WordSisters

Tag: wordsisters

  • What We Don’t See

    First off, my love to Beverly Cory and to those who loved her. I didn’t know Beverly but she could have been my friend or my financial advisor. The financial advisor Jody and I work with is also our dear friend and aunt to our children.

    While volunteering for Richfield Police Reserves, near the 8-mile mark of the Woodlake half marathon, I positioned the police car to block the street. I turned on the squad lights, indicating that the intersection was closed. Half marathon runners could run safely up 71st St E.  Many would shout out some thanks as they went by. I’d wave in acknowledgement.

    With the police car doing most of my work, my mind was on what I was hearing on the police radio.

    The speed of information and the rapid coordination of agencies astounded me.

     

    A person had been robbed at gunpoint. Police chase ensued. Car crashed into swamp. Man fled into nursing home. Perimeter set up. Command post opened. Swat team deployed. Help requested from nearby agencies. Police dog on scene. Request for another police dog. Photo of suspect received. Witness identified suspect. Snipers placed on roof tops. Squad cars, armoured vehicles, and helicopters surrounded the area. Area on lockdown. Evacuation of White Pine Living Center begun. A methodical door-to-door search of the center. Buses on site for residents and staff.

    Though it was peaceful at my post, with runners yelling their appreciation, my heart rate increased, my blood pressure rose, and my breathing quickened.

    In Mendota Heights, attention had turned to the office building.

    Dispatch continuously fed the command center with information: persons who could possibly still be in the office building, the vehicles they drove, and their physical description.

    Intensity continued at the senior center and at the same time increased at the office building.

    A door-by-door search of the office building begun. A robot deployed. Beverly Cory found. My heart sank.

    Long after I took off my Police Reserve officer uniform, I couldn’t stop thinking of Beverly and what might have transpired in her office. I don’t know what did. When I change into civilian clothes, I become a member of the public. I receive news the same as you.

    One thing that I knew for sure, is that the police would work 24/7, and use all the resources that they had available to catch the murder suspect. I felt safer knowing that. I also knew that the police were doing a job that I could not possibly do.

  • “Go On, Git”

    “Go On, Git”

    I’m excited about Juan Jose’ and Crystel growing up. Each milestone they have, I celebrate.

    Sometimes, I’m ready before they are.

    I couldn’t wait for Juan Jose’ to learn how to ride his bike without training wheels. Crystel had been riding for months. Finally, I convinced him to give it a try. We went to a grassy knoll at our nearby park. Along with his bike helmet, he insisted on wearing knee, elbow and wrist pads. If he could have figured out how to bungee a pillow around his waist, I’m sure that he would have.

    With a push, I launched him. At high speed, he sailed down the rise, pedaled when he hit the flat field, and after he biked as far as he could, he fell.

    From that moment, he had enough confidence to bike on his own.

    Some parents lament time passing too quickly for their children. I’m loving it. It can’t come quick enough for me. Is this because I’m an older parent? I’m 58-years old with two 14-year olds. I want to be present for all of their firsts.

    Or, is it because I was numb as a teenager? I thought I’d be dead by the time I was 25.

    Through Juan Jose’ and Crystel, I experience their thrills, their excitement, and their fear. I get to see what being alive looks like.

    Recently, Juan Jose’, Crystel, and a friend attended a moped driving class. I expected there to be other 14-year-olds in the classroom. When I opened the door, I was surprised. There were adults with tattoos, mustaches, beards, muscle shirts, and bulking biceps sitting at desks.

    I pushed the children into the classroom without any protective gear. All of a sudden, they were surrounded by a classroom of grownups. They were launched.

    I told the teacher, “I found these folks looking for the moped class.” Now, they are learning to drive.

     

  • It Happened Like This …

    Crystel and Tio Scott Photo by Tia Anna

    Fortunately, or unfortunately, depending on how I choose to look at it, I have many personal examples when I hold employee meetings or talk with my children regarding undesirable behavior.

    This past week I met with employees in Grand Forks, North Dakota to discuss profanity in the workplace. In meetings, I first try to establish that I’m not much different from who they are. My position today as a Human Resources Manager was not where I started. I began my career more than thirty years ago, running an inserting machine on the night shift, was promoted to lead person, then Supervisor.

    I told the employees that when I was a supervisor, I would say,“What did you f..k up now?” when I dealt with a challenging employee who was constantly making mistakes. My boss informed me that my language was not appropriate. Even so, the next night before I even knew it, before I could stop myself, I said the exact same thing to the exact same employee who once again had screwed up. This time, my boss made it clear that I would be fired if it happened again.

    I had heard that profanity was a sign of a limited vocabulary. Whether that’s true or not, I don’t know. What I do know is that it took me concerted effort to stop swearing. It certainly was embedded behavior.

    Juan Jose

    Recently, our employee meeting was focused on hygiene in the workplace. Our manufacturing plants are Safe Quality Food certified, meaning that we are held to a high standard when it comes to conditions on our manufacturing floor. I used the example of my father coming to one of my brother’s football games without changing from his farm clothes. They laughed watching my face turn red at the memory. “Whatever you are doing before you come to work, change into your work uniform and your work shoes. Don’t bring the dirt from the fields in here.”

    “It happened like this,” I said, to Juan Jose and Crystel, when I was teaching them about why bullying was wrong. I began by telling them how I bullied a kid mercilessly and often was in fights in middle school. “Did you ever run away from home?” Juan asked. “Once,” I said. “I was going to hop a train. I can’t imagine you or Crystel ever running away. Even parents want to be adopted by me and Mama Jody.” I paused. Well, unless it’s drugs, alcohol, or sex, I thought but didn’t say. Then again, if that happens, we’ll deal. I’ve got examples of that too.