Thursday, January 30, 2014
Monday, January 27, 2014
Pretty Close to True (or, From the Argentine giant Jorge Luis Borges' genius, I)
Lectores
De aquel hidalgo de cetrina y seca
tez y de heroico afán se conjetura
que, en víspera perpetua de aventura,
no salió nunca de su biblioteca.
La crónica puntual que sus empeños
narra y sus tragicómicos desplantes
fue soñada por él, no por Cervantes,
y no es más que una crónica de sueños.
Tal es también mi suerte. Sé que hay algo
inmortal y esencial que he sepultado
en esa biblioteca del pasado
en que leí la historia del hidalgo.
Las lentas hojas vuelve un niño y grave
sueña con vagas cosas que no sabe.
De aquel hidalgo de cetrina y seca
tez y de heroico afán se conjetura
que, en víspera perpetua de aventura,
no salió nunca de su biblioteca.
La crónica puntual que sus empeños
narra y sus tragicómicos desplantes
fue soñada por él, no por Cervantes,
y no es más que una crónica de sueños.
Tal es también mi suerte. Sé que hay algo
inmortal y esencial que he sepultado
en esa biblioteca del pasado
en que leí la historia del hidalgo.
Las lentas hojas vuelve un niño y grave
sueña con vagas cosas que no sabe.
Wednesday, January 22, 2014
How the nicest person at Union became the nicest person at Union: Darla Peterson
It's raining, and my shoes are leaking. I'm making the long trek to the Jorgensen Hall, backwoods at Union were friends go and disappear, only to emerge four years later with a degree and a tired, accomplished look. One of the reasons no one has gone (too) crazy in there, I hear, is because of Mrs. Darla Peterson. There's people that swear she's the nicest person on campus. I've witnessed that niceness my freshman year, in the form of a candy dish she has out for students needing a slight pick-me-up. So in the planning for collecting stories about calling, I instantly thought of her and approached Mrs. Peterson about a possible interview. She was all for it.
Her office isn't the most accessible place in the building, ("but it will be in the new building!" she says) but it always manages to stay full of students and people. I walk in, and it is full of people. There's two important looking people in Dr. Wolfe's office (she's the Math and Science Division head), a teacher making copies, and a student worker filing papers away. Mrs. Peterson looks up from her computer and smiles. "Pablo! Yes, I remembered. Where do you want to talk?"
"Wherever is most convenient, I guess." I haven't spent much time in this building since my freshman year, so I don't know the best interview-worthy spots.
"Okay. Let's go to the scales room, we can talk in there." She leads me to the room I remember most out of General Chem. I messed up pretty badly once in a lab there, and I don't think my group has forgiven me yet.
"So," she begins, pulling up a couple of chairs, "remind me what you're writing about."
"Okay. Well, I'm working with a spiritual mentor this semester who also happens to be playing a pretty big role in the new calling program for freshmen. One of the things I'm working on is just listening more, so my mentor proposed I go around campus collecting stories about calling from staff and a couple of students."
"Oh okay, so you get different views."
"Yeah, that's what I'm shooting for." There is a second of silence. I realize a prompt might not be out of place here. "So, I guess, to start out with, I want to see what 'calling' means to you, what is your personal definition of calling." Mrs. Peterson sighs and thinks for a bit.
"Calling, for me, is God's plan for my life. I believe God has a plan for my life, even though God's plan and our plan aren't always parallel."
I'm curious. So I go straight to the point. "How did you come about that definition?"
Mrs. Peterson smiles. "I always thought I'd become a teacher. I wanted to do Task Forcing and maybe even serve as a student missionary. Thankfully, God was okay with my plan.
I came to Union and became an education major, and I eventually went to Enterprise Academy as a Task Force worker. I also served as a student missionary in Zimbabwe, where I taught. Later on, I would teach for one year at Sioux Falls, where I gained a new respect for teachers, because," she almost looks around mischievously, "parents can be a pain!"
I laugh, but in my notes I'm way behind: Mrs. Peterson is very excited. She continues, "Also, while here at Union, I met Rocky, my husband. I wanted to be a mom, a stay at home mom, to be there for my children. Again, God was okay with my plans. I am blessed with four daughters, and I stayed at home until all of them began school.
At that point, I had been out of work for 10 years, and we needed some extra income for their schooling. So I applied for Target and was hired. In fact, I worked there for seven years."
"Wow, how did you end up at Union?" I ask, maybe a bit too eagerly.
"God," she says without hesitation. "He told me it was time to step out of my comfort zone."
"Hmm," I say, but I can tell she can read my eyes. I want to hear more.
"A lady who I knew saw me at Target one day and told me, 'you should come to Union.' I laughed it off then, I mean, I had been out of the workforce for 10 years and at Target for another seven! I didn't think I could do this anymore. She insisted, though, and even offered to help me with my resume. So we did that, and we had an interview set up with Dr. Abbey, the former head of Math and Science. I got the job, and even was put into the intro to computers class so I could better learn how to use the computer for this job as office manager."
"That's amazing," I say. "God really put some big opportunities open for you."
"You know Pablo, it's not just on the big things that He's opened doors. Sometimes, it's the little things, too."
"Definitely."
"We recently sold our house of 21 years, and for a long time, no matter what we did, the house was not bought. Rocky and I prayed about it, and we never questioned His listening to our prayers. We ended up selling our house and finding a good apartment for my husband and me while we transitioned."
I want to get this story back to the "calling" aspect. I know that the house story might not be completely related, but it establishes Mrs. Peterson's trust in God, and I can tell that, at least to her, this is paramount in hearing and answering your call.
"So why do you decide to stay and minister to students year after year?" I ask, not really knowing how she would answer the question. It's a bit vague, but I like the open ended approach.
"I want to let God use me, not to teach, but to be taught. I want to be His hands, His feet. I've worked with 2-3-year-olds in Sabbath School, and other age groups, but college is a good fit. The students are supportive, and I want to be supportive, too."
"If I were here asking for advice, a fool-proof way to follow my calling, what do I need to know?"
Mrs. Peterson smiles. I have a feeling she's had this question asked to her before multiple times. "Go for opportunities you have, volunteer, intern--let God lead you. Let Him mold you into who He is wherever you travel. He's not going to give you a map, instead, in whatever road you choose, He can and will still lead you."
I write the answer down. I should have ended the interview ten minutes ago, so I think hard of how to tie this up. In the meantime, I cover up the increasingly more awkward silence by jotting down a couple more notes. Then it hits me.
"Okay, this will be the last question," I say.
"Okay," she smiles (she really does smile a lot).
"I came with a lot of questions, and I think life is all about answering questions. But what is one question I should answer as I go on?"
She doesn't pause for a second. "How is God working through my life?"
Beautiful, I think. "Well, Mrs. Peterson," I say as I close my black Composition book, "Thank you so much for your time, it was an absolute pleasure."
"The pleasure was mine, Pablo."
We shake hands, and then she says, "Before you leave, let me pray for you."
Her office isn't the most accessible place in the building, ("but it will be in the new building!" she says) but it always manages to stay full of students and people. I walk in, and it is full of people. There's two important looking people in Dr. Wolfe's office (she's the Math and Science Division head), a teacher making copies, and a student worker filing papers away. Mrs. Peterson looks up from her computer and smiles. "Pablo! Yes, I remembered. Where do you want to talk?"
"Wherever is most convenient, I guess." I haven't spent much time in this building since my freshman year, so I don't know the best interview-worthy spots.
"Okay. Let's go to the scales room, we can talk in there." She leads me to the room I remember most out of General Chem. I messed up pretty badly once in a lab there, and I don't think my group has forgiven me yet.
"So," she begins, pulling up a couple of chairs, "remind me what you're writing about."
"Okay. Well, I'm working with a spiritual mentor this semester who also happens to be playing a pretty big role in the new calling program for freshmen. One of the things I'm working on is just listening more, so my mentor proposed I go around campus collecting stories about calling from staff and a couple of students."
"Oh okay, so you get different views."
"Yeah, that's what I'm shooting for." There is a second of silence. I realize a prompt might not be out of place here. "So, I guess, to start out with, I want to see what 'calling' means to you, what is your personal definition of calling." Mrs. Peterson sighs and thinks for a bit.
"Calling, for me, is God's plan for my life. I believe God has a plan for my life, even though God's plan and our plan aren't always parallel."
I'm curious. So I go straight to the point. "How did you come about that definition?"
Mrs. Peterson smiles. "I always thought I'd become a teacher. I wanted to do Task Forcing and maybe even serve as a student missionary. Thankfully, God was okay with my plan.
I came to Union and became an education major, and I eventually went to Enterprise Academy as a Task Force worker. I also served as a student missionary in Zimbabwe, where I taught. Later on, I would teach for one year at Sioux Falls, where I gained a new respect for teachers, because," she almost looks around mischievously, "parents can be a pain!"
I laugh, but in my notes I'm way behind: Mrs. Peterson is very excited. She continues, "Also, while here at Union, I met Rocky, my husband. I wanted to be a mom, a stay at home mom, to be there for my children. Again, God was okay with my plans. I am blessed with four daughters, and I stayed at home until all of them began school.
At that point, I had been out of work for 10 years, and we needed some extra income for their schooling. So I applied for Target and was hired. In fact, I worked there for seven years."
"Wow, how did you end up at Union?" I ask, maybe a bit too eagerly.
"God," she says without hesitation. "He told me it was time to step out of my comfort zone."
"Hmm," I say, but I can tell she can read my eyes. I want to hear more.
"A lady who I knew saw me at Target one day and told me, 'you should come to Union.' I laughed it off then, I mean, I had been out of the workforce for 10 years and at Target for another seven! I didn't think I could do this anymore. She insisted, though, and even offered to help me with my resume. So we did that, and we had an interview set up with Dr. Abbey, the former head of Math and Science. I got the job, and even was put into the intro to computers class so I could better learn how to use the computer for this job as office manager."
"That's amazing," I say. "God really put some big opportunities open for you."
"You know Pablo, it's not just on the big things that He's opened doors. Sometimes, it's the little things, too."
"Definitely."
"We recently sold our house of 21 years, and for a long time, no matter what we did, the house was not bought. Rocky and I prayed about it, and we never questioned His listening to our prayers. We ended up selling our house and finding a good apartment for my husband and me while we transitioned."
I want to get this story back to the "calling" aspect. I know that the house story might not be completely related, but it establishes Mrs. Peterson's trust in God, and I can tell that, at least to her, this is paramount in hearing and answering your call.
"So why do you decide to stay and minister to students year after year?" I ask, not really knowing how she would answer the question. It's a bit vague, but I like the open ended approach.
"I want to let God use me, not to teach, but to be taught. I want to be His hands, His feet. I've worked with 2-3-year-olds in Sabbath School, and other age groups, but college is a good fit. The students are supportive, and I want to be supportive, too."
"If I were here asking for advice, a fool-proof way to follow my calling, what do I need to know?"
Mrs. Peterson smiles. I have a feeling she's had this question asked to her before multiple times. "Go for opportunities you have, volunteer, intern--let God lead you. Let Him mold you into who He is wherever you travel. He's not going to give you a map, instead, in whatever road you choose, He can and will still lead you."
I write the answer down. I should have ended the interview ten minutes ago, so I think hard of how to tie this up. In the meantime, I cover up the increasingly more awkward silence by jotting down a couple more notes. Then it hits me.
"Okay, this will be the last question," I say.
"Okay," she smiles (she really does smile a lot).
"I came with a lot of questions, and I think life is all about answering questions. But what is one question I should answer as I go on?"
She doesn't pause for a second. "How is God working through my life?"
Beautiful, I think. "Well, Mrs. Peterson," I say as I close my black Composition book, "Thank you so much for your time, it was an absolute pleasure."
"The pleasure was mine, Pablo."
We shake hands, and then she says, "Before you leave, let me pray for you."
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