Singular

It seems like the Christmas decorations have just been put away and yet the stores have already moved on to the next holiday: Valentine's Day. Whether you choose to celebrate the holiday or not, everyone has an opinion about it. It seems that most fall into one of two camps: those who grumble that it's merely a chance for retailers to capitalize off sappy love birds or those who are sappy love birds that use the holiday as an excuse to buy and receive various tokens of love. Me? I've never really made up my mind.

Oh, I don’t mind missing out on a life-sized teddy bear but when is this whole waiting game going to end? Don't get me wrong--I'm not sitting around waiting helplessly. I'm very busy with my career and I accomplished exactly what I wanted. Yet the sympathetic expressions and comments from others at social gatherings as well as the unsolicited advice that I receive on an on-going basis are truly vexing and lead me to ask:

What’s wrong with me?

My dear mother would diplomatically respond, "Nothing." She always has and I thank her for that; however, I've always been inclined to think otherwise. For years I've lead myself to believe that if I changed aspects of my being (weight, appearance, personality, etc.) things would be different. Not only have I discovered it to be impossible to be someone I'm not, I've also found the effects of these silly notions to be quite detrimental in many ways.

It's usually at times like these that I turn to my faith. One week during Advent, I was sitting alone in my usual pew at church. I got there early and not many other congregants had arrived yet. I sat staring at the font of the church admiring the lovely Christmas decorations when I looked up at the cross. I thought of the baby whose birth we would soon be celebrating and the sacrifice He would later make. I thought of the amount of love that such a sacrifice requires and then I felt ashamed of myself. Ashamed for doubting His plan for me. Ashamed for trying to recreate myself to be a person that He did not create me to be. I realized that His love, whether I have a significant other or not, is enough. Suddenly, I did not feel alone in that pew and a voice within me said...

"You have never been alone."

I'm pretty sure this gift beats a life-sized teddy bear any day.

Happy Valentine's Day.

The Quiet Activist

"Prejudices, it is well known, are most difficult to eradicate from the heart whose soil has never been loosened or fertilised by education: they grow there, firm as weeds among stones."

- Charlotte Brontë -

Most of us can remember where we were or what we were doing when a major historical event happened. I remember huddling around a flat screen t.v. with others on my college campus the day the first African American was inaugurated as president of the United States. Regardless of your political affiliation (Democrat, Republican, or somewhere in-between), it is truly amazing to think that a little over 40 years prior to that inauguration day in January of 2009, a man named Martin Luther King, Jr., the leader of a movement trying eradicate the discrimination of African Americans in our country, was assassinated. That day was April 4, 1968 and my grandpa, Gene Fasbinder, clearly remembers where he was and what he was doing.

My grandpa had earned a degree in electrical engineering and was working as a supervisor at Philco Ford in Houston, Texas during this time frame. Inspired by the urging of a guest pastor, Rev. Earl Allen, at church one Sunday to help under-served minorities in the community, my grandpa decided to contribute by sharing his knowledge of computers.

My grandpa (bottom right) featured in an article

On the day of MLK's assassination, my grandpa was with Rev. Earl Allen in downtown Houston developing computer classes designed to help the under-served minorities in his community obtain meaningful jobs. The instructors would include my grandpa as well as his co-workers from Philco Ford who volunteered as well. The courses included computer coding and keypunch. A job fair was later held which allowed the graduates of these classes to be interviewed by prospective employers in the area.

My grandpa (left) with Rev. Earl Allen to his left

My grandpa later received a community service award from his company for his contribution as it reflected the goal set by Henry Ford II who stated, "Our goal is to do all we realistically can to give people who have been held back by prejudice and poverty a chance to earn a decent life." I've always joked with my grandpa that it never made sense that I was his granddaughter because he's an engineer and I always used to cry over my math and science homework. However, this story of my grandpa during the civil rights movement has shown me where I must have inherited my interest in social work!

Receiving a community service award by the director of Philco Ford of Houston

The Time Has Come

Growing up, I kept many journals: locked journals, pretty journals, and plain ol’ composition notebooks. I didn't write anything noteworthy in these journals, but each one acted as a sort of confidant for me—something that I could entrust with my secrets, struggles, worries, and daily life events.

I've always found there to be incredible therapeutic value in writing and yet I seemed to write less and less as I became older. That’s not to say that I stopped entirely, but my writing consisted exclusively of papers for my college classes. Since I've graduated and started working full-time, my writing is now in the form of seemingly endless documentation and paperwork.

In an effort to return to the type of writing that I used to take pleasure in, I've decided to start this blog. I hope you’ll join me as I attempt to document my day-to-day life as a twenty-something-year-old social worker trying to make at least a small difference in the world while also attempting to navigate it for myself!

“The time has come,” the Walrus said,

“To talk of many things:

Of shoes—and ships—and sealing wax—

Of cabbages—and kings—

And why the sea is boiling hot—

And whether pigs have wings.”

- Lewis Carroll -