Tag Archives: children

i have a new job (on vancouver island)

Today I finish up my last bit of work for my MLIS degree (my professional experience moderating TeenRC.ca) and a couple of hours ago I got a phone call offering me a job as a librarian in Campbell River BC, out on Vancouver Island. It’s been a good day.

So Campbell River is a small town on the eastern side of the island. The branch there is a hub for five surrounding very small libraries whose collections we also manage. My job is as a Children’s/Youth librarian and they really want to develop their teen programming and services so I’m being given an almost blank slate to be working with. They already have a Teen Advisory Council set up, and my boss is really proud of the teens up there. So it should be a good time.

The branch is small and I’ll get on-desk time covering both Adult and Children’s services, which is great. I know that another library in the library system does D&D nights so there’s precedent for me to get some gaming into this library if the members are into that.

Morning ferry

I’ve never lived in a small town before so we’ll see how that part of everything works, but it’ll be somewhere new and hopefully means I’ll have more to write about. It’s going to be so nice to unsubscribe from all my jobfeeds.

Thank you everyone who’s been nice to me while I’ve been kind of down this summer. I’ve complained a lot about the soul-grinding nature of jobhunting, but I have been lucky enough to get interviews, and now I’m going into full-time work. Which is weird. My plan is to save money for doing the Trans-Siberian trip in the next couple of years since I’ll be making money and won’t be in a big city to spend it.

A week from today I’m going to go to Winnipeg for a week. It’s been a year and a half since I was there for my grandma’s funeral. I planned this a while ago as a break from the accursed hunt, but now it’ll be much more fun without my lack of income to pay October’s rent looming.

I’ll also try to write more now that I’m no longer wasting all my energy on cover-letters.

Tagged , , , , , , , , , ,

first (and not last) jobhunt disappointment

A while back I applied for a Children’s Librarian job far from Vancouver in a much rougher place than here. Last week people from the library called and scheduled a phone interview, which meant I started to get a bit excited. On Wednesday I had the interview and I felt like it went really well. I never had to talk out of my depth, I was excited about the possibilities coming up at the library. In my head I was figuring out how the logistics of moving to this far-off place would work and how little Vancouver time I might have left. I was thinking about cool programs I could be running for the kids up there, and what a great job that would be.

I should know better than to want anything ever. I have a way better track record at getting things I don’t really care about.

So yeah, I didn’t get this job. Which is good because it means I’m not leaving Vancouver anytime soon. The crappiness of it is that I applied out there thinking it would be a less competitive situation. Jobs here in the lower mainland put me at the throats of practically all my librarian friends (note that we’re all very nice about the job competition so far and all the throats are more conceptual background thoughts than anything literal) and even more qualified people. Here, I’ll only be able to get the job that I’m absolutely perfect for, I feel.

But them’s the breaks and I’ll keep applying for things. One of my friends just highlighted a job in Kelowna that would be pretty good for me, and I’ve got applications in at a few libraries around here that it’s possible I’ll hear some word on soon.

Tagged , , , , , , , ,

out in the country

On Wednesday Holly and I got up far too early to go out to a school in the nearby town of Lijia for an extremely well-documented bout of “helping the poor children” (ugh). This wasn’t our idea.

There’s a group of outdoorsy type people who started this organization “Twinkling Stars” to raise some money and do some work for kids after the Sichuan earthquake of 2008. They went to the village they were helping and did some good work I guess. Wednesday was their second trip, and first that wasn’t disaster provoked. They’re customers at the bakery and asked Holly to join them.

The idea was that they went to this poor school, brought a bunch of clothes and stuff to give them and then shared their skills. There were maybe fifteen to twenty volunteers. A lot of them were photographers and some of them were taking good pictures of the kids in a class and then would give prints to their parents. There was some sort of gongfu training I think? Holly was brought along to teach English classes to grade four students.

Of course, this being China, any work could only be done after a multi-hour ceremony outside in the cold with speeches and songs and seven year old girls dancing wearing nothing but gauze. It was maybe 6 degrees out. I wept for them.

Twinkling Stars and the school both knew how to stage these things. We got off the bus that brought us a hundred metres away and walked up to the school with the bags of clothes, all the volunteers wearing orange or yellow jackets. Maybe twenty metres from the school gate the road was lined with kids waving tinsel covered hula-hoops and drumming and chanting “Warm Welcome!” A couple of handfuls of cops kept an eye on things.

As the Twinkling Stars headed up to their seats of honour I peeled off of the group. Because Holly is great, she explained away my disappearance nicely. So through the speeches and performances I didn’t have to sit in the cold, but wandered around the fringes with the parents and other villagers. I was accosted by a few people asking me questions I couldn’t answer (my 中文 classes helped very little for this trip) and got mobbed for a photo once.

When Holly got into the classroom she did a lesson on Christmas vocabulary and played games with the kids. I helped with classes two and three after lunch, as I’m a much better classroom assistant than lead teacher. She’s much better at dealing with a classroom than I am.

For lunch we ate from the cafeteria and then had a session of talking about what we’d experienced that morning. It felt like everyone came up and shared sort of prepackaged moments of the touching things they’d learned (of course, I wasn’t actually paying attention and don’t know the language so I’m probably way off). My favourite part of that was when the girl who (I’m told) is a really cool journalist expressed that she’d had some difficulties with her class. People then appeared (to me, not knowing the language) to be berating her and giving her “encouragement” on how to not suck so much. (Again, just my impression.) She looked like she was going to cry. I just appreciated the idea that someone telling the truth about her experience got jumped on like meat in a tiger pit for not having a warm fuzzy moment.

In the gaps between lunch and classes and between classes and waiting for our bus to leave, there were piles of kids wanting autographs from all these volunteers (not just Holly and me). It was ridiculous and stupid. For a while we signed some things, Holly and I sending messages to each other on the pages we signed for each kid, but it was endless. And I hated the dynamic of that so much. This faux-rock star thing. Just like the banners and the honourific speeches (which you might remember I dealt with on a trip to the country back in the day). The supplication and demanding something that wouldn’t actually be at all useful for them. “There’s no reason for this!” I wanted to grab kids and yell.

Holly and I agreed to stop signing stuff but still had mobs. Holly could laugh it off when one boy tried to get an autograph out of her by saying “We’re so poor though!” but I didn’t even have the language to tell them what the problem was. I hated the not signing things too. Just all over I detest that power dynamic.

On the ride back to Nanchong Holly and I read chapters of Matilda to each other. That doesn’t have anything to do with anything, but it was my favourite part of the day.

Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

like the ocean

The noise from the school next to Holly’s apartment is impressive in the morning. Holly had to leave early to get her lessons ready but she warned me. “I hope you have good headphones if you want to get any work done. It’s loud. They start at 8.” And it’s not that I didn’t believe her. She’s been telling me about the school noise for months, because it’s something I didn’t experience when I was here in the summer.

This morning I was buried under blankets when the noise began to build. It wasn’t so much dread inducing as how I imagine surfing must be like. You see the wave coming and I guess if you’re good at it you can tell what kind of wave it’ll be and how best to ride it, but I was out paddling on my board doing my best seal-impression for the sharks below, seeing something build and guessing. Is this it? How big will it get? Will I be able to handle it or am I going to be the shmuck who dies on his first attempt.

The school noise wasn’t that bad (I didn’t feel like I was going to die, and managed to get a good chunk of work done without good headphones), but it did keep on building and building until it stopped for a megaphoned voice to harangue people. Maybe it’s just because it’s Monday and this was the traditional week-beginning assembly or something, but the voice went on for an hour. After they all sang the national anthem, whose tune I realized I still could sort of remember from back in Wanzhou.

Even now (it’s about 10am) the kids are basically just white noise of shouting and boisterousness. It’s one of the shouting (or electronically amplified) teachers exhorting his students that really cuts through. He sounds a little like a hoarse host of a Japanese talk show, you know with all of that fake wacky energy? But it sounds like his class is responding so who am I to judge. Just a lousy ex-teacher who’s sitting in bed writing.

Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , ,

children

Today, walking home from work, a child on my block said “Hello!” She’s small and blonde and was wearing a bike helmet in completely unkempt fashion. I said hello back and she scowled at me. As I walked past she regrouped and yelled “What are you doing?” Over my shoulder I called “I’m going home.” My answer only deepened her scowl. I don’t know why she disliked me so.

And yesterday while I was making some tea I looked out into our back lane and saw a ten year old boy pissing on a heap of garbage while his friend waited. A car drove down the lane but he couldn’t stop and just tried to keep his back to the vehicle. Then they ran off.

Last night after I’d left excitement occurred at work. Two boys, who’d been on the computers suddenly got into a fight. Not a fight, a beating. My coworkers tried to hold the beating one back but a rage filled 12 year old can often shake off us bookish folk. So they were kicked out after a lot of swearing. Evidently they’re cousins and the beatee had “stolen” the beater’s PIN for the computers. So there was that.

And then one of the 11 year olds who’s banned from the premises till October came in and wouldn’t leave when my coworkers told her to. And then she was running and yelling and throwing books on the floor and hanging up the phone as our boss phoned the cops. So now we’ve got a security guard to guard us from her wrath.

Tagged , , , , , , ,

the fair (day 8)

One of the most American things Sean and I did on our trip through the west was go to the Puyallup (pronounced “pyu-WALL-up”) Fair with Scott and Emily. It’s the largest state fair in some amount of area and is one of the town’s big touristic draws. As an illustration of how big it is, the website for this fair is thefair.com. They’re big enough to get a domain name that makes them the archetypal fair for a random internet searcher. I suppose fair.com would techincally be even better but it looks like squatters have that domain. Ah, here’s some info from the About Us page:

The Puyallup Fair (officially known as the Western Washington Fair) is the largest single attraction held annually in the state of Washington. The Fair continually ranks in the top ten largest fairs in the world… Situated south of Seattle and east of Tacoma in the shadow of majestic Mount Rainier, the Fair & Events Center comprises 169+ acres, with buildings and land valued at more than $54 million. The facilities are available for rent during the year, making the grounds a valuable community resource. A staff of 55 works year-round. Over 1,900+ employees are hired each September during the Puyallup Fair.

It was pretty huge and filled with animals, gawpers and, well, Fair Folk.

The day we were there, a sunny Saturday which sunburned my neck from at least one direction, the 4H competition for showing cats was happening. There were two big halls filled with decorated cages and their cats sleeping inside. The cages were gussied up according to different themes, like “Pirates” or “A Turkish Harem.” Kids were roaming around waiting to be called up to present their cat to judges, to show off its attributes and answer questions about it. Why cats? A helpful informative sign informed the fair-goer that it was to give kids whose families couldn’t invest in large livestock the chance to learn about animal husbandry. There were people off riding their horses doing vaguely the same thing in a nearby barn, but the cats man, the cats. We sat in the stands for a while and Sean was chatting with a woman who had two kids showing off their cats. Sean gave some applause to her son and was promptly shushed by other non-related cat-parents. We settled for being the weird strangers giving this lady’s kids thumbs up whenever they looked at their mom.

Emily had told me that Funnel Cake is the best fair food so we spent much of our time searching for the elusive beast. While searching we stumbled upon a painfully sad animal show (Mad About Monkeys), cribbage exhibitions, scarecrows, the Republican Party booth, a human cannonball act (oh but he was a showman though), the midway, chainsaw carved wooden bears and Mutton Busting.

Oh Mutton Busting, the cruellest sport. “The Toughest Sport on Wool” they called it. The premise is simple: A child no more than 6 years old and no more than 60lbs is given a helmet and protective vest. The child is put on the back of a sheep and told to hang on as tight as she can. The sheep is released to run terrified across the earth and if the child hangs on for 8 seconds, hooray. None of the (28!) children we saw made it 8 seconds. There were three year olds whose parents agreed to this, not only agreed, but paid to give their child the opportunity for pain and humiliation of jerks laughing their asses as they faceplanted into the ground. The announcer made a big deal of how no child was forced to do anything they didn’t want to do, and any child too small would be picked off the sheep before they could fall (we were instructed to cheer extra hard for those kids so they wouldn’t feel like failures), but everything I heard seemed to go something along the lines of “Okay now we’ve got Janey who’s 5 years old and 47lbs soaking wet and… what’s this? She doesn’t really want to do this? Oh no, but her dad says she’ll be okay. And she’s off!” Twenty-eight kids did this. That’s 56 signatures from parents. It was insane. The best mutton buster got the chance to compete that night for a belt buckle in the big rodeo, but parents could buy a buckle if the kid didn’t win too.

We did eventually find Funnel Cake which I enjoyed. It was just deep-fried dough, but when have I ever disliked deep-fried dough? By the end I think it was a more enjoyable diversion than going to the Huskies game would have been, especially given the agonizing way they lost to BYU.

Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

the best of my generation abandon their dreams

The other day I had a short interview with a company about going off to teach in Japan. Just a preliminary thing before they finalize my application. And it actually freaked me out. Not on the phone, on the phone I was all laughs and amiability. But afterwards all the lying I had just done made me want to vomit. The woman asked if I’d be comfortable teaching kids and I said yes. Little kids. As young as three. I remember Mel and Margaret having to teach little Chinese kids and Caroline talking about the Korean kids and the hellishness of it. And I remember thanking all that was good in the world I didn’t have to do that. And she asked about my energy levels in the class, how I’d feel being all bouncing around silly and shit. “Oh that sounds fun!” Would I be okay with being clean shaven and wearing a suit? “You bet!” Because swearing off ties 5.5 years ago doesn’t mean anything.

Why do I have to lie? Because I know if I tell the truth no one will pay me to go anywhere. And I’ll be stuck here in this place I don’t like. But it’s not like I actively hate anything I do here. Maybe I shouldn’t sell myself off like this. Maybe I should remember how much I didn’t like teaching. Maybe I should go to Japan on my own terms, in a way I don’t have to lie and hate myself for doing all that. Do this the hard way. Like the writing.

I worry though that if I do that I’m falling into the “once in a lifetime” trap. That then going off somewhere on the other side of the world becomes something strange and exciting instead of just part of my life. But if part of my life involves that much deception and self loathing, ech. I don’t want to feel trapped here, that Winnipeg is all I’ll ever know. I need to be different places. Being in China this last time made me feel content, and I’ve been wanting to push on to work in Japan because of that contentment. But I was in China as a travelling layabout. A person without work or schedule. That’s not what teaching would be, no matter how many weeks of vacation I got.

I don’t know. I’m not withdrawing my application but I don’t know if I can go lie my face off as a fake-smiling teacher just to be somewhere else. I already feel like I’m hiding all the time. We’ll see what happens.

Tagged , , , , , , , , , ,
Follow

Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.

Join 330 other followers