Strong enough?

I hate when people say I need two strong boys to help me with such and such. If I lived in the seventies, people would probably say that I'm a feminist. But I don't think that's it. I just sometimes wish I wasn't a girl.

My sophomore year of high school, I had this literature teacher, Mr Ayres, who would each week post questions and if we answered them in a forum then we would get extra credit. One of the questions was who has it easier boys or girls? (Side note: I don't think I ever responded to this question and I rarely did post because I didn't like sharing my opinion, but look at me now, commandeering my own blog.)

And really that's not the issue either. I don't think either sex has it easier or harder consistently. I think both are faced with their own challenges at different stages of their lives.


However, I just wish I was a boy so that people would think I'm strong without having to prove myself. Basically, once you get to know me, then its like oh yeah she's strong and capable and good at soccer. (Had to throw that in because I really can't seem to shake that one.)

So where is all this coming from? Just the comments that people make. The other day I was at South Hills and I went to the office with Darrick to get some papers. He apparently got a whole lot of copies made that filled up a whole box. When we walked in and he saw it, he must have said something because then one of the office workers said "I told you to bring someone strong."


Really now?

I stumbled upon this exerpt from a book on Donald Miller's blog. Its taken from a book called "Bitter sweet, thoughts on Change, Grace and Learning the Hard Way" and is written by Shauna Niequist:

"My friends Brannon and Chris have a little girl named Emme, and before she was born, Brannon and Chris declared their house a princess-free zone. There could be pink, there could be dresses and lace and babies galore, but no tiaras, no wands, and no princes coming to rescue any little princesses.

I love this. I think maybe we should all live in a princess-free zone. I think the current cultural messaging that tells women it’s attractive to play dumb and fragile and hope that they’re saved by their beauty is incredibly destructive.

I’m not anti-feminine. I operate, in many ways, within squarely traditional gender roles. I love to cook, I hate to drive, and I’m terrible with technology of all kinds. I fit squarely within the stereotypes, and then also not, largely because I was raised by a strong leader who recognized aspects of himself in me. I wasn’t raised to play dumb, or play cute, or play princess. I learned to work hard, to develop my skills, to contribute on a team and in society, and it drives me bonkers when women depend instead on their sexuality or their fragility. I think there’s a better way.

If you’re a woman, and you get what you want by batting your eyelashes or faking fragility, and then you wonder why you’re not taken seriously in your career or given responsibility in your church, I think you may have believed the reigning cultural lie about what makes us attractive. And if you’re a man, and you celebrate femininity only as it presents itself in beauty and tenderness, please consider widening your view of what it means to value women. Consider strength, intelligence, passion, and compassion.

I want businesses and government systems and certainly churches to be led more and more often by women. I believe that men and women would both benefit from it in dozens of ways. But if that’s going to happen, I think we have to declare a princess-free zone. No tiaras, no Girls Gone Wild, no pretending we can’t carry things. No fairytales, no waiting around to be rescued, and absolutely no playing dumb."

Now, I have always liked the idea of Princesses and Queens and Kings. For a while growing up, I was obsessed with Queen Elizabeth I and her father King Henry VIII. I loved learning about everything of that monarchy.

But I also agree that some girls let themselves get consumed in this idea and they don't even realize it. Its society bearing down on them that they must fit this mold to be the defenseless one.

My roommate and I have a bunkbed. Because of circumstances, it took us a while to put it together. Basically because we didn't have time. During this time of not having the bunkbeds made her boyfriend told us "Do you want me to put the beds together?" And he asked it in such a condescending way that it immediately made me think that he thought we would not be able to do it ourselves. So I took the defensive. And brushed him off that he didn't need to do that. (P.S. I may be down playing this exchange and may have said other things.) All he had to do was to ask if he could "help" us put the beds together and I would not have been so defensive.

And did her boyfriend really think we were too helpless to put the beds together? Knowing him, probably only a little. But he also just wants to be the guy in the relationship and be there for his girlfriend. And I can respect him for that.

And no matter what guys say about not wanting to have a dumb girl in their life, there is some part of them that subconsciously searches for that. And that's good. Guys should protect the girls in their lives and strive to take care of them. I just don't know how to be that kind of girl yet. I'm learning though.

Complaining.

Sometimes I complain a lot. Or maybe you could call it venting. Or maybe I just want someone to say, "Man that sucks Jane." That's it. I don't really want to answer the question "Why?" about whatever I'm feeling. I don't want to hear about how your life may or may not be more difficult. I just want to complain.



So I try to be careful to who I complain (or vent) to. I don't like people knowing that I am an ornery person at times so it takes a special person to complain to. (Except I'm telling all four of you that read my blog regularly. The vain person in me would like to think its more but its probably not. And I'm okay with that.)



I guess the point is, when you say something that I don't like to hear after I complain to you, then I find myself avoiding you when I need to vent.



Anyway, the other day, I found myself discussing how crappy my schedule was lately because I have less free time then I had originally thought for this last wonderful month of summer of being an undergrad student. I was "venting" to my friend Leary (his last name) and he just looked at me and said "You picked your major Jane." And I immediately knew I would not be

"discussing" things with him anymore.



But as I sit here on my couch, aching from standing at stupid high school football practice, dreading the start of tomorrow's practice, wishing someone would do some myofascial trigger point release on my neck (Nicole?), those words keep ringing in my head.



You picked your major.



So convicting. And so true.



And really, complaining does nobody any good.

Way down at south hills.

From APU, travel about five miles south on Barranca St, take a right on Cameron and you will be at South Hills High School.

This is my current life: High School Football.

And let me tell you, its different then what I am used to. At APU, its a Christian atmosphere, with dedicated players, intense, short practices and people my age. At South Hills, I hear multiple cuss words, inappropriate comments to the "water girls," and coaches who don't know how to coach. (I'm not saying I could be better at this part but at least I would take it seriously.)

And as the days go on, it is growing on me. Its becoming endearing. And really its probably the setting that I want to be at in the future. And I know that I would have those players cease their cussing within a week. At least while they are around me and in the Athletic Training Room. That part is definitely not growing on me.

The other day we had to call the ambulance. And by we, I mean me. It was almost exhilarating putting the emergency action plan into actual action. I think the hardest part was when Mr. L (my new clinical instructor) had me talk to the kid's mom. She had no idea what was happening and only had me to bridge that gap. I could tell that she was really close to tears and she also told me that she was pregnant. It was just so real at that moment.

The kid is fine. No broken anything. Thankfully.

But while I was on the phone, we didn't know that. It could have been anything.

I feel like I talk about athletic training a lot. But its currently my life. They have been doing two a days. Get there at 8:40. Leave at 12:00 (ish). Come back at 3:30. Leave when the sun sets (About 7:40). Next week they start school so it will slow down a bit meaning, it will only be one practice. I think I expected it to be fewer hours and more laid back in terms of injuries. But its about the same amount of hours and its definitely laid back but way more injuries than college. But not as severe. So there are tradeoffs. As in everything in life.

P.S. I took the pictures with my phone all stealth like. I feel like blogs are better with visual aids.

coolest job ever.

Ok so I have been hecka busy since I've gotten back from Chicago. Well, not hecka, but moderately. I seem to not be able to stop. I slow down some. But never just stop because that is not the type of person I will ever be.

I have been helping out at football practice with APU and its been quite interesting being a senior and knowing more about football and having the players themselves respect you and ask specifically for you. Whether its to tape ankles or ask an opinion. Honestly, its not just interesting, its been great.

Today was probably my last day of helping out at APU because today I also get to start my rotation at South Hills High School. But it was a great last day:

I was standing by the Offensive line (they were doing a drill against the defensive line) when one of the players put his hand up. His ring finger was definitely not the way it was supposed to be. I was like "crap, I hope he walks to the other student that was over there." Because if he came over to me, it meant that I would have to make a decision and take care of it. And since I was closer he walked over to me. I radio-d Glory (the head athletic trainer with football) that there was a dislocated finger. He said to stabilize it and he'll be right over.

But the player kept saying, "Just put it back in."

So I took a deep breath and did just that.

Ok, honestly, it took me a few tries. But it went back in. Nothing was broken. I taped it up and he went back in the next play.

Can I just say that it was so exhilarating? If the player had come to me a year ago, I would have just waited for Glory. But honestly, I feel like I have just grown so much in this past year. And I'm excited for this next year. And the many stories I will have about the high school players.

Who knows where this life will take me. But if I am doing this the rest of my life, I'm pretty sure I would have the coolest job ever. And that was just a dislocated finger.

Nicole Sandford.

Chicago brought me to a wonderful lady named Nicole Sandford.

She is the light of my life. She's a fiery spirit with a huge heart for God. She's from Seattle and she is now the apprentice for CSM Chicago. Basically this means that she has a year long internship with CSM. She'll be at the same ministry site all year and rarely (if ever) host groups.

She is probably the best encourager in the world. But its not fake. Its so genuine and real and you can just tell that she means what she says. And at the same time, she has this streak in her that makes you realize that you would not want to get in a fight with her.

She understood me when I didn't understand myself in Chicago and she enlightened me to the wonderful world of frosted shredded wheats and peanut butter. I miss her a lot right now. Nicole, please come back to me?

California Beginnings

So I am back in the state of California. It is so weird to think that only three days ago I was 2000 miles away in Chicago.

Right when I landed, my parents took me to Huntington Beach where my sisters were at so that I could see them and the kiddos. There was also a fabulous sunset that night. It's amazing how smog and the ocean can just enhance the sunset. Of course I took multiple pictures. I'm only subjecting you all to one of them.

Tomorrow I go back to my apartment near school. And Sunday I start orientation for Athletic Training. Sometimes I feel like I never was in Chicago. And then I look at all 2800 of my photos and realize that this past summer really did happen.

I'm glad to be back. But I can't wait to go back again.