Frustrations of misperception

Last week my new boss was explaining how office relationships operate--"We have to like each other in order to work together, but we can't be friends at work"--confusing things like that. Negotiating what that means with the help of an engineer, somewhere later in the conversation he said, "Don't worry. I've got you pegged."

As laughingly i related this to a friend, she said, "Oh no, you're hard to pin down. He's in for some surprises." She's an insightful friend, and while she's probably aghast at me sometimes, she has known me several years in various shades so what she says is probably true.

That said, it drives me bonkers that in some ways i feel like my new boss--of a week and a half--knows parts of me better than some do who should know me better.

It's bad enough that i usually feel like a gangling fourteen year old without someone thinking i still am that person. And yes, i do act goofy, i don't act my age--but heck, i pay my rent, hold down two jobs, earned two degrees with a third in process, and i'm paying--or promissory noting--my own way through. I've lived in Africa on my own and traveled around the world alone, attended a variety of social situations and handled myself quite okay, and while i second guess everything, i can make good decisions. Sure, i have fears: I hate making telephone calls; i get a little stage fright. They hardly cramp my style.

I hate those pointless arguments-in-germ of "You are this way". If i say that isn't accurate, and they repeat it, "Yes you are", it's crazy to mention it again. If i live down to their expectations that's stupid, but it's equally twisted and unhealthy to drive myself to prove them wrong.

Grrr, grrrr, GRRRRR. What is the God-honoring response here and how will i ever find the grace to do it!?

Ambition...

...I don't have much. Grabbing a bite to eat this week, one of my new colleague-supervisors asked why i wanted that job, and i didn't have a good answer: because it sounded fun?

I REALLY need to take that First Peter admonishment to heart about having a good reason for my hope, and everything else, and think more and be caught off guard less!

Because it is a good deed sort of job, one that can do some public good. Because i want to help be a good steward of the few open spaces left around Los Angeles, and help keep the natural resources (that includes views) open for people to enjoy and have a place to let off steam from the city. Because i need experience and i can't see myself surviving as an intern in an Irvine-corporate kind of firm. Because i don't want to design housing tracts. Because i needed a second job for the summer. Because my immediate supervisor is a great person, whom i already respect, and i could tell i'd thrive working for him. Because i want to be involved in habitat restoration. Because i want to be able to work outside sometimes. Because i hope it could maybe turn into a permanent job in the future and i wanted to be a ranger when i was a little girl--not to steal my supervisor's job, but to work alongside.

Because this is my Father's world. Because Christians should have remained on the forefront of the environmental movement as a God-honoring means of obeying His mandate to tend the earth and rule over it as His regents, and a means of loving their neighbors, instead of abdicating their responsibility and cowering in enclaves of anti-nature or acting like King John à la Robin Hood.

That's all. To be promoted is to be stuck managing people or dealing with even more politics in Washington. I'd rather be outside in the dust and the mountains, sniffing pine trees to see what species they are, cataloging old fire pits, figuring out how to preserve a view when re-opening a picnic area, researching light fixtures, tagging along as the geeky side-kick, and learning a ton.

Lunch break

As i sat in my car, under the trees, eating my lunch and listening to the radio, yellow flowers drifted down in the light breeze. They landed all over my car outside and in: some fell through the sunroof or the window and landed in my hair and the seats. Then i noticed a flower that wasn't falling down--it was moving horizontally and up, and ta da! It was a butterfly! :) I don't know what kind it was, but it looked a bit like a swallow-tail, as bright yellow as the flowers of the Tipuana tipu tree.

Flight

My not-so-little brother is in town for the week and it's nice to have him around. He makes great dinners on the grill, buys decent beer, treated me to coffee, and convinced me to try smoking a cigar.

He did not make a convert.

He's a pilot. The life of a pilot is not all glam--he's had to move several times in the past three years, shared houses with several people and welcomed others who use his place as an occasional crash pad, and now he's on reserve for many years to come (that's if his airline stays in business during this economic whatever-it-is). Being on reserve means a completely unpredictable schedule. Believe me, having been a substitute teacher, an unpredictable schedule makes having any sort of life nigh impossible. He had a nice little life before upgrading to captain, plus people with whom he enjoys having a life.

We were talking the other day as he drove me home from our parents' house about how we're both feeling an urge to bolt. One point in his favor about a pilot's life vs. a grad student's life: he can request a base change and move while keeping his job. He probably won't, but if the draining situation in which he finds himself becomes more than he wants to handle, he does have an escape route and, he says, little to bind him to the place. I, on the other hand, know i am supposed to be here for now, but i sure am fighting a desire to bolt. I'm not sure Italy can come soon enough!

Someone asked me the other day if i was planning to go back to Africa as a landscape architect. When i got home, i realized my reply was sorely lacking something along the lines of the Book of Esther: God was implied (from my side) but i didn't overtly mention Him. I should have. My reply was: i'm not planning anything. I'm open to it, but i'm not planning. I thought i knew what i wanted my life to look like, and while it was right for a time, i was wrong about having that be the rest of my life. Did i misread what God wanted me to do? Maybe. Maybe not.

So, i am not planning my future, but i am listening and watching my feet. I don't really want to see more than a few footsteps ahead right now; i don't really want to know what is coming and i doubt i'd get the picture anyway. A responsible life--do justly. love mercy. walk humbly with my God.--that should be enough preparation for whatever is to come, i think. Here is where i am, and where i belong, for now. I am a graduate student. I have two years left.

So why do i want to run away so much?

Enduring repercussions

In class we've learned about these nifty things called bioswales/bio medians/vegetated swales. Instead of a boring asphalt median painted green, a median is slightly concave and lined with cobble on the outer edges, then planted with appropriate species. (Imperial Highway between Santa Gertrudes and La Mirada Blvd is a great example, as is Temple Ave between the 57 exit and Valley.) A swale is a similar thing--any depression intended to channel water. Instead of a concrete-lined ditch, it could be planted with reeds or grasses or other plants that can handle occasional inundation.

These designs serve several purposes: they're much more attractive and that is good for people. They slow down, clean up, and absorb water before it hits the storm drains ("No dumping, drains to ocean"). That's important because most of the storm drain water around here goes straight to the sea, which is why i get so ticked when i see people toss fast food trash out their window. It's incredibly unpleasant to step on a crumpled plastic straw at the beach. Our storm drain system also is old: it wasn't designed to handle run-off from the plethora of housing developments that have sprung up like mushrooms in an over-watered lawn, so a bioswale slowing down the water (and absorbing some) allows a more appropriate flow rate into the system.

Another important function of these design features is phytoremediation, or plants cleaning up pollutants. Tire bits worn off by friction, brake linings, fluid drips, and other gunk is washed off parking lots and streets by rain and by any other water that runs down the street (like the people who water the sidewalk and the street when watering their grass. That would be your neighbors, of course, not you.). All that gunk also ends up in the ocean, just like your (sorry: their) straws. Not good. Not good for the ocean, not good for all the little fishies that swim in the sea, not good for me who eats fishies, not good for anyone who likes going to the beach. So, a bioswale's plants absorb a lot of those pollutants. Huzzah! Everyone thinks we've found a solution to pollution! Have the plants take care of it!

Wrong.

For one thing, while there are species that can handle this sort of environment, they are often not the prettiest plants to start with. Think crows and starlings and pigeons: sure, they can handle cities. I'd rather see a cardinal, an oriole, or a phoebe, personally. On top of that, if they are seriously polluted, these plants end up with growths and infections: a kind of plant version of cancer. They also die faster. Big deal, you say. So a plant dies. Trick is, these plants that have been absorbing all those pollutants don't deactivate those pollutants: they just contain them and keep them out of our water supply. That's great, but it doesn't solve the entire pollution problem. When bioswale plants die (or have to be pulled out and replaced) that plant has to be treated as toxic waste. Because it is. Plants, like us, are what they eat.

So, it's a good idea to have bio medians, but they are far from a magic bullet. If we pollute, and we do, there are things we can do to mitigate the effects of pollution: there are better and worse ways to pollute. We cannot undo the damaging effects completely though.

Like other aspects of life.