With spring here, and with it a sense of hope, I’ve been thinking about what I look forward to doing when we return to normal. I don’t think we’re there yet, and do think that it will take months of patience, but I still dream of the possibilities. Live theater, live audiences, applause and music. Indoor dining, faces, smiles, casual hellos and more eye contact. Less screens, more in real life. Fearless exploring and gathering.
I wonder when the worry of needing to always have a mask on hand, or the shock of seeing someone unmasked, will fade; When normal will actually feel normal. A year of abnormal will certainly have its effects. That said, I’ve appreciated the stillness of this time. The lack of movement and activity. The slowness, rest, and reflection. I’m sharing a poem for this week’s Tidbits, and I’ll be doing a reading of it this Saturday at the Hammond Museum’s April Exhibit. It’s about the slow yet quick passage of time; the familiar yet unexpected change of seasons; and the precious little moments that collect throughout it all. It’s called Precious Breakfast, and I hope you enjoy! Cracked egg in pan, morning’s sizzle Wake up knowing what’s in store Golden yoke shining bright Springtime is scrambled When it’s cool then warm then cool again A winding path to summer days Mixed and blended Unknown, then knowing, then unknown again Rain is certain, right? And green does grow back, flowers too Beauty with a name, and purpose Sunny side up beginnings Warm breakfasts together Prepare the dishes for the sun It comes soon, look for it, the bright side Mixed, then spiced, seasoned Guided into messy order A work of art Enjoy this Precious Breakfast Before counters wiped clean Hardened egg drops removed Flaky pieces pulled from the pan Once it has cooled Culinary magic erased Consumed After this, you prepare for what is next Lunch, dinner, autumn You look forward to another break But it’s fast Egg cracked, yoke dripped, sizzled, then gone Spring is calling Or is it winter, already, again Still
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In preparation of our marriage, and our Jewish wedding, Kyle and I took an interfaith couples class with 18Doors. It was a sweet little community from across the country, rich with shared experiences and new insights.
A bit surprised, we realized we weren’t actually interfaith (2 religions coming together). While I was Jewish, Kyle came with no distinct religion. However, he still grew up with meaningful culture and rich family tradition that was still important to consider how to integrate in our lives together. We talked about our favorite traditions growing up, negative associations with religion, and what more we’d want to explore. Making these conversations proactive, not reactive, helped us create a religious foundation that was uniquely ours, with pieces from our past, and a path for our future. I also discovered that I’m more religious than I thought. Or, that I tend to downplay how deeply being Jewish impacts me. So while I’m not capital “R” religious, I am very much influenced by Judaism, in practice, action, and belief. I embrace the holidays, seek Jewish community, write about Jewish themes, and even like to look up rabbinical school every now and then… Though I shared on our first date, “my family doesn’t celebrate Christmas,” I quickly followed it with, “I’m Jewish, but I’m not religious.” I realize, now, how these words can go against my upbringing and identity. And it doesn’t really add up to a non-Jewish partner who sees me doing, loving and wanting all these Jewish things. It wasn’t just me; this was a theme among our group. Finally, we talked about kids, which brings a whole other layer of decisions! Some feel clear, while others will be determined by who our kids are and what they want. It was really about starting, not finishing, the conversation. I’m more in touch with my Judaism maybe because I'm in a relationship with someone who is not. It prompts me to more closely examine and be intentional with it, rather than defaulting. While Judaism is newer to Kyle, I feel I have so much to learn and that we’re at the start of a Jewish journey together, with our next stop under the chuppah (wedding canopy)! As a social worker, I’ve supported others with barriers to healthcare. I knew there was a need for better access to quality care. But it wasn’t until now that I experienced it myself.
Before losing my employer’s plan, a top priority was scheduling appointments I put on hold in the first 6 months of the pandemic. Being proactive would help me beat the system, right? I saw a neurologist, an orthopedic surgeon, and an ENT. Nothing serious, just staying on top of minor issues. The only trouble was that follow up tests would cost thousands on my new plan. So, I put a pause on treatment. I was surprised by the ease of signing up for MassHealth. Their helpline was actually helpful. They constantly mailed reminders to ensure I knew my plan, paid on time, and helped me register to vote. Though sometimes redundant to the online portal, I appreciated their communications. An earnest attempt to break down barriers, right? The only trouble was my plan was limited. Even the primary care doctor they assigned didn’t accept my insurance. When I called, they explained that doctors constantly change who they accept, and it’s hard to keep up. I empathized, but worried about the devastating impact this logistical error could cause. Despite this, I was committed (and had the luxury of time) to advocate for myself. After many calls to booked offices, in late January, I finally secured a new PCP for his next availability: May 28th. Then it happened again. After one appointment with a dermatologist, they dropped my insurance. Even with middle class security and hours to spend on the phone. Even when I’m on top of my health, make appointments and have a way to get to them. Even with the ability to pay copays, understand my treatment and ask questions. Even with all of this, I experienced barriers to care. I can’t imagine having a serious health condition on this plan. I also can’t imagine not having any insurance right now. Or having to decide between coverage and rent, or food. Even with the ability to pay hundreds a month for coverage, care was limited and uncertain. I know that too many can’t navigate these systems, and even if they could, they’d be disappointed. As I near the end of my job search (more on that soon), I feel compelled to share some tidbits from the journey. This is more of a list than a narrative, but there are stories behind each one ;) I hope this helps you or someone you love! (All sites referenced are in all caps)
APPLICATIONS ✔️Get feedback on your cover letter & resume. Add a summary. Hone it til you love it. ✔️Make a master copy with bolded keywords to change for each application. ✔️Create a WORDCLOUD with the job description for keywords to incorporate. FOLLOW UP ✔️Follow up on all applications. Sometimes it takes a few nudges to be seen. Keep a running list and include when & who you follow up with. ✔️Most of my next steps in the process came through direct contact with a person -- the supervisor, HR, or even the CEO. Connect on Linkedin or by email. It can be scary, but it's vital to be seen. Make sure you first connect with them/their work. If/once they respond (because sometimes they don’t), bring up your interest! It’s cause for celebration when an employer views your Linkedin profile!🥳 INTERVIEWS ✔️Sometimes interviews aren’t what you think. I was surprised when some didn't ask questions. Some info calls were more like interviews. Sometimes, it was a surprise group interview! That’s all to say, be prepared for anything. Prep a doc with lots of Q's & A's to easily click through (perks of virtual interviewing). Pull up the JD, the org’s site, and ask questions to better understand current priorities. ✔️I found lots of helpful content on the SELFMADE MILLENNIAL Youtube, particularly on interviews & negotiation. ✔️CAREER ONE STOP & PAYSCALE are essential tools for salary research. THROUGHOUT ✔️Take all offers to connect (friends of friends, former colleagues, peers, etc.) especially if you are new to a city. You never know what they hold. ✔️Stay organized. Save all applications. Keep a schedule & stick to it like it’s a job. But of course, make accommodations that serve you. ✔️Find a free career coach, or hire one if you can afford to. There are free resources through local career services or professional networks. My coach pushed me to be bold in my approach & I'm never going back. For me, doing is being. When I did gymnastics, I was a gymnast. When I was in the marching band, I was a band geek. You get the gist.
But there’s something about being a writer that gives me pause. I write, but am I a writer? I pause because I don’t want to say I'm something I’m not. I don’t want to take away from others who are. I don’t have an MFA, the credentials or any awards. I haven't sacrificed enough for it. There are writers who are living the cut-throat, disappointing, exhilarating life of a struggling artist, with tons of gigs on the side to make it happen. I am not. And I don’t write enough. “I’ll do it later,” “when I have more time,” “when a an idea REALLY strikes.” “You can’t force it." But writers have discipline. I fit my writing in on the side. Say, “it’s for fun." But even when a year goes by, and I haven't written anything new, I feel this desire to be a writer. And it’s never within reach. In my childhood room, there are too many journals. Piles. Too many beginnings of ideas. And lots of nonsense. I wanted to be a songwriter, a magazine editor, an English teacher. Any opportunity to write or submit poetry as a kid I took as “my big break." Writing is dear to me. It was an outlet, a friend, a therapy, another world to envision. I think it was my first love. I want to call myself a writer and I want to mean it. I want to take it more seriously. And I want to take myself more seriously with it. So I’ve pushed myself to try it on for size by doing it more. I took a class and wrote a play. I wrote a poem about a grandma I never met. I took a teaching artist course that inspired me. I wrote a poem about a tree and another about water. I wrote another, shorter play. I made a website, a youtube channel, and submitted applications. If you search “Kate Thomas, writer" you’ll find many others with more impressive resumes. So don’t. This is a soft launch. I hope to inch my way forward and get comfier in this cozy blanket I’ve carried with me through, well, everything. But the good thing is, we’re cuddling up. With a deepened commitment to doing more, the name feels more within reach. And that, fortunately, doesn’t give me pause. |
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