death and rejection

I know it's been a while since I wrote. I had some serious internet paranoia about employers "finding me" on the internet so I worked for a couple days to try to keep my online presence down to a minimum. Let it be known, young bloggers, don't ever use your full name on ANYTHING unless you want it to be found by the pope, your grandma, your novio/novias mom, or the people that you want to HIRE YOU IN THE FUTURE. I have been so naive.

Yesterday I went to the funeral for my great-aunt in Walterboro, South Carolina. I felt really sad for my grandmother because she was so sad that her sister died. It must be such a terrible feeling to watch your family die and know that you're next and not far off. She's about to be 89, so I'm not sure if she even realizes these things or not (a little dementia can be a good thing). The service was at a Baptist church and was really bizarre, not exactly what I'm used to in term of religion. Like any event involving ritual or rites of passage, I had my anthropology goggles on. In this service, it was run clearly by men. Three male preachers or pastors or whatever they were led the pal bearers in a processional inside the church. The three head guys then ran the service, which involved no interaction from the guests (congregation)- except for that optional "amen" at the end of certain prayers. The only singing was done by one soloist man who was in the front, too. I wanna know where the women at? Just not my cup of tea. But- my great aunt's religion did help her a lot in her life and especially when she was sick in the hospital.

You really have to credit religion for serving its purpose sometimes. One thing about anthropology goggles and religion is that it can turn you into an atheist really fast- though I'm not. I still believe but I also understand what the function of religions ARE and how they can change over time to suit the spiritual needs of a culture (not much sacrifice going on in the US anymore, is there? There are reasons for this kind of cultural change).

So anyway. I didn't get one of the jobs that I really really wanted. When that happened it was the first time I have cried during this whole process. It's just so disappointing to be rejected and not know why- it really does make you feel like you're damaged goods or that there is something wrong with you or that you're doing something wrong with the process. Even worse, to not get an answer one way or another from the potential employer by the date they said they would get back to you. I practically spammed this lady to get an answer out of her- and let it be known that if an employer doesn't get back to you quickly / on time, chances are you didn't catch that bus to employment town. They will stay in close touch with those that they want and a lot of times just "forget" about the no-gos. It seems like employers just like to avoid that whole "I'm just not that into you" message so they just don't say anything at all. How hard is it to send an email or call a person and just say- hey, you're great but we're looking for something else. I am trying to stay positive. I got an encouraging phone message about another job- I'm on the "short list." The politics with this stuff are incredible.

So I am alive, happy internet. I'm still dealing with internet paranoia but I think I have it under control now.

interviews, peaches, parades and Jesus

The job hunt is kind of like babysitting. You have to constantly check the kids and make sure they heard you over and over until eventually they are the ones calling YOU. Finally, I'm getting calls instead of emails. I had another interview last week that (I thought) went well. I'm supposed to hear back from them next week. I also got called for an interview with another position next week(!!!) Things are happening! Of course, just like the last time things got "rolling" with this process, I'm starting to FREAK OUT about how big this first job is/could be.

In other news: my mom decided this year we really had to go to the Lexington County Peach Festival in Gilbert, SC for the 4th of July. I'm always up for a parade (I am my mother's daughter, after all) so we trekked out to the 'pit' of South Carolina for this classy celebration. The parade piqued my "anthropology goggles" in that all parades, especially small town home grown county-sponsored ones, are representations of a culture as the "officials" would want the culture to be portrayed as. It's a socialization mechanism to reinforce certain cultural values- putting the values on display as "correct" and "celebrated." For the Peach Parade I saw today, I noticed a few things.

In addition to the overwhelming Christian / Baptist presence (a camel with a banner tied to it that read "Come see me at the Christmas Pageant at ___ Baptist Church!" While the girl leading it fed it Mountain Dew. She'd open a bottle, hold it up to the camel's mouth and the camel would take it and tilt it's head back and drink the whole thing. I think that camel probably drank 15 Mountain Dew's today. It's probably dead.) The main representation of women were as beauty pageant winners. All of these women were young, beautiful, many of them teenagers and children, adorned with crowns, gowns, and titles like "Little Miss Peach Queen," "Miss SC Poultry" and some kind of title about "Miss Tiny-Tot." Of course, there were girls in the marching band, some women in the senior center float, the red-had ladies, etc, but by far the most women were in the parade as beauty queens. The one young woman who was not the standard southern blonde skinny type was instantly ridiculed by the audience near where I was standing- they obviously already knew what an ideal young woman should look like- and she didn't cut it: (by rejecting what they saw in offhand comments, they affirm their cultural capital in the community).

The men in the parade, however, were present driving all the vehicles for the parade (all of them), all the tractors (at least 10), all of the politicians campaigning were men (with the exception of one), all of the veterans present were men, etc. Occasionally, a wife would stand behind her husband as he drove the tractor, and with the politicians the families of the politicians would be in the vehicle with them. There were some girls on the FFA float, which I was glad to see, but for the most part the parade had very clear gender boundaries- the most clear of which was that women do not drive tractors, they are queens! My mom grumbled that this was a "masculine parade!" and that she wanted to go to a gay parade next instead. I'll go with you, mom. Parades really are a cultural anthropology pool party. Seriously.

Getting up close and personal with deep southern culture makes me just laugh and laugh. If I don't laugh at it and label it I just get mad. I get mad anyway. One float for the Woodmen of the World had a large banner that proclaimed: "The Woodmen of the World support our Arm Forces." Sweet Jesus. But Jesus really was there with us today. As we were walking back to the car in the 95 degree heat we were becoming very thirsty. Right as one of us mentioned that we wanted something to drink this woman appeared and asked us, "would you like some ice cold bottled water? It's free" of course we accepted and thanked her a lot. We looked across the street and saw Jesus himself smiling at us from the Gilbert Baptist Church. What a day!

anthropology rocks the house

ONE MORE THING: Barack Obama's mom got her Ph.D in Anthropology from the University of Hawaii with a dissertation titled Peasant blacksmithing in Indonesia: Surviving and Thriving Against All Odds.

(ps- for those who don't get why that's so cool: I majored in Anthropology, too. But I only have a BA)

OSSUM!!!