Hello. This is your life. You have absolutely NO idea what you’re doing, do you?

As many of you know, I have taught communication classes for the past twelve years at the local university, but have done some contract teaching (written comm., public speaking, business writing, medical terminology, CPR/BLS, etc.) at various community colleges in the valley. I have continued to teach on contract throughout my life experiences: marriage, kids, two full-time careers, divorce, etc. I love it and the hours are fabulous because they allow me to keep an extremely flexible schedule that allows me to be available to my kids at the drop of a hat if/when the need arises. As I've said in a previous blog, I chose to be an educator because I "hope" individuals seek to push themselves beyond their perceived limitations for the purpose of obtaining knowledge they can actually utilize in their lives and in their enduring pursuit of "happyness" (NOTE: not a misspelling). I honestly "hope" to be a tool of inspiration to my students and "give" them something that will benefit their lives. I've always felt that it's my way of giving back to society, throwing something in, and contributing in some positive way.

Again, as many of you know, especially my close personal friends, I had a very negative experience last semester that has caused me to reevaluate what I'm doing and why I'm doing it. People change, the classroom environment has evolved as generations pass through from "Generation X", to "Generation Y," and finally to "Generation God knows WHY?" Add to that one of the strangest cultures I've ever experienced (The Utah Mormon Culture) and it makes for one hell of a ride! But this past semester was a big turning point for me.

Last semester: From day one a male student (6'5" and burly) chose to be disruptive and disrespectful, chit-chatting endlessly with his friends, and heckling me as I lectured often interjecting sexual comments in an effort to publicly bully and humiliate me. As the semester progressed I spoke with him in front of his peers, one-to-one, and in the presence of the department chair to make it clear his behavior was inappropriate, unwelcome, intimidating, and bordered on sexual harassment. During his more extreme bouts I even asked him to leave the classroom on a couple of occasions. The last week of class while I was seated on a stool behind a podium and surrounded by students, therefore rendering me incapable of moving to any large degree, this student pushed his way through the crowd so he was next to me and rubbed himself up against me in an obvious effort to intimidate me.

Following this incident I contacted my direct supervisor who I had been keeping informed throughout the semester, explained that I thought it would be extremely beneficial for this particular student (and some troubled friends/classmates of his who drew to him like magnets) to receive a firm lecture from the department chair himself regarding common courtesy, showing respect for instructors, appropriate classroom etiquette at an institution of higher learning, not to mention the basics of sexual harassment. She said she'd speak with the chair but wasn't hopeful he'd agree to taking such action. While speaking with her I also chose to elaborate on the fact that taking NO action would send the message, to our next generation of leaders, that not only are their actions acceptable but being personally responsible was a thing of the past. I ended the conversation telling her point blank, that if this particular student chose to press up against me again he'd get a knee to the groin hard enough to drop him and likely ruin his opportunities for ever fathering a child. She said she wouldn't blame me.

My final thoughts on the experiences of last semester are, why give the best I have to someone who is only going to piss on it?

Fast forward to present day: I typically don't teach during the summer months. They reserve those classes for full professors with tenure who are being paid regularly and may as well make themselves productive. Being bored, not wanting to dwell on the negative experiences of the past, searching for new opportunities, and hoping to add a little variety to my life I decided to apply for several jobs. Some of you may have read the blog about the position at the prison with the warden's office. I chose to cancel that interview. After all, I'm looking for positive changes in my life and maybe a more simplistic approach to life. After much searching, I decided to take a job at the Shopette on Hill Air Force Base. For those of you who don't know what that is, it's basically a mini-mall (similar to all mini-malls across America, although NOT in Utah) where military personnel can purchase odds and ends, coffee, cigarettes, and booze. Yep! I'm the cigarette girl!



I'm the new kid, I say little (if anything) about my personal life and I certainly haven't announced my professional or educational accolades to anyone. I just smile and am friendly to the customers and staff (in spite of the cattiness that rears its ugly head when there are more than two women within close proximity of one another … and I just let that roll of my back). I do my job and leave at the end of my shift knowing full well I'm leaving everything behind me. I don't have to go home and grade papers, field telephone calls and email messages from students, reiterate the same principle time and time again (not because it's difficult, but because no one gave a damn to listen the first time), and if someone does by chance sexually harass or bully me I'll simply page a manager or Security Police (and we've actually had them escort people off the base before). In short, I don't have to deal with a whole lot of drama.

I get to use the fabulous gym without fear of running into my students like I did at school, I get to make casual conversation with people I know or am getting to know as they come and go from the facility, and I'm guaranteed to be out of there when the clock strikes quitting time.

I don't love it or hate it … I really haven't been there long enough to go either way … I just do my thing, smiling throughout the day, and then I'm off!

Nonetheless, I do have a few concerns. Is what I "do" a reflection of who I am? Because I'm the cigarette girl instead of the educator with fancy certificates in dusty frames hung across the wall, does that make me less appealing in the eyes of … anyone? In some ways I feel like I'm right back where I was in high school working at the mall. But all my life experiences since those innocent years will never allow me to be the naïve girl, dressed ever so fashionably, strutting across the sales floor without a care in the world.

It's nice to know that I can go back to teaching if/when I decide. I've also put out some feelers to other colleges, tech schools, and even explored the world of tutoring. Regardless of where I go or what I choose to do I'll always be a woman with a petite physical stature; both which can be perceived as weaknesses or vulnerabilities.

Have any of you ever made a drastic change in hopes of giving yourself some breathing room, some peace in your life? Did you regret it or was it beneficial?

How much does a person's job effect your perception of who they are?

Will there ever come a day when a person isn't judged, intimidated, or treated differently based on their gender and/or physical size?