Reasons to Go On
When the Trumpocalypse gets to be too much, when climate change seems beyond all hope, and when it seems like people of color can't do anything at all without drawing excessive police attention, it's good to get a reminder of why we keep on persevering.
I felt the same way last year, when I first did the Career Fair at Monte Vista Middle School. This year, it was renamed the "Community Interest Fair," and included groups like the local high school's German club. It also moved to the Camarillo Community Center, where we wouldn't get chased off by the basketball team wanting to practice afterwards.
Last year, I brought my books with me, but ended up talking about being a Quality Manager as well. This year, I decided to present both careers side by side. When I left the office that afternoon, I packed up my trusty calipers, one of our ASME stamps and some failed parts I keep in a "rogue's gallery" on my desk. I also got a display table all to myself, which gave me plenty of room to set everything up.
Just like last year, the kids had a sheet of questions they were supposed to ask us, like "Did you graduate from college?" and "Do you work in an office?" We had a sheet of stickers and were supposed to put one on their sheet if there was a question we could answer "yes" to. Some of the kids were clearly just there for the stickers - I guess there was a prize for whoever filled out the whole sheet. But others were much more interested.
Several kids wanted to know about being an author, often because they wanted to write themselves. A couple of kids remembered me from the school visit I did in November, and they told me what they'd been up to since then. One girl was an aspiring artist, or so I was told by her embarrassing dad. She immediately ran and hid behind her brother as her dad asked how to become a book artist. I can't do anything about embarrassing parents, but I hope I gave them at least a little useful advice.
Other kids were more interested in my Quality Manager stuff. Several of them wanted to see my calipers - fortunately, nobody broke them. Others liked the broken water heater parts. There was one group of kids who had their own table, because they were talking about some kind of engineering/coding project they'd done involving water capture and reuse. They all had matching t-shirts, so they were easy to spot, and I got them to tell me about what they'd done. There was a mom with a matching t-shirt walking around too, but I didn't get to talk to her.
My favorite visitor of the evening was a little third-grade girl with more energy than the rest of the room combined. When I showed her the Mathematical Nights books, she gleefully declared, "I love math! I'm going to be a mathematician!" Her mom was there, and I told her I should introduce them to my mom, adding that one of my mom's students was the first girl to make the US team for the International Math Olympiad. I also gave them one of my post cards, and added an encouraging note on it. For the rest of the night, I was mentally referring to the girl as "the little math tornado." Chances are she'll appear in one of my books someday.
It's been getting more and more clear to me that my response to the Trumpocalypse is to write books that can help equip the upcoming generations to clean up the mess we're leaving them. Maybe I'll only ever play a small role in that effort. Even if that's the case, it's still my role and I'm going to give it my best. Even if I'm just there for a room full of kids on a Thursday night, that's what I'm going to do. Seeing them and talking to them is enough to convince me the effort is worth it. They reminded me that it's worth keeping on.
I felt the same way last year, when I first did the Career Fair at Monte Vista Middle School. This year, it was renamed the "Community Interest Fair," and included groups like the local high school's German club. It also moved to the Camarillo Community Center, where we wouldn't get chased off by the basketball team wanting to practice afterwards.
Last year, I brought my books with me, but ended up talking about being a Quality Manager as well. This year, I decided to present both careers side by side. When I left the office that afternoon, I packed up my trusty calipers, one of our ASME stamps and some failed parts I keep in a "rogue's gallery" on my desk. I also got a display table all to myself, which gave me plenty of room to set everything up.
Just like last year, the kids had a sheet of questions they were supposed to ask us, like "Did you graduate from college?" and "Do you work in an office?" We had a sheet of stickers and were supposed to put one on their sheet if there was a question we could answer "yes" to. Some of the kids were clearly just there for the stickers - I guess there was a prize for whoever filled out the whole sheet. But others were much more interested.
Several kids wanted to know about being an author, often because they wanted to write themselves. A couple of kids remembered me from the school visit I did in November, and they told me what they'd been up to since then. One girl was an aspiring artist, or so I was told by her embarrassing dad. She immediately ran and hid behind her brother as her dad asked how to become a book artist. I can't do anything about embarrassing parents, but I hope I gave them at least a little useful advice.
Other kids were more interested in my Quality Manager stuff. Several of them wanted to see my calipers - fortunately, nobody broke them. Others liked the broken water heater parts. There was one group of kids who had their own table, because they were talking about some kind of engineering/coding project they'd done involving water capture and reuse. They all had matching t-shirts, so they were easy to spot, and I got them to tell me about what they'd done. There was a mom with a matching t-shirt walking around too, but I didn't get to talk to her.
My favorite visitor of the evening was a little third-grade girl with more energy than the rest of the room combined. When I showed her the Mathematical Nights books, she gleefully declared, "I love math! I'm going to be a mathematician!" Her mom was there, and I told her I should introduce them to my mom, adding that one of my mom's students was the first girl to make the US team for the International Math Olympiad. I also gave them one of my post cards, and added an encouraging note on it. For the rest of the night, I was mentally referring to the girl as "the little math tornado." Chances are she'll appear in one of my books someday.
It's been getting more and more clear to me that my response to the Trumpocalypse is to write books that can help equip the upcoming generations to clean up the mess we're leaving them. Maybe I'll only ever play a small role in that effort. Even if that's the case, it's still my role and I'm going to give it my best. Even if I'm just there for a room full of kids on a Thursday night, that's what I'm going to do. Seeing them and talking to them is enough to convince me the effort is worth it. They reminded me that it's worth keeping on.
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