Tour for Jim

My brother has traveled here from Tennessee to help with my sister's garage sale. He has been house sitting for one of my other sisters since Mom passed. I don't get to see him often, and even though in the daytime he is helping set things out and mark prices, I thought perhaps he might be interested in seeing where I work. I doubt he will get up here again any time soon, if ever. He is amenable to the idea and meets me in the library. I show him around and he likes the building (who wouldn't!), but when I get to my office, he is taken aback.

Why would they give me such a huge office? I smile, and mention that I am, after all, a professional librarian and the Director of Public Services. He, like the rest of my siblings would be, is shocked. They all think of me as a little old lady who checks out books and shushes people. Surely I am no more than a glorified store clerk. I remind him that I do have 2 master's degrees and am working on a doctoral degree, that I turned down a 6 figure job at the Library of Congress to come here, and that it takes a great deal of education and experience to run a library well.

He is duly impressed, though I am not sure he entirely gets it.  People have this conception of librarians as second class citizens. They think that any old person can work in a library. When we have open positions, I am always amazed at the number of people who think that because they like to read books they would be perfect for a job in a library. The few times I have interviewed someone without library experience, they can't even answer the basic questions and when we start talking library tools, they are completely in the dark. I ask for their sense of the library as a whole, and they can't even see beyond the chair in which they are sitting.

If I were interviewing for a doctor position, would they think they were qualified because they like to do healthy things like walking? If I needed an opera singer, would they qualify if they like to listen to jazz? You get the idea. The library profession is in need of upgrading its image. I think I will start telling people I am an informatics engineer - one small piece of what I do. Maybe that will get a bit of respect! Meanwhile, perhaps one brother sees my role in a bit better light.

RIT Convocation

RIT has offered all kinds of orientation activities for both the freshmen and for their parents. Today, that all winds down. The last parent activity is Convocation. I sneak away from work to attend, wanting to see how they hold their convocation. Drew is surprised that I want to come, and happy because he forgot his phone charger and desperately needs it!

How unusual to sit in the bleachers and look out over a sea of brown tee-shirted students who are whooping and hollering and doing waves. There is a palpable excitement in the air. Faculty have stood outside and high-fived students as they entered the field house. The huge jumbotron shows us everything, even activity that is too far away to be seen. As well, the close captioning scrolls along with sometimes humorous interpretations of what is being said. There are live interpreters on raised platforms all throughout the building.

Most of what is presented feels like a huge pep rally. The platform party consists of the deans of the 8 or 9 schools, the president and provost and a few others. They tell students that they have been given the opportunity of a lifetime and that if they don't take advantage of it, they might as well go home now and let someone else become a world force to be reckoned with. They are told that they will graduate with a desirable benefit of resources in their faculty and friends who will continue to help them succeed all their lives. They are urged not to throw away this  gift by getting involved with alcohol or drugs. They show videos of the social events that will happen throughout the year. We know how to work, and we know how to have fun.

Yeah! Have a blast. And when all is said and done, go get a great job because we have a 95%+ placement rate right out of college. I am inspired! After they are dismissed, I stand up in the bleacher and look for Drew in the sea of students milling about. I figure if I just stay put, he will find me, and he does. Thanks for the phone charger, gotta go. Love ya, having a great time. See you later. Wow - OK. I am not concerned about you being homesick, that's for sure. Now to go enjoy my own freedom.

And So It Begins

Drew has been counting down the days. He scrambled to get every form and paper where it belongs. He even endured getting a shot when in fact he had already had it but the paperwork did not support that. (He was none too happy with that piece). He contacted his roommate ahead of time and had all his ducks lined up. He even invited his roommate and his roommate's parents to dinner (at least he told me about it before they arrived!). They are a lovely family from New Jersey, nervous about their only son moving so far away from home. So much going in in preparation to the BIG DAY.

But here at last we have arrived at move-in day. Once again, I am impressed with RIT's process. They sent people in advance colored labels to put on their luggage and items. We are assigned a time to arrive, they have the student pick up their keys, then we drive to the circle in front of the dorms. There, we take everything out of the car and set it on the curb. Once the car is empty, I drive to the parking lot and take the shuttle back to the dorm while Drew and a ton of helpers carry all his belongings upstairs. He is completely moved in and less than an hour has gone by. Not bad. There are not really any long lines - just a short wait to get on the elevators. Still, considering they are moving 4000 freshmen in, it all went smoothly.

Drew is on the 8th floor of a 9 story dorm. His room is across the hall from the bathroom and right next to the stairs. It is beastly hot in the room, but he sets up his fans and soon it is bearable. Since we can't take the elevators down (reserved only for those bringing stuff up), we walk down the stairs and head to the shuttle in order to get to the field house where Drew collects a backpack full of swag and along the way signs up for things he is interested in like getting a parking sticker for my car so I can come on campus to pick him up. And turning in that health form proving he had the darn shot. He tells me he politely but in no uncertain terms registered his displeasure about the mix up. Meanwhile, they have a packet for the parents as well - complete with a calendar that tells me what is happening on campus when.

At this point I am exhausted and have to find a comfy chair to sit and wait it out until he is finished. He brings me a cup of cold water and I am thankful that the day does not turn out to be an ordeal that over taxes my already over taxed body. We go home after that - Drew allowing it because he can see I am beat, and because he forgot a few things that he will need. Eventually, I recover and take him back. It feels strange dropping him off and knowing I will not see him for awhile. I make him give me a hug. He is embarrassed, but complies, grinning from ear to ear as he heads into his new home.

Mission accomplished. Last child off to college and out of the house. Or at least partially out of the house.