Change Is Hard

Yesterday I learned that a professor of mine had lost a sister unexpectedly.  Her mothered died earlier this year.  I stopped by her office to extend my condolences and ended up crying all over her.  Though my heart truly does break for her I recognize that the extent of my reaction was an indication that my own grief is just below the surface, waiting to well up and overflow at any moment. 

In 502 this morning we were discussing game theory. Along the way Professor Chen mentioned that game theory is useful in real life as well as games. She said that in real life a strictly dominated strategy will never be the best reply. I wrote that down to think about later. It resonated with me after my weekend in Washington D.C., a weekend filled with frustration at the slow moving buracracy, at the realization that many more people will die as we wait for safety regulations to catch up with the reality of today’s highways. I think our meetings with Senators and House members were nice, but I think we were playing a dominated strategy. We are talking to people that don’t (can’t or won’t) make the decisions to make changes. I think we need to be talking to the people that can and will make those suggestions and can and will write the legislation that we need.

I think after two years of feeling like I’ve been dominated by the trucking industry it’s time for me to figure out a better reply…to figure out the BEST reply, so that I (and others working for the Truck Safety Coalition) have the best chance at getting a dominant equilibrium.

So I’m sitting here in a Shaperio Library window alcove on the third floor.  I’m watching the world go by on South University as I wait for my computer to boot up.  I casually scan the Clements Library next door, noticing the classical details, the arched window, the dental molding near the roof.  And I think to myself “that sculpture on the front corner isn’t in keeping with the clean lines of the building.”  And then I realize the sculpture is a male mallard duck standing on the very corner.  He is also watching the world go by on South University, though sometimes he seems particularly taken by something on the lawn.  Turns out there is a female mallard duck on the lawn,foraging for food among the shrubs (503 in real life!) being escorted by another male mallard.  Perhaps this is spurned love?  OR does he have a female of his own somewhere up there on the roof?

I’m back from Washington DC where I attended the Sorrow to Strength conference hosted by the Truck Safety Coalition.  The objective of the Coalition is to support the enforcement and strengthening of safety laws surrounding large trucks.  I do this because my Dad was killed by a tired trucker.  His death was sensless and what’s worse, more people are dying at the hands of tired truckers every day. Fourteen will die today.  In fact, more than 5200 people have died in each of the years since Dad’s 2004 death.  Over 10,000 people have died in similar crashes since we got that life changing call December 23, 2004.  The figures were similar each year prior to his death as well.  The trucking industry seems to think this is a cost of doing business.  I am beginning to believe it’s outright irresponsibility, valuing profit over safety.  Their motivation is profit.  My motiviation is safety.  Do we need to kill 5200 people a year in order to get cheaper goods on our store shelves?  Would we be willing to pay a few cents more for items to avoid the deaths of so many people?  I think everyone would agree that saving 10 cents on our next microwave is not worth the death of a single stranger.  Certainly not worth the death of people we know and love.

So the sorrow in the title of our conference revolves around remembering the people we loved who are lost.  We had a wonderful grief therapist speak.  We held a remberence ceremoney where we sat in a candlelit room and spoke about what we missed about our loved ones.  We cried.  We hugged.  We cried some more.  We got angry.   

We took that anger and channeled it into something strong, the strength of our conference, when we met with Senators and Representatives’ staff people on Monday, telling our stories and asking for help on multiple truck safety issues.  This year I didn’t feel the energy of capital hill, I didn’t feel the hope and promise I felt last year.  Maybe because I was talking to some of the same people about the same issues as last year.  Maybe I am becoming more realistic about change.  Maybe my feet just hurt and distracted me.  Regardless I am not going to let the feeling of hopelessness overtake me.  The mission remains the same;  get tired truckers off the road, enforce the laws that are already on the books, and change some laws to make the movement of goods in this country a safer industry.

I know that the trucking industry has a lot of money and a lot of influence on Capital Hill.  I know I’m just one voice, one face.  But my face had tears streaking down it, and my voice trembled in anger and pain when I spoke.  My eyes locked on Capital Hill staff’s eyes and dared them to ignore my pleas.  I won’t go away.  I’ll be back.  Again and again I’ll force them to listen to my heartbreaking story and the stories of all the families that I was with this weekend.  If staffers want to stop the pain of having to listen to horrible stories then they need to stop the pain the trucking industry is imposing on helpless people who just got in the way of commerce.

My second of two midterms is now completed. Though I don’t know how I did on either of them yet, I am not that concerned. Talking to other students reassures me that though I didn’t do great, I didn’t totally bomb them either.

Tomorrow morning I leave for Washington DC. The three days are filled with talking about big rigs and trucking issues, unexpected death, meaningless loss, and more importantly what we can do about it. There is a certain comfort in spending time with so many people who are hurting the same way I am. But the closer the conference comes the more sad I get. It makes me realize the depth of my loss, and worse, makes me face up to the reality of it.

This year I have an added responsibility to make sure the family here in Michigan whose daughter was killed last July gets around Washington OK. I want them to feel comfortable and to get the same sense of value we did last time we were there. That there was something, no matter how small, that we could do to make a difference. That’s all any of us want. We want to make a difference so that the people we loved who were killed in horrible crashes will make a difference.

Midterms won’t make a difference. Maybe getting a degree won’t make a difference, though I hope it will. But saving one person’s life; making changes in rules or regulartions or just in awareness that ultimately saves one person’s life,THAT is what will make a difference.

I’m just back from New York; there are five days in this school week and Friday is a midterm so I’m concentrating on that. Other homework and readings are getting put off. Then Saturday I fly to Washington DC to attend the “Sorrow to Strength” Conference. I’m there through Monday night, so next week will be pretty crazy. I wish I wasn’t going to Washington because I already feel like I’m behind in work. But this conference is something I owe my Dad, my siblings and myself. So I go. But I’m taking my laptop and somehow, somewhere, in between sessions I need to get some homework done!

It’s only the middle of the term and I’m very worried that I can’t get it all done. Why is this? Part of my brain knows that the semester will end and be at least somewhat successful regardless of how much I stew about it. The other part of my brain is screaming “WHYT ARE YOU SLEEPING!? YOU NEED TO BE….(fill in the blank) writing a paper, reading a paper, designing an evaluation, writing a report, doing math homework…!!!!” Which is why I am sitting here at 11:19 on a Wednesday night instead of sleeping. You will also note, however, that I am not…(fill in the blank) writing a paper, reading a paper, designing an evaluation etc….either.

Procrastination used to be my favorite thing as an undergrad. I couldn’t start working seriously on anything if the sun was still up. I worked best at night and slept during the day. After 28 years of work in the real world I can no longer stay up all night and sleep all day. However this student stuff is messing with my mind and I still do my best thinking at night. When I can keep my eyes open that is!

So..time to either get some work done or go to sleep. I think I’ll try sleep.

Last night while sleeping in my own bed I woke up to wonder why my dresser was in my New York dorm room.  It took me quite a bit of thought to figure out that I was no longer sleeping in a hard, narrow bunkbed in a bright orange hostel room, but rather in my own bed at home.  I had been dreaming of busy, loud New York streets and somehow had transported myself back to the city.

The interesting question in my mind is;  did I like New York because it was New York or did I like it because while there I could avoid studying for the 502 midterm?

I love New York City. I’ve been there only once before, as a kid with my family. This past week I conquered the city subway system, worked in the Queens Library system and visited a few New York City tourist attractions. My feet are exhausted. So is my brain. I feel as though I have returned from a trip to a country far far away. And in fact, many of the people I interacted with during my library and subway experiences were from places far away from the US. I ate food I’d never eaten before, heard languages I didn’t recognize, and some that I did, rode subways through neighborhoods that are very different from where I live, and tried to act less like a tourist and more like a New Yorker. I’m sure they saw right through me.

On my last subway ride, coming back down to midtown New York from Central Park, a young man gave up his seat for me, an old tired tourist. I took it with a smile.

Hello to all from NYC!

It is cold here, sometimes snowy.  We are staying in a youth hostel which is an adventure all to itself.

Work is ok, could be doing more.

Sightseeing is great, but we are often too tired to go out at night!  Tonight, maybe Times Square.

More later…

My first midterm in over 20 years is this afternoon.  In my mind the words midterm and graduate student should never intersect.  But no one asked me to design the course.  Though if I had, I’d have put in lots of POP OUTS! (Inside joke)

Tomorrow I leave for New York City.  Alternative Spring Break is a program that allows graduate students to give up their break and work at locations in Washington DC or New York City in their field.  Since I am interested in public libraries I chose to work at the Queens Public Library.   I don’t know exactly what I will be doing there, but I know it’s an hour commute on the New York subway system.  I have very detailed directions on how to get from my youth hostel to Queens.  Should be very interesting!  I work from 10-6 Monday through Friday, so I guess the night life is out of the question!

This is another example of the amazing experiences I am so happy to have as a student.  Me, youth hostel, New York City, subway.  Those are things that just weren’t going to happen to me as a long time banker!  I’m excited.  Or I will be after I get that pesky midterm out of the way this afternoon.