This Reminds Me

Archive for September, 2009

Monday, I celebrate 30 years at AT&T.  People are losing bets all over Houston, where I started.

5’11″ no more….Hannah is taller than me now.  And as for 150….well, maybe in each thigh…..  Here’s what I look like now.

For my corporate anniversary gift, I chose diamond-crusted bling .

I love the big analog dial.  I can read it!

Very early in my career, I read three op-ed pieces in the Wall Street Journal that influenced me greatly.

First, I read a piece by Peter Drucker (the father of modern management, we learned at UH) that espoused co-workers had taken the place of neighbors.  He advocated human investment in the work place – to remember we were really people – neighbors, as it were.

The Ones to Call On:  Dennis – creator of the “Disbursement Family Feeling” – and long-suffering Vicki, who tolerated many  jokes and jolts in the 9051 Parkwest neighborhood.  I’m glad we’re all three still virtual neighbors.

Second, I read the results of a decades-long study that concluded children with two parents who worked outside the home were no more or less happy and productive than children with one parent working outside the home, providing a single critical condition was met:  Mom had to be happy at work.  If Mom wasn’t happy, nobody was happy.

Mom Lisa – who helped get blood donors at work for me and preemie Lois – has always been the best at finding something in which to rejoice.

Finally, I read an article that basically said, “You can’t do everything for or with your kids.  Find what is most important to them – do that – and don’t stress about the rest.”  Easy to say.  Hard to do.  But I’ve tried.

Early on, I noticed Mom-friends like Konen planning wonderful family beach vacations, baking for the school, etc.  Konen taught Vicki how to curse,  me how to be a gracious winner and everyone else how to quilt.   She claims no credit for imparting my mad fashion skills, like wearing vintage political campaign buttons (William Howard Taft with campaign ribbon shown here.)

The 1986 set of 40th birthday nails I painted in Konen’s honor bemused her.

Here’s what 30 years at AT&T has taught me.  Don’t expect to view this litany in the Wall Street Journal, as I did those three influential articles

1.  The 70′s divas were wrong.  You can not have it all.

When I graduated college, I  passionately embraced the feminist mantra of “You can have it all.”  I could birth or adopt brilliant children with naturally straight teeth, sprint the corporate ladder with book-smart ease, enjoy  leadership positions in a dozen community organizations, grow spiritually and support my church piously, whip up gourmet meals effortlessly every night – all while completing my MBA in my spare time.  Nothing could stop me.  Except,  of course, reality.

2.  It all has to balance, but family rules.

It is very, very tough to keep work life and home life balanced.  How late do you stay when your kids expect you to not only eat dinner with them but also to cook it?  And what’s more - you want to.

When Rachel was seven years old, she contracted a rare case of strep throat.   On the way home from the pedi, we had to pass the office….so I thought just a few minutes to check e-mail…..next thing I knew, it’d been a hour and Rachel was asleep on the floor of my cubby with give-away T-shirts cradling her feverish head.   I was disgusted with myself.  What was the matter with me?  I coded vacation, scooped her up and hurried home.  And never forgotten it.

You do your job.  You do it well.  But the job isn’t life.

3.  If you can’t be with the ones you love – love the ones you’re with.

I’ve often been uprooted from jobs, people – even a city – I really liked.  The strange thing:  There’s always been somebody good on the other side.    I would have missed meeting some really neat people if I hadn’t moved around – voluntarily or involuntarily.  My closest friends – the ones who have embraced me at my lowest – started out as work buddies.

4.  Have fun when you can.  Because you can’t always.

Look for the fun.  Take the fun.  Make the fun.  Be the fun.  While you can.

Looking for more bars in more places:  Dancin’ in the Dark with the Station 90.51 crew – Natalie, Me, Gaye, Tim & Linda

Reach Out and Touch Someone:  “Ghostbusters” debuted  while we were preparing for Divestiture.  My unit danced through the building in our hand-decorated T-shirts, jam-boxing the movie’s theme song and handing out candy on Halloween. For Christmas, we stuffed pantyhose with wadded paper, affixed a pair to each of our heads like reindeer antlers and shared candy canes.

Our units gathered for doughnuts when Natalie snipped my hot pink rat tail before I interviewed for the Rotary trip to India.   My rat tail matched my eye-scorching pink jellies and florescent pink tie – which my boss Vicki endured with raised eyebrows and a bitten tongue. That’s Margaret looking on fearfully, probably afraid I’d leave the dyed locks on her desk, like “someone” left (and photographed) the Baby Ruth in the women’s room to taunt that month’s beleaguered “Quality of Work Life” manager.

I had to be at the Astrodome for a promotion anyway….so why shouldn’t Rachel and Lois run the bases?!  Rachel also fondly remembers my pulling her out of school early for us to go “check the signage” at SBC’s “Race to the Red Planet” promotion at Space Center Houston in 1998.  She also flipped the symbolic light switch at Uptown Holiday Lighting in 1996.  And clapped for Byonce and Destiny’s Child at the Southwestern Bell African American Arts Festival.  Big fun!

5.  Do what you have to do when you have to do it.

There is never a convenient time to have or adopt a baby.  Or take vacation.  Or visit with extended family.  Or attend a funeral – as I failed to do for Judy’s  father-in-law on a Saturday afternoon when I thought SBC would crumble if I didn’t supervise cleaning up a payroll mess.  What an idiot.

6.  If you’ve not had your time in the barrel – you will.

Everyone has an “off” time at work.  If it’s not happened to you yet – it will.  Sales declines.  Monthly close bombs.  Grievances.  Outsourcing.  Health problems.  Significant issues at home.  Whatevah, baby.  It will happen.

7.  Even when things aren’t so great – take deep breaths – you don’t know what’s around the corner.

In 1984, I truly thought working on Outside Plant Divestiture would be the “biggest thing” in my career.

I worked every day from early August 1983 to mid-January 1984 with two days off – Thanksgiving and Christmas – thanks to Divestiture, Hurricane Alicia, late September flooding and a three-week labor stoppage.

Well, in 1987, I represented Southwestern Bell with Rotary in India for six weeks and even spoke to a crowd of 5,000.  “Well, that’s it.  That’s the big one.”  I thought.

Enterprise magazine featuring my favorite photo

In 1991, I politicked hard to be sent to do stories and a photo shoot on the combined Bell forces working Hurricane Andrew restoration.   Got it!  Multiple telcos ran my stories and photos.  “Wow, that’s it,” I thought.  “It’s all downhill from here.”  I could have stayed in Employee Information for many more years.  I loved it – my favorite job of all time -  but later came sports and events marketing, and I loved that, too.  And then launching up2speed in 2001 – my baby.  Plenty of jobs between all this stuff but finally -  U-verse.

U-verse has been the bomb.  It’s the culmination of everything I read more than 30 years ago, when I was slugging through books and magazines for the owner of Remco TV Rental.  Not every day is a picnic, and I don’t know what’s after U-verse – but I know the potential for something good is out there.

We may have been the only Comptrollers  Section Staff  in town, but we tried not to act like it.

The potential for something good has always been there.

This has been my 30 years – my career to date.  Delivered.

Grandparents Day is tomorrow (Sunday), 9/12 – a holiday  popularized in recent years.  Our elementary school celebrates the Friday before.  Until this year, Keith’s parents have always been on vacation in September.  So – much to Julia’s delight – they drove in from Houston to be honored at the school with orange juice, mini-muffins and a review of her assigned project.

The students could create any “thing” they wanted to honor their grandparents.  Some wrote songs, essays or poems; some built PowerPoints; some drew elaborate pictures and appended explanatory text.  With Rachel’s guidance*, Julia created a tote bag.  Why a tote bag?  Well, because Jim and Rosalie are usually on vacation at this time, and tote bags are handy for the car.

I thought this bag was so cute, I didn’t even mind its paint splattered on   Julia’s  only-worn-it-once yellow shirt.  I put the shirt aside for “mud night” at children’s camp next year – she can throw it away rather than bring it home.

Jim and Rosalie are now on their way back home to Houston – with the bag.  It was a gift, you see – like their coming here.

Happy Grandparents Day!

* If your house doesn’t have a Rachel-who-is-good-with-crafts, you really need to pick one up.  I think they’re at Hobby Lobby, between the Styrofoam balls and the glitter pens.

I notice big differences in the perceptions and actions of people that have  adopted children.

If the child was adopted domestically and looks like the parents, “passing” seems to be most common.  Adoption seldom enters the conversation.   It’s seldom a “secret.”  But it’s not advertised.

If the child was adopted internationally, or if the child doesn’t look like the parents, then the level of investment in the adoption seems to be governed by the presence of bio children.   Parents – particularly mothers – of these adopted kids with no bios seem to focus more on the attribute of adoption itself.    They don’t merely feed their kids.   If their kids were adopted from Russia, they scour the user boards for Russian recipes.     If their kids were adopted from China, they have adorable silken garments to wear for Chinese New Year.  If their kids are of a different race,  they rush to deify leaders of that race.

But if the child was adopted internationally – and/or if the child doesn’t look like the parents – and there are bio kids in the family, “blending” seems to be more the norm.  And because we blend, maybe we seem like we don’t care enough – whatever “enough” is.

Look what I found on Julia’s desk at Parent’s Night tonight.    She’s proud of being adopted.   Good thing, since we’re also proud of her.

I remember the judge in St. Petersburg asking me, “How will you be able to give enough attention to this child when you already have three children?” and my replying, “Those three children will make her life richer.  She will never lack for attention.”  And that’s been true.   Rachel, Lois and Hannah have had every bit as much to do with Julia’s acclimation and attachment as have Keith and I.

But because those three children were already here, there are lots of things we just don’t do.  Yes, yes, I took the advice of the adoption experts and scattered Russian stuffola around the house.  We hang a Russian flag for Sister’s Day.  We have somber icons on the mantle, colorful photos on the walls and decorated eggs on the bookshelves.  In fact, just this week I made Julia a collage of herself in Russia to decorate her room.

The girls’ rooms are very expressive.   Keith and I don’t much care what they tack up as long as it’s not vulgar.  We figure we’ll paint when they leave.

But our lives aren’t centered around adoption, or Russia.  We don’t belong to a single adoption support group.  (User boards?  Yes.  But there’s only one I visit regularly now, and not every day.)    We don’t cook Russian food because we typically cook what the whole family likes and makes good leftovers for lunches.    We don’t seek out Russian cultural events, of which there’d be darned few in San Antonio anyway.  Julia doesn’t own a single piece of Russian-themed clothing – and I honestly don’t think she’d wear it if she did, she’s so picky about her clothes, none of which includes a ruffle, ribbon or bow.  We’ve been invited to countless adoption-themed ministry events at different churches and – unless I was working a table for Buckner (our agency) - haven’t attended any.

I worry less about our integration of all things Russian than I do about the blending of six day-to-day lives in America.  Julia’s wanted to play soccer, but we can’t make the times work with our two full-time jobs – it’s hard to say “no,” though I told Hannah that, too, about swim team.   Julia would like to come home on the bus instead of going to the after-school program, but again, not an option for her….or for Rachel, Lois or Hannah at the same ages.

Our dinner table rocks with constant bantering.  Over spaghetti, or hamburgers, or chicken pot pie – not borscht.   With big glasses of cold water – not hot tea.   And while we wear T-shirts and shorts – not tunics and flouncy skirts.

We talk about Russia, sure – but usually, it’s Keith or me that brings it up.  I expect Julia to be insanely interested in Russia when she’s older, and when she is, we have papers, pictures and gifts for her.  We’ve even talked vaguely of re-visiting St. Pete when she’s a teen.  But today, she cares more about playing swords in the cul-de-sac with the neighbor kids.   And in the meantime….Rachel’s started college and has a job.  Lois is carrying a super-heavy load in high school and pondering the fate of the Latin Club.  Hannah is creating an eco-system project and anxious about advanced choir.

If Julia was “the only one” – I’m sure we’d celebrate Victory Day, drive to the nearest Russian Orthodox church every Sunday (it’s in Houston, BTW) and slurp vodka every night.   But she’s not.  We swirl in a blender of activities.

We don’t deny where she was.  But we also know where she is.  And who she’s with.  And what everyone is doing.  And it’s all gotta blend.