’m so used to seeing students, colleagues, teachers, and the like that I forgot what it was like to just be a person in a library. Even when I go to Walmart, I see my students and local fans or constituents of Virginia Tech. At school, I’m a student, a hall director, a supervisor, a this and that, but in the regular world I’m just a regular person. Not that these roles are anything significant, but they still hold that awkward green diamond from the Sims over my head. When I walk across campus, I can look at people and box them into a major, academic year, career path, and student organizations. While I’m at the library, I can only look at them as a person.

In academia we play so many roles and wear so many hats and sometimes forget we are still just people. Outside of the comfort of our familiar campus, the world sees us as a person. In the library, our education, position, and different accolodaes all go out the window. At first glance, someone might look at me and think I might not even be able to read. It’s like on the campus we constantly wear our graduation cords, stoles, and hoods without even knowing. The freshman looks a certain way, while the VPSA looks another. Once we walk into the local Kroger, we are just that person looking for the 2% milk while clearly in the 1% section.

So my challenge this summer is just to be a person. I want to be a person on the metro beginning my 9 to 5 day and not Brittany the hall director. I want to engage with people because they’re a person, not a resident of my building. I want to talk to someone who can share the details of their profession because they are actually still passionate about it and not apart of a system of semantics. I want to meet people who don’t understand or even know what I do with my life. I want to be just like that old man with his cap off reading a paper.

If we get back to appreciating just being a person, I think maybe we can work on that person versus the person we feel we have to be because of our roles. I’m not saying most people don’t have this right already, but so often, especially in this field, we become our work. We become the job description and the resume to where we lose the name at the top of the resume. I hope this summer to learn more about Brittany the person, so that when I do go to my next step they are hiring Brittany and not Brittany with x experience. I want people to engage with Brittany and judge me the way I did at the library.

I’m going back tomorrow.

Life’s Little Deal Breakers

I hadn’t even been home for 12 hours before I got my first complaint from my mom. I called her at work to ask her a question. The conversation took an unexpected turn. She started with “I have a few concerns.” In my mind I’m thinking what the hell did I do already? So being the sweet daughter I am, I said “what’s up, mom?” She said “did you leave the dining room chair out?”

What, lady? You are concerned about a chair being pulled out. I promise, she was serious as a heart attack. Let me show you exactly what her “concern” looks like.

She said it was bothering her all morning and she can’t live like that all summer.

A chair. A chair is my mother’s deal breaker.

Well, it made me think about what are my deal breakers in life. What are the things I absolutely cannot go for? I think it’s important to have those deal breakers. Whether it’s in a relationship, a job, a job search, or even buying a car, you should always be prepared with a list of deal breakers. It reminds me of the second years job searching. In the beginning many of them were restricted to certain jobs, institution types, regions, benefits…their deal breakers. However, once April and May rolled around, those deal breakers started to go away. Of course, life throws you curveballs and you have to adjust as necessary, but what are those things that are non-negotiable?

For my mother, me not pushing the chair in all summer is a non-negotiable. Would she put me out? Well, I don’t know about all that, but she was passionate about it enough to say no way Jose.

I guess with every juncture in our life we set some expectations and hopes of what to get out of it. With that comes those deal breakers. I think it’s important to create realistic deal breakers and stick to them. Not everything can be a deal breaker, but it is worth having some to be able to say in the words of my friend Patrick Jones, “I can’t, I won’t.”

Breaking a deal breaker doesn’t necessarily mean walking away, but maybe evaluating the situation and your expectations and determining if that is truly your “fit.”

I hate when any partner of mine burps in front of me. I’ve told every partner in my past that. Is that an unrealistic deal breaker? Hmm probably. But, lying…oh that’s an automatic deal breaker because I know that I already struggle with trust. From the birth of that lie on, it would be difficult for me to believe anything else. That would be too uncomfortable for me to sustain a healthy relationship…equal signs deal breaker.

What are your deal breakers in your relationships? career? family? aspirations?