Leagues

My good friend, Amber Julian, is a firm believer that "leagues" do not exist. Whenever I say, "I like him, but he is way out of my league", she is always sure to jump on me as soon as possible and correct me that there is absolutely no such thing.

We are not born into leagues. That is where Amber is correct. However, I do think people create leagues.

Recently, I was employed at the store Pacific Sun at the mall. I realize that I am not the typical "Pac Sun" customer or employee. I am certainly not as "hip" or "hot" or "cool" or "trendy". However, I did not realize it was going to be such a big deal that I was hired there.

I will openly admit that I am not fond of the mall. Shopping is not something that interests me. I get most of my clothing from Goodwill or Teen Challenge. I enjoy altering older clothing and making things my own. Money spent at these stores, often times, goes toward a good a cause and it is my way of recycling. If I buy clothes at Goodwill, I can ensure a small child in an impoverished country is not mass producing it. If you have the time, you can find some neat things at thrift stores. There are plenty of reasons I shop at these seemingly "cheap" or "gross" stores.

I am attending college soon at Missouri State University in Springfield, MO. I am not made of money, and my parents certainly are not, and, unfortunately, I was not the best student. I put most of my focus in Speech and Debate and Drama Club because those clubs interested me the most. Therefore, I invested most of my time in them. Scholarships did not pour in and I am still talking to the school about financial aid. It was essential that I get a job this summer.

Luckily, my church employed me to paint murals. I am on my second one, and though I like having a flexible boss and hours, the money was still not enough to really help my father out. I posted a note on Facebook about needing a job and was contacted about applying at Pacific Sun.

I got the job. Suddenly, I keep hearing, "You got hired at Pac Sun?" Yes, Bethany Elfrink is working at Pacific Sun. There is a specific group of people that work at the store and shop at the store, I realize, but is it so shocking that I got a job? It is not as if I was accepted into a ballet program or that Pacific Sun is secretly an exclusive country club. I needed money, so I got a job.

I have received a few glares while working. If not glares, then looks that seem to suggest, "Why is she working here?"

My. God. Really?

People are people. It is really a simple truth. Why can humans not accept this? I cannot name a soul who is "better" than me, and the reverse of that, I know that I am not above anyone else. We are all equal. It is ridiculous that I am emphasizing this and it has absolutely nothing to do with race or gender. No, it is because of these strange sub-cultures, odd social circles that we cannot help but create.

This world is filled with hate. Racism still exists and, as a "raging" feminist, I will be the first to tell you how live and well sexism is. Do you really need to add more space between one another? Is it necessary that we continue to exclude one another due to the way we dress or look?

Seriously. Get over yourself and remove your tragically cool scowl from your face. We get it. You are awesome. But, remember, you are not better than me or anyone else, despite your expensive clothing or eclectic musical taste.

Note: I love all of my Pacific Sun co-workers. You all are great.

Grandmother Elfrink

I do not typically keep a journal, but if something is really bothering me, and I feel I cannot share it with anyone else, I write it down. I found a scrap of paper in my room that was from only a few weekends ago. Now I wonder why I did not share this.

"Today was Mya's birthday party. Mya is my first cousin once removed. Overall, I had an enjoyable afternoon spending time with my father's side of the family. I love seeing my Aunt Emily and her daughter LeAnn, who I have always felt really close to. LeAnn is actually Mya's mother. She also has a little boy, Mya's older brother, named Christian.

I had heard that my grandmother was taking a nap, which I thought was a bit odd. My grandmother is in her mid-eighties and still lives alone. My Aunt Emily takes care of her daily and is a huge part of her life. I am very grateful that Emily looks after her. However, I cannot remember a time where my grandmother just slept in my aunt's home.

My Aunt Emily woke my grandmother up and I soon realized why my grandmother was napping. She was staying with my Aunt Emily because she had broken her pelvis. There were several breaks, actually.

Immediately I could read the pain on my grandmother's face. I began to tear up. I cannot imagine the pain of a broken pelvis. My grandmother was walking on a broken pelvis. She had a walker, of course, but I am sure that only helped so much.

My grandmother sat on a bar stool behind the counter and smiled at me. I hugged her and placed my hand on her frail, very thin shoulder. Just touching my grandmother I could tell she was weaker. There was a noticeable difference in her size. I placed my other hand on the counter.

What happened next I do not think I will ever be able to forget. My grandmother laid her head on my hand and said,

'I just wish I wasn't so much trouble.'

My God. My octogenarian grandmother who broke her pelvis in several areas felt as if she was being trouble. My eyes filled with tears and there was no hiding it this time. They were pouring down my face and I knew I looked like a real fool, but I could not fathom the truth behind my grandmother's words.

It makes sense now that I am writing this down. Whenever I visit my grandmother, she greets my father and I, and as if expected to, offers us food, drink, and whatever else we may need or want. She is always walking around fixing this and that and striving to be the perfect hostess.

When my grandfather was alive, his role was to sit and talk. He was a wonderful man and loved playing with my brothers and I when we were little. However, in his later years, he did not do much talking. My grandmother took care of him completely when his Alztimers was the worst. My grandfather had no idea who I was when he passed.

I know that it is typical for elderly people to feel useless, and to fear that feeling, the older they grow. However, my grandfather never seemed as distraught as my grandmother. It is obvious my grandmother has a touch of Alztimers. There are several symptoms that suggest so. But, through her mild dimension, my grandmother still managed to feel useless. She could still feel that she was not committing to her role fully.

I understand my grandmother grew up in a time period when women were expected to be a certain way. I know my grandmother, at one point, was a regular Susy Homemaker.

I just hope that when I am eighty and am not doing so well, I will not feel like trouble when needing help."

I think a lot of women today will feel useless when they are eighty.