Don't Hate the Game!

In case you didn't notice, it's World Cup 2014. 

I'm not a big soccer fan, but I'm excited about the World Cup. Call me a fair weather fan if you will (this is your only chance - you'll never get the opportunity to say that about my support of the Wings or the Tigers), but it's hard not to be excited by an event like this. I was in Italy for the last World Cup series, and seriously, what college-aged girl wouldn't be intrigued by this?:

 In all seriousness, this is a great event. Everyone's wearing jerseys from their favorite teams, little kids are running around the parks with soccer balls that are half as big as they are, and the bars are full of enthusiasts. I work in a restaurant that attracts a lot of tourists, and you would not believe all of the places that these people come from - and it's never so easy to strike up a conversation with them as it is when their country's team is on TV. Just the other day, I got a great big hug from an Australian for answering his call of "Aussie Aussie Aussie!" Just yesterday, I was reprimanded for not cheering for Mexico loudly enough. People from all over the world are sitting at the bar together, talking together, drinking together, and, in the case of the Mexicans and Brazilians yesterday, making jabs at each other. 

Not everyone is so impressed, though. I came home from work last night and hopped on Facebook to poke around and see what the virtual world was up to. One of my Facebook friends had posted a news article about forcible evictions in Brazil for the World Cup, and followed up the post with a tirade against the event, everyone partaking, and everyone enjoying the mayhem, complete with hashtags such as #fuckFIFA. This was followed by a status that read "Pretty much when I read a #fifa status. All ur saying to me is I don't give a shit about the suffering of people and I want to support the taxes and killings by continuing to watch." 

First off, grammar. Please use it correctly before you accuse others of being stupid and provincial. Secondly, educate yourself about the entire situation, not just one aspect of it. Now, I'm not saying that forcible evictions are okay, nor should they be. But let's look at some other aspects of what's going on in Brazil. 

FIFA announced that Brazil would host the 2014 World Cup in 2007. That was seven years ago. This did not sneak up on people. This also is not the first major event that Brazil has hosted in the last few years: just last year, Rio was home to the World Youth Day celebrations, which brought over three million pilgrims to Brazil. The event, in addition to being a major pilgrimage for Catholic youth world wide, was largely considered a "trial run" for the World Cup. Does anyone really think that there wasn't some house cleaning going on for that event? 

Another thing we might want to consider in looking at this is the amount of revenue an event such as World Youth Day in 2013, the World Cup in 2014, and, in the future, the Olympics in 2016 will bring into the country. This article has a good breakdown of how the financial situation, especially taxes, stands on the international level: 
http://www.forbes.com/sites/kellyphillipserb/2014/06/16/world-cup-mania-figuring-out-fifa-soccer-tax/

International finances aside, these events will create jobs: someone needs to build the facilities, maintain the facilities, make sure the facilities are secure, direct event goers, sell snacks and giant foam fingers, and then come in and clean it all up. These events will also bolster other areas of the economy: people are pouring into the country looking for hotel rooms; these same people will need restaurants to eat in; they will also need t-shirts that read "My mom went to Brazil and all I got was this stupid t-shirt" to take home to the kids. Let us not forget that these people will be paying taxes on these goods and services (unlike FIFA, tourists are not tax exempt). 

I would never say that people are collateral, and I don't advocate forcibly evicting people from their homes. I merely stand to point out that the issue is not as simple as the government throwing people into the gutters for no good reason. Yes, there could have been a better way to deal with that situation. Yes, I believe that they should have found one. However, that was not FIFA's doing, that was Brazil's. No, it is not the fault of the 3.5 billion soccer fans on the globe. Perhaps most importantly, no, your passive aggressive Facebook posts are not going to help those people, especially when you are willing to overlook the same problem in your own country, often for reasons less than three major international collaborative events. 

I say our response to this should be threefold. First and foremost, we need to educate ourselves about the situation. Forcible evictions occur in the United States all the time, and not just because people fall behind on rent. Secondly, we need to take the action we can. Those of us that are registered to vote in the United States need, and I would say have an obligation, to exercise our right to take political action against things that we believe to be unjust. Brazil may be getting all the news cycles right now, but does that make Joe Schmo who lives in the building down the street any less important? We can take action immediately here - we can't in Brazil, given that we are not, legally or politically, able to do so. Thirdly, we need to place the blame where it belongs and hold that entity accountable. The guy sitting at the bar yelling "Oy Vey!" when Mexico missed that shot didn't force people out of their homes at gunpoint. Let's not pretend that he did. 

Let's go Team USA!

The Importance of Being Ceremonious

It's graduation time! Exams are a thing of the (recent) past, families are coming into town, and the very smart sophomores and juniors are moving off-campus before the Commencement Craziness comes into being. My alma mater is preparing to send off its most recent batch of professional hopefuls into the world, among them several of my friends. 

It should be exciting: planning out the perfect outfit to wear, which no one will see because it's hidden under your gown; figuring out how to do your hair so that it doesn't puff out perpendicular to your head when you put your cap on; making reservations at a nice restaurant so your family can celebrate with you. You're joining the proud ranks of people who have busted their asses to prove that they can, in fact, make it at anything they so choose. If anything should thrill you, it should be that.

Except, apparently, it doesn't.

I was talking to one of my friends graduating this weekend, and she complained that the commencement ceremony would last "ninety whole minutes. Why does it have to be so long?" My answer was, "Stop complaining, this is a good day for you." My friend's response: "Yeah yeah." 

But really. Come on. Aside from the very practical reason that there are about four hundred people that need to walk across the stage and shake hands with the president of the university, you earned this! It's the one moment in the last four years that the faculty come together and says, "Yes, I know you put forth the effort. Yes, I know that wasn't easy. And yes, you did well." We can't even chalk my friend's response up to a 'Cs get degrees' mentality, because this particular friend is graduating Summa Cum Laude and has been accepted to a really good Master's program at a school out east. That's more impressive than it sounds: I graduated Magna Cum Laude and didn't get into a single graduate program that I applied to, let alone to a school that excels in the field that I want to go into. 

So what's the deal? Why is it an obligation to accept what you've earned? I should add, this conversation came after this same friend spent six hours trying to change the formatting of something on the computer. So, six hours on something like that is okay, but an hour and a half of other people recognizing your work is a pain in the butt? 

There seems to be a lack of appreciation for ceremony nowadays. Even in the professional fields, the tendency is toward informality: bosses try to be buddies with their employees, dress codes are changing to be more informal, even events that used to be elegant, like the prom or weddings, are coming to be just parties with expensive dresses. I know exactly where it comes from, and I'm not going to complain about it. It comes from the idea that no one is any better than anyone else, and so we should all act the same all the time. Personally, I think this is a load of baloney, and it's what academics call negative equalization, but that seems to be what makes people happy. So go for it. 

But what I think we should remember is this: ceremony helps us to remember what's important. We don't have huge ceremonies for passing your first exam. We don't have ceremonies to celebrate a first date. We don't have ceremonies to recognize that someone did the dishes or folded the laundry or got out of bed and acted like a person that day. And we shouldn't, because those are everyday things. We have ceremonies for passing all of your exams. We have ceremonies for people who turned their first date into a lifelong commitment. We have ceremonies for when people show exceptional humanity. We celebrate things like this because we should. These are the things that help us, as human beings, make it through. These are the things that separate us from the beasts. These are the things that keep us together, that keep society moving forward, and that keep people alive. This is why we have ceremony: because it's important. 

So as you're sitting in your own graduation ceremony, or that of your child, or that of your sibling or friend or significant other, keep this in mind when your butt is sore (which, if it is after ninety minutes, you're an exceptional person) and you can't wait to take off your tie and change into sweatpants: there's a reason that this is such a big deal.

I'm Somewhere Between a Snake and a Mongoose...and Dwight.

My roommate and I are both in that place in life that old people tell us is 'oh so exciting': the point where we have to figure out what to do with our lives. Reality: this is terrifying.

Recently, we had a conversation about jobs postings. Almost every job that I look at 'requires' at least one year of experience in the field, and all of the jobs she's looking at 'require' at least five years experience in the field and a Masters degree. So much for being entry-level. While commiserating over the difficulties of finding jobs that we're 'qualified' for and the frustration at being rejected when we 'don't have enough experience' to take an entry-level position, I said that if I could just get into a room with these people, and sit down for an interview, I could prove to them that I am capable of doing that job. "Besides," I added, "I think every job is a little like working as a cashier. After a while, you know the ins and outs and it's all just another day at the office." At the time, I was thinking about my job in the store, which I was afraid to try at first. I was afraid of being off on my register; I didn't know the store; I didn't know the product; I had to answer phones; I had to deal with people I didn't know, and worse, be nice to them; the list went on and on and on. Fortunately, my need for money outweighed my irrational fear of being a miserable cashier, and I took the job, which is now boring me out of my mind. A few days later, my roommate looked at me and said, "You know, I think you're right."

Everyone knows that most of us are afraid of trying new things because we're afraid of failure. None of us like to look stupid, or feel like we look stupid (two very different things, I might add), and that's okay. That's the attitude that sparks us to try a little harder and do a little better each time around. However, I have another, shall we say, additional theory: we're afraid to try new things because we're afraid of being Dwight.

My roommate is an avid watcher of The Office, and, I have to admit, I'm hooked. Interestingly, I didn't think it was all that funny until I started paying more attention to how the workplace functions and how the people interact. My place of business definitely has a Michael, the boss who has sort-of control because he gets an awful lot of help; we have a Jim, the competent one who actually knows what's going on; we have a Pam, who works all day and goes home at night to hone her artistic talent, which very few people are privileged enough to know about; and, most often, we have several Dwights running around.

Dwight is the character that makes the TV show possible. In the real workplace, however, a character like that is downright obnoxious. Upon reflection, we all have a little bit of Dwight in us. Some of us more than others. And yes, I am willing to admit to my inner Dwight. In fact, my inner Dwight was probably what was inhibiting my ability to make life decisions for several months.

We all know what Dwight's like, and, quite frankly, it's ridiculous. I'm willing to bet that most of us would read my claim that we all have an inner Dwight and immediately say, "Not me!"

Yes, you.

Think about it: we all want a little attention from the big cheese; we all have the urge to toot our own horns in order to get the attention of the big cheese; on occasion, we all have the desire to put someone else down in order to make our accomplishments look better. We probably all have something roughly equivalent in quirk to Dwight's beet farm in our lives as well.

So here's my question: why? Why can we not be satisfied with a job well done? With doing a job to the best of our abilities? Why can't we admit that someone else is better at something than we are, or that perhaps it's not worth the trouble to make ourselves look good in comparison to others? I can think of two possible answers: 'Money' or 'We've all had this morality lesson.' Either is a valid answer, although one is more disheartening than the other. And that would be the latter.

If we've all had that lesson, why didn't we learn it? And why is it okay for us to ignore it if we have learned it? Perhaps most importantly, why can't we acknowledge that, every once in a while, we fail to live up to our own expectations of ourselves?

While I don't condone donning our volunteer sheriff uniforms in order to smoke out whoever left their cigarette butts in the parking lot, I think it might be good if we all took a step back and not only acknowledged our inner Dwight, but took a lesson from the real Dwight. When we acknowledge our Dwight moments, we should say to ourselves: "Do I regret this? No. I believe [admitting to the situation] has made me stronger." We now have the strength to not only admit to and learn from our mistakes, but make ourselves better people as a result of them as well.

A Little Optimism Never Hurt Anybody

I recently had a conversation with someone that I hadn't seen in a while - a long while - and, quite frankly, I was unpleasantly surprised with his fatalism. He was incredibly well versed in every social evil that has ever happened, ever, in the history of forever. As the conversation went on, I challenged him with a question that my father and his straightforward, engineering-styled mindset introduced me to and that my Jesuit education reinforced and brought to the forefront: "What do you propose?" In other words, "What exactly do you plan on doing about it?"

If I was disappointed by his choice in conversational topic, I was even more disappointed my his answer: he gave me a long, drawn-out, convoluted answer that essentially added up to "I haven't the foggiest idea." He ended his monologue by saying, "We, of course, should pray for the situation."

Argle.

Don't get me wrong, I appreciate the power of prayer. I'm a believing, practicing Catholic, and throughout my life, I have seen firsthand the power that prayer holds. The thing is, I've seen the power of prayer enough to know that it itself does nothing for a situation. Now, before you get all riled and accuse me of being a false believer (parenthetically, I don't believe in judging what another person holds in their heart, but I suppose that's between you and God), let me explain what I mean here.

The great Catholic theologian and beloved children's author C.S. Lewis once said that prayer "doesn't change God - it changes me." From what I've seen, this is exactly the case. A person prays about a situation, and God grants them the tools they need to do something about the situation. God, however, does not fix the situation from on high. God fixes the situation by putting you here and giving you the tools you need to do something.

While I appreciate prayer, and pray regularly, and would never criticize a person for praying, I will say that thinking that prayer will change the situation - and not the self - is detrimental to both the individual and to larger society. Praying that better vaccinations come along isn't going to make better vaccinations come along; it's going to give us the gumption we need to lobby medical research labs to do the work to find a better vaccination. Praying isn't going to stop the drug trade; it's going to give us the nerve to fight back against a force that's working to hurt our children and our families.

Once we understand that prayer drives us to do, we can see why the fatalism that my conversation partner displayed was, to be frank, completely uncalled for. He literally predicted the fall of society - the entire world society, not just American society - as a result of the failure of the family. My question: Has the family failed? Yes, I understand that there are bad and even terrible family situations. Yes, I understand that government has a long way to go before we get to the point of being able to care for the people who need it most. Yes, I understand that children are in high security prisons because they didn't have a parental figure there to sit them down and tell them 'No.' I understand all of this. I am not an ostrich, burying my head in the sand.

However, I also see people - young people - who have happy marriages, happy children, and happy homes. I know more than one couple where a child was born out of wedlock and someone else stepped in and willingly became a parental figure to a child that was not their own. I see couples who are bending over backwards and giving everything they have to save a marriage that has become strained. Most of all, I see all of this happening under the ever-present and judging eye of people who say that the nuclear family has failed. Most of these couples that I see are from my own Catholic community - so I have to believe they pray. Knowing that these people pray and that God didn't rain down happiness sprinkles on them serves, I think, to prove my point: through prayer, God gives us the power to do something, but only if we aren't so fatalistic that we give up on the whole venture.

My third and last point is this: I think prayer is by nature an optimistic practice. I do not believe that a person with no hope for anything prays. I do not believe that hopelessness leads to prayer. I do not think that a person can simultaneously believe that society is going to hell in a handbasket (which should have happened repeatedly by now, if fatalists were correct) and pray that things get better.

I think that prayer is the action of hope, and that through hoping for change and praying for the strength to achieve it, that change is, in fact, realized.

Trying to Try

I haven't written much for the past few months. In fact, when I logged in tonight, my blog told me that my last post was in October. The reason is simple: I was in a bad place.

When I started writing this blog, it wasn't necessarily to get my thoughts and opinions through to others; it was more that I just needed to get them out of my head. It took an unexpected turn when I started ranting about all the irksome things that I have to put up with at work. In these past few months, though, I've been doing some thinking. Not thinking about others or what is annoying or how we can improve as a society. I started thinking about me. 

I graduated from college last May and immediately found myself over educated and underemployed. With the best education that money and three years worth of sleepless nights holed up in the library can buy, I was stuck working as a part-time cashier in a shop. This was all the more frustrating when I remembered how I used to roll my eyes at one of my high school teachers who always prayed for the 'unemployed and under employed' during morning prayer. No matter what I did, I couldn't find a job better suited to my skill set (and I still haven't, but we'll get there). And that's when it all started to go downhill. 

I got frustrated at everything. Just read some of my older posts to see what fights I picked, and judge for yourself how eager I was to find something wrong. 

I stopped reading. There was a solid two-month stretch where I didn't touch a book. I listed to my iPod when I was riding on the el, and I left the book I was in the middle of sitting unopened on the nightstand. I know that for some people, this might sound heavenly, and they would have no idea why I'm listing that as proof that I was in a bad rut. The thing is, literature is my passion. I have a degree in literature, for Pete's sake. I've dedicated the last few years of my life to studying literature and the relationship that people have to it. For me, it was like running full-tilt and then stopping dead in my tracks. It was a violent thing for me. 

I wasn't talking to people. I had my roommate, who was always there, but other than her, I didn't talk to very many people outside of work. Which made her my go-to vent-ee and my job the center of my life. This is never a healthy place, especially if you don't like your job or harbor some sort of resentment toward it, like I did. 

The absolute worst thing I did was turn to Pinterest. Don't get me wrong, I love wasting time on Pinterest as much as the next person. The problem was, I was looking at motivational quotes. I realized that I wasn't in a good place, and I was looking for something to pull me out of it. If those quotes motivate people, that's great. There's no telling where the motivation to break out of a rut will come from. The problem for me, though, was that all those stupid pins made it sound so easy. "Change your thoughts and change the world." "You're the one holding yourself back. Just let go." Or, my personal favorite, "Let go and let God." 

As if it was that easy.

And reading all those stupid quotes, and listening to people give you pep talks, and trying to figure out what the heck "let it all go" means just makes the whole thing worse. This is the realization that I've come to: How you think is how you are. (Yes, that's grammatically correct; 'are' is being used in the sense of existence). So, if you have to change your thoughts, you have to change who and what you are. Once you're in the rut of thinking that you're not talented, that you're not smart, that you're not any different from anyone else out there, that there's nothing that sets you apart, how do you start to think differently? 

I've started to sort it all out, and I've started to get back on track, but it's not easy. And letting people think that it is easy is probably the worst thing we can do for the people who are going through something like this. I know that a lot of people would hear this story and think "She's over reacting. We've all had sucky jobs, it's not that depressing." The thing is, for me it was. I did my best to hide it, because that's what people do. But that's not easy either. The point is, there is no easy way to go. Anyone who tells you otherwise is either lying or has had everything given to them. God doesn't come down from on high and give you anything; He gives you road signs along the way and, if you're lucky, a great big kick in the pants. 

I guess what I'm getting at is that we shouldn't write people off as being wimps or as not having as difficult a time as you. More importantly, we should write ourselves off. No, having a bad job might not have been the worst thing that could ever happen to me, but it sure as heck wasn't the best, either. It might not be as difficult as some things, but it is mentally and emotionally trying. And when that happens to us, we need to learn how to try all over again.