Show a little R-E-S-P-E-C-T

Courtney

          In my place of employment I have to wear a uniform.  It is pretty generic black pants and a white button down smock.  I work in the bakery department of a grocery store, and I like what I do. I mean how many people can say they make roses bloom with the flick of the wrist and a pastry bag filled with icing.  As a cake decorator I can color the world as I see fit.  We still cut donuts by hand.  That is how a good donut should be made, patiently and by hand. 

          I know this may seem like quit the jump, but I promise my craziness will make some sense in the end. 

          I did a very short stint at a well-recognized college in my area.  As I worked on a clay project one day, a professor went on about how daring it was that I was attending such a college since three years had passed between then and high school graduation.  I sat silently as she went on to say that my co-workers, my friends, were uneducated.  What? 

            I wanted to argue against her statement, but I gathered my things and left the clay lab.  I finished the semester, but I did not return after the holiday break.  I didn’t want to learn from someone who thought she was of more importance than the people who helped build me.  My education was mine to seek out, and so I chose to find it in the bakery.

           I may not have a college degree or certificates hanging on my walls, but I have so many other things. Things I can’t hang on a wall, but are much more valuable.  I have an appreciation for the little things like the way a waitress/waiter remembers what I order regularly.  I love that the man working at the full service gas station genuinely asks about my family and me and how the courtesy clerk at the grocery store knows that I prefer paper over plastic bags.  I appreciate kindness, even if it comes in the smallest of doses. 

            As for being uneducated, there is no such thing.  One should not be judged simply because they are educated differently from someone else.  I have a good job, skilled hands, an amazing Crew, and a give ‘em hell attitude.  How much more education does one need?  So, tip well.  Make eye contact.  Be kind.  Respect one another.  Help somebody if you can.  Now, before I put my hair net back on, I would like to propose a toast.  Here is to the ladies and gents in the uniforms.  To the ones running the world with their names on their shirt.  When it comes down to it, we’re all just trying to dance as elegantly through life as we can.    

 Heather

           I love to learn.  I always have.  I don’t remember learning to read, but I do remember being read to and then reading on my own.  It seems—at least to my memory—to have been a seamless transition.  I would read anything from the backs (and sides) of cereal boxes to the many copies of Hot Rod Magazine Dad had lying around the house.  I devoured history texts and relished book reports.  When I got to college, I took classes in non-Western history and art not because they were required for my major, but because I was interested in what I could learn there.  Some of the things I made in ceramics class are still kicking around my apartment.

            Mom and Dad always talked about college as if it were an absolute.  “When you go to college…” was a phrase I heard from my first day of kindergarten on through high school.  There was no if.  I was going.  And I went.

            I had just decided to transfer schools and change my major when Dad asked me if I thought I was smarter than him.  There was no hesitation—I told him that I was a different kind of smart.  He could tear apart an engine and put it together again without any kind of manual.  He could design and build all sorts of things with his torch and steel.  I could barely change a car tire, but I could talk about history and tear apart a poem. 

           A piece of paper in a fancy frame doesn’t denote education.  It indicates attendance at an institution and the fulfillment of minimum requirements, but it does not tell the story of what you actually know.  Education comes from experience and happens all around us—not just in ivy covered brick buildings.  I learned about the Battle of Hastings and Beowulf in a classroom, but I learned about hard work while working as a courtesy clerk and then cashier at a local grocery store.  Have you ever tried to lug two bales of paper bags from the back of a store to the front or moved two carts loaded down with groceries from the check-out area to a customer’s car while dodging other customers and traffic? How about dealing with people yelling at you because the sale doesn’t start on the day they want it to start?  The public.  Always an adventure.

            I learned about taking pride in my work from Dad.  He may have been what some would refer to as “only” a driver, but he made sure that his truck was well taken care of and that his work clothes were free of stains.  I learned about dedication from Mom who rarely calls off even when the weather keeps people who live in town from getting to work. 

            Instead of judging someone by their job, thank them.  Maybe they’re working as a server to pay their way through school or to support themselves while they produce art.  Maybe they’re doing that job because it’s what they love to do and they couldn’t imagine doing anything else. 

            Tip the courtesy clerk who slogs through snow and rain to deliver your groceries to your car, tip the server who brought you your meal, thank the postal workers, the paper carriers, and the waste removal workers.  Thank the people who make your work possible.

           Also, take some time to thank the people who have taught you valuable lessons.  That could mean sending a note to your fourth grade teacher who encouraged your writing or thanking your first boss for giving you a chance. 

Gratitude can make a difference.

 

The fishermen on Piedmont Lake have traded in the shacks of ice fishing for boats and I couldn't be happier.  Spring means a new beginning and hope.