Welcome to the class blog! The John Jay - Vera Fellows Program is a collaborative effort between John Jay College and the spin-off agencies of the Vera Institute of Justice, combining an internship and participation in a seminar taught by faculty from John Jay's Interdisciplinary Studies Program. (To see a video about the John Jay - Vera Fellows Program, click here.) Part of the seminar experience is weekly participation in the class blog, which keeps the conversation going from week to week and will be a place for you to share your thoughts and concerns about the materials discussed in seminar as well as the internship experience. The opinions expressed on this blog do not necessarily reflect the views of the Vera Institute of Justice or its spin-off organizations. While the blog is open to the public and anyone, theoretically, can comment, only class members and invited guests will be able to post. You can also look for us on our student and alumni page on Facebook.
Each student has been assigned one week to write the "post." Please post within 24 hours after class. Every week, each student must comment on the post (feel free to comment more than once). Please comment by Monday afternoon to allow time for further questions and responses and so that we can read all the entries before class.

Monday, May 3, 2010

Chatting About the Future

After a hard week's work for you Verons (the Tuesday event and Thursday's seminar), I want to use the blog this week to process any thoughts/concerns/fears/dilemmas you have had as a result of thinking about your futures. So please comment on anything that you have been thinking about, whether that be something that was said/asked during the event, something that was said/asked/not asked during the session on your resumes, or something that you have been mulling over in terms of your paper.

For some of you, the next few weeks represent the end of your college careers. For all of us, it represents the end of Vera Seminar.2. Feel free to reflect on any aspect of these experiences, or concerns about future experiences. It might be nice for you to write shorter comments, but to check in and comment more frequently this week since we all might be seeking feedback.

15 comments:

Neethu said...

Yesterday, I was picking Dave's (a teacher at CASES) brain on why there aren't many girls in CASES and he basically said that they have a hard time getting the judges to agree to letting many of the girls in the program because many of the girls who have committed felonies have extremely serious charges. Whereas many of the boys in the program have minor drug charges, many of the girls they tried to bring to the program had serious drug charges such as selling or moving high quantities (kilo) of drugs. Of course, less girls are charged with felonies so that's another reason for less girls in the program.
As for future plans, I'm not entirely sure what I will be doing next year. I do plan to go to grad school (most likely for neuropsychology) but I have done so many different things at John Jay that has set me on so many different paths, that now I'm not entirely sure what path I want to pick. Hopefully a break while working/interning will help me decide what exactly I want to do.

Professor Reitz said...

As long as I'm signed in, I figured I'd point out a few new blog features. There is a link to Matt Zuckerman's righteous film about Vera in the blog's intro blurb (I could watch it over and over and ...). There is also a new section on Vera Alumni. Since you all will soon be Vera Alumni, I'll be putting your future plans up there, too.
Just to piggy-back on Neethu's comment, I went to grad school right after college because I needed to support myself (I had a scholarship) and because I was terrified of not knowing what I was going to do with the rest of my life. I sorely regret it. Not studying literature (though I have my days), but going straight to grad school. I could have earned the same, small amount of money working in a bookstore and I would have had the kind of time in my life that I can never get back (kid-free, spouse-free, unplanned, limited expectations). It's the kind of "not entirely sure" time that Neethu described and it is not something to be afraid of but something to embrace. I know what you're thinking: "Easy for you to say...".

Danielle said...

http://www.paulgraham.com/love.html
I just googled "how to do what you love" & I found this great article. It's really entertaining and "normalizes" the feeling Professor Reitz described.

Prof. Stein said...

Ah, Danielle, but how do we figure out what it is we love? And will that love remain stable over time?

I think of my own choices as having been increasingly less driven by need (for identity, money, acceptance) over time and more shaped by the peculiarities of my own talents and desires, although each iteration has reflected similar themes. But I am not certain that I could have gotten here without a "there". Part of the developmental process of finding what you love is the grueling work of weeding out what you don't, and finding the confidence to take risks (which sometimes, in the real world, can only be achieved when you no longer have as many pressing survival needs, substantive or psychological).

Like the doctor in Danielle’s article, none of us want our lives at 50 to have been planned and implemented by a teenager. On the other hand, as someone who did a few 360s in the course of my lifetime-including going back to school in my 30s-reinvention carries burdens of its own, like being a junior colleague when you are old enough to be everyone’s grandma! These are not easy decisions.

I don’t know if you can do what you love right now. One thing I have found is that every piece of experience can be shifted into new realms and used in the service of accommodating and managing new encounters. There is nothing I did (even the unsavory stuff) that has not been used in the service of my new lives, and to great benefit. Try not to be afraid of doing something you hate. Have the underlying knowledge that, when you feel stuck, you can change course and maybe get a bit closer to finding out what you love.

Ana Rojas said...

I am graduating this month but I am not excited or scared. I am sadden. I will miss learning new stuff. I plan to go to law school in the fall of 2011, but I am afraid it won't be as much fun. I will be doing what I want, but I have the desire to keep learning about the world in general. Unfortunately, I have too many responsibilities, but I'll find a way to study the law with a little creative side project.

I am also nervous about becoming Jen White's legal assistant because it includes many more responsibilities, but I am excited about continuing to do what I love.

I also wanted to mention that today at LEAP, I had one of the most emotionally exhausting days. I had a client who cried through out our intake, and at one point I almost wanted to cry with her. I always told myself I could handle the emotions, I can, but it's hard. I wonder if it's normal to want to cry or a sign that I am doing something wrong?

amanda_moses said...

I have yet another year to graduate, but it feels like everything is changing so fast. I want to never grow up like Peter Pan, its not fair that childhood ends so quickly and responsibilities are endless. But nonetheless, I am happy that the Vera fellowship has helped me bridge so many gaps in my life. I am going to miss the class dearly. The total leadership has helped me manage my stress load a lot better, in fact I am applying the total leadership to my final paper. I just have so much information that touches so many subjects and its so hard to reign myself in on a single aspect. I am grateful that despite not being in the seminar class next semester, I will still be able to bridge over the connection to this paper to my final thesis. I am trying my best to keep it on an interdisciplinary level yet also keeping it on the same scope of the class and internship. Hopefully my paper will not bore the professors, but I am not going to lie its got a dense philosophical part, and to back up my arguments I am using narratives and a film.

Oh and by the way although my internship has not been as inspirational as the others, it did give me the experience in research that landed me an internship at Thomson Reuters. Thomson Reuters is one of the leading media outlets on press releases and media related research for top legal, financial, and business companies around the world. I am so excited because interning there brings me one step closer towards a career as a journalist. Also it is a few blocks away from my dream job, The New York Times. My internship has led me to believe that even though things don't go as planned, stick with it and you never know what will happen.

P.S. Did I mention I am like super excited about Thomson Reuters!!!

Unknown said...

Congratulations Amanda! That's terrific about the internship.

Professor Stein's words are so important: "Try not to be afraid of doing something you hate. Have the underlying knowledge that, when you feel stuck, you can change course and maybe get a bit closer to finding out what you love."

I've always followed that mantra and have taught it to my children. And I'd add: you can love more than one thing even if they seem contradictory!

It's also important to talk to people--all sorts of people, don't be afraid of that either. If someone doesn't "get" what you're struggling with (if they put you down, dismiss you), don't go silent, go elsewhere.

Also don't be afraid to go on "informational interviews" to check out what's out there in the world. Looking back, I wish I had had more opportunities to do that, to know the value of meeting with people from professions I'm interested in, to talk about the field, what they do, what the opportunities are like.

My own trajectory was very crooked-not at all linear. I didn't even discover anthropology--I mean REALLY discover it--until I was in my late 20s!

Here are some things I did along the way: traveled (with a husband and a dog) out of a van for a year; traveled solo for nearly 4 months throughout Western Europe with very little $ and one change of clothes; raised one child solo; raised another child with a spouse; was a schoolteacher; spent 8 years as a grad student/single mom/2-3 jobs at a time; a businesswoman; a scholar; a writer; a college professor....No wonder I am tired!

When I look back, I see that every decade of my life was qualitatively different from all the others.....

I'm at a new point now--a new decade. For the first time in 30 years, no children at home.

My next big goal: write a book I've tentatively titled: Writing My Father's Wars: An Intimate Ethnography of Violence, Dispossession and Diaspora. I'm still wracked with doubt: will I be able to do it? Can I write what I'm envisioning?

Here's how I get through: keep a list, mark it off, make goals, keep schedules, and force myself to work on it (whatever the "it" may be) even when I'm not in the mood. Everything I've accomplished has been due to: good time management, commitment and dedication, being (just a bit!) driven, and feeling the rush of time go by.

At the same time, it's important to slow down--take time to just rest, to think. Read a good book, but slowly, enjoying it, contemplating it. That's what I hope to do more of in the future...

Lisa Chan said...

I have been thinking a lot about my future lately, especially with my new job now as a counselor at a methadone maintenance clinic. My job is very rewarding and I enjoy going to work each day but all the other counselors seem to be experiencing burn out. I am just hoping that it doesn't happen to me as my caseload starts to roll in. I've been working hard at staying on top of everything and being organized - as someone from HSI advised.

I am happy with the connections that I have made at HSI. They're very supportive of my new career and I know that they are there for me if I need anything from referrals to random questions. I already know that housing is an issue that I will deal with at my new job and knowing that I can contact them for information is a great relief.

I must admit - It took me a while to get over the fact that I took a few years off after high school. I felt like I wasted those few years when I could have finished college earlier. At the time I was tired of school and needed a break so I worked until I was ready for college. I'm actually glad that I made that decision because I was more determined to do well and was happy to be in school. Law school is still my ultimate goal and my determination is still there.

Ana, as per your question about your emotions and your client, I think it's absolutely normal that you have these feelings. I remember at The Kenmore, we had a client come to the office and admit that he relapsed. As he was talking about how he felt, he began to break down and cry. I couldn't help but to think about hugging him and telling him that everything will be okay, but of course that would not be ethical. After that situation, we (program director, counselor and I) reflected back on what we thought and felt about what just happened. I was surprised to hear that we all felt the same way but there was nothing we can do but to help him seek further assistance. Having these emotions doesn't necessarily mean that we're doing a bad job but we just have to know how to control them.

Neethu said...

Professor Waterston's point about time management really struck me because I hope to write a book one day and the thing that most worries me is if I will have enough self-discipline to set deadlines for myself and make them. Right now, whether or not I set separate deadlines for myself, school sets deadlines for me and I know there will be consequences if I don't reach them. What can I threaten myself with to ensure I reach my deadlines? Hopefully I will be motivated to do what I have to do and I won't have to banish myself to my room.

Prof. Stein said...

On tears:

I have one client who tells me the most horrific things with completely dry eyes, sometimes even a giggle. If she uses a tissue when her allergies act up, I joke with her that she can take as many as she wants because "you haven't used up your therapy allotment." At times I find myself wanting to cry for her because she cannot cry for herself.


Crying (or wanting to) is a totally appropriate response to overwhemingly tragic circumstances. I have grown to see it as a great sign of health. It may be true that you have to watch silently and not share your own tears with clients but be aware of the tremendous service you do by being a silent witness with them, sharing that moment of emotion. By the way, while I wouldn't burst into tears with a client, I certainly have been known to say: "It's so sad (overwhelming, unfair); it makes me want to cry, too."

marling.montenegro said...

Ana, I also think it's perfectly normal to want to cry...
I actually think it's healthy to cry, to release some stress, although it's probably not good to do so while in front of a client. Just be careful, and be mindful of the dangers of compassion fatigue; you too Neethu... well, and the rest of the class as well.

This week, as I worked with more correction officers and CJA Staff members, I realized I could never be a correction officer because I would put in danger the safety of my fellow officers and myself as I attempt to try to help the inmates. The officers would not like me very much, and the inmates, according to the officers, would take advantage of my. It is so interesting to see the difference in opinions between the correction officers and the CJA staff!

I have always wondered where I would end up after college. I still have one more year, but I will probably take two to make sure I do the Masters right. My biggest fear has always been to be a complete failure. I cannot fail school, because that would mean failing my parents. They have sacrificed so much for their children to come to this country and receive an education. My Mother always told me that the only inheritance she will leave me is my education, and a shot at the "American Dream" (as materialistic as it is, but when you come from poverty, well it's a big deal). I have always felt the huge responsibility of potentially being the first professional in my family. I heard somewhere that once one member of a family goes to college, they erase poverty from their family. That's my responsibility.
My parents deserve the best, and I have to make sure that their sacrifices were not in vain.
So I do not know where I will go in life; that worries me every day.
I have one question to all the professors: is it true that if a woman wants to have a family, she must sacrifice her career goals?
I want a family in the future, but I do not, I cannot sacrifice my career goals. I do not want to be a paper pusher, nor do I want to reach forty and still have no children... How can one find the balance?

Professor Reitz said...

Interesting comments, everyone. I know we are on to Danielle's post soon, but I wanted to respond to Marling's moving comment and question. It is so interesting to hear your story about what the implications are of your going to college. When talking with friends and colleagues about teaching at John Jay, I often talk about how the students are frequently the first in their families to go to college (as opposed to where I went to college, where my roommate's dad was a senator and my rugby teammate had the same last name, not coincidentally, as the school library). The comment is always the same: "How fantastic! Because they went to college now all their kids will go to college!" And, indeed, my father was the first in his family to go to college and now both his daughters are college professors. So quite fantastic, and yet from your perspective I can see what an immense burden that is to shoulder. It is a powerful motivation, but it must feel very heavy at times. I will have to remember to ask my dad if he experienced such a burden. I'll let you know what he says.

About motherhood -- (almost) anyone can be a mother, from an itinerant farm laborer to the President (well, except in this country, but the Secretary of State is a mom!). So of course you can have kids and a job/career. But what I've experienced is that you are in a constant negotiation between the *kind* of job you have and the *kind* of mother you want to be (I don't mean good or bad, but rather more like hands-on, hands-off, super-organized or more laidback, younger, older, etc.). My mom was going to graduate school while I was growing up and this had two profound effects: 1) I saw how friendly the academic calendar was to parenting; and 2) I spent a lot of unstructured time with my mom. I can't imagine not spending a lot of time with my kids. It is a large reason why I went into academia (as opposed to the civil service, journalism, advertising, all of which involved long office hours and/or travel). But it has had its costs. Just tomorrow I'm moderating a conference at the Grad Center at CUNY. But I'm not one of the big keynote speakers, many of whom either don't have kids or had fewer kids or have a spouse at home or put off having kids until their careers were more established. (I had my first son in graduate school.) That's not the only reason for my "taking-the-long-way-round" career; spouse, geography, research interests, and luck are all very significant factors as well. But I'm a very hands-on mom. Occasionally, I think that maybe being more hands-off would actually be better for my kids! But I'm trying to give them what I got -- that feels important to me -- and that requires a lot of hours at home. People manage to figure out how to do the things that are important to them.

Unknown said...

My response is in two entries:

I’m not sure anyone will see this straggler of a post, written early Saturday morning, post our Thursday class, but I wanted to respond to Marling’s questions and concern:
“I have one question to all the professors: is it true that if a woman wants to have a family, she must sacrifice her career goals? I want a family in the future, but I do not, I cannot sacrifice my career goals. I do not want to be a paper pusher, nor do I want to reach forty and still have no children... How can one find the balance?”

In our world—the way our society is organized, it IS difficult to juggle motherhood and having a career but of course it can be done, it’s being done all the time but many, and while stressful at times, the two (motherhood/career) are not mutually exclusive. Remember Professor Stein’s lessons at the beginning of the year about how to bring together what seem to be separate parts of your life? Sometimes things ARE separate and the forces out of our control try to separate certain aspects of our lives. BUT we can also look for ways these can come together in small and large ways.

I learned from my mother that life’s not over ‘til it’s over. She taught me that I must fulfill my own potential and, at the same time, I can “be there” for others. Like many women of ALL generations, my mother worked and raised kids. So myth # 1: must sacrifice career goals for a family. The majority of women have always worked while raising a family. It’s just that when you get to the point where you can have a “career” (not just a job), you can actually have more choice, more control over shaping your work and family life, not less.

Here’s what I did. I always knew I wanted kids. I actually wanted lots of kids. I also knew that if I didn’t “find” my own passion, I would lose myself in family. For this reason, I worked with consciousness to discover what it was that I could identify with. Then I discovered anthropology. I didn’t study anthropology to become a professor, or a “this” or a “that.” I just wanted to study it. When I discovered anthropology, I knew I would never lose interest in it, and I haven’t. By the way, while on that road to discovery, I always worked.

Unknown said...

When I did have children (2 of them, 11 years apart), I also knew they were my #1 priority—they’d come first especially during their most vulnerable years. How did that translate into everyday life? I went to work. But I never took a position that required me to consistently be away from home during the early morning hours or after 6 PM. Once I was home, I turned off “work.” I was there for the kids. I was with them full-force. Dinner together every night. Available. That’s the way I got through graduate school raising Matthew on my own (no family around to help me; working 2-3 jobs at different point). Thank goodness for the 4 o’clock hour: that’s when I did a lot of my schoolwork. Once he was up, though, I was all his until he went to day care or school.

This does not mean to say that I wasn’t committed full-force to my schoolwork or work. I was. I just structured my time (the time-management thing) to get it all done and all done well. When I was in graduate school, I was the only one of the women in my cohort to have a child and the only one among my whole cohort to be a single parent (i.e., there were some men grad students with kids but they had wives!). I was the first of my cohort to graduate. I never took an incomplete (that’s what trips up grad students more than anything else, in my view). I finished all my work on time.

Showing the children that you are committed to them AND committed to yourself AND committed to the world, is invaluable. I’ve tried to teach my children that, and I think they’ve learned the lesson well.

Now that both my children are up and out in the world (the younger one is in college so she’s not entirely out in the world quite yet), I have more time to do the extra things I want to do. For example, if there is an evening lecture on a Tuesday night, I stay for it (rather than rush home).

Bottom line: it (juggling career and family) can be done. It’s done all the time. There are lots of models out there for how to do it—there’s not just one way. It’s good to hear about all the possibilities and take the tips where it works for you. I believe you’ve got to have a vision, and once you do, then do the work that you need to do to make the vision come true.

Emile Lokenauth said...

The biggest fear that I had for the future was graduating and not knowing what to do after. I always thought I would go to law school or grad school directly after I finished college as an undergrad. However, an overwhelming amount of people, including Professor Reitz-through her post-and workers at the Guardianship Project, have reassured me that the extra time off is not as harmful as it seems to be. Many of them have even promised that I would be better off taking a break, rather than "chugging" through school for another three to four years. Now, I am no longer afraid of the future. I am hopeful.