Tag Archives: mentoring

Big Sisters

Some folks like to characterize families by familiar stereotypes. Of course she did, she’s an only child. He’s acting out because his older sibling got all the attention. Of course she’s spoiled, she’s the baby. You’ve heard it all, I’m certain.

I’m the eldest. Yes, the most responsible. For everyone. Brought up by strict, I would say Teutonic because my father was German/Swiss, rules.

At first I always wanted an older brother, to protect me from bullies of course. But most of my life what I’ve missed is a big sister, someone I could go to for non-parental advice, someone who’s seen a bit more of life than I and could relate useful experiences.

When I got out in the working world, the real one after college (babysitting and summer gigs don’t count) there were no female mentors that I knew of. After a few years I finally got the best boss of my life, a woman, who let me actually do my job and grow in it. That was short-lived, however, and was followed by the absolute worst boss I ever had, a power-hungry megalomaniacal micro-manager who made my life a living Hell. She was female, as well.

Now that I’m all grown up and retired, I think of what my life would have been like with a sister as mentor in life and at work. I certainly would have made fewer mistakes, that’s a given. Perhaps I could have been a better mentor to my young colleagues if I’d had one myself.

Interestingly, I see it in the animal kingdom as well. For the past few months, we’ve been “adopted” by a discarded pup who has had some serious setbacks. She was abused and dumped here, afraid of human touch, ribs protruding with hunger, she craved affection but didn’t know how to get it. We think she was about nine months old as she came into heat a couple of months later.

Named Sara now, she is still an outdoor dog but does have a warm place to go on winter nights. I’d take “Princess” Lulu, my mini-Aussie apartment dog out for a walk on leash and Sara would copy everything Lulu did. I petted Lulu while she was standing still relieving herself and said “good girl” so that Sara would know that human touch and voices could be kind.

Sara was attacked on New Years’ Day by a big dog and the bites became infected immediately. She went through a horrible month of home-based ICU (Nurse Dee, here) and rehabilitation. She’s out and about now and we’re like proud parents watching her progress. She ate sitting up! She ate standing up for the first time! She walked, and the swelling is going down. Today, for example, she patrolled the house for the first time since her injuries. This is a major step, though she’s still dragging the leg quite a bit.

When she first came, in July, she started mimicking Lulu and would pee a few feet away, expecting verbal praise and petting for doing so. Same with #2. After the mauling and ICU (the dreaded wee wee pads) when she took her first steps she remembered that. Makes it easier for me to clean up, just one bag!

Similarly when Lulu was eight weeks old we had our first vet visit within 72 hours of buying her from the breeder 1,500 miles away. There were several stairs outside the vet’s office. Lulu learned to go up the stairs but there was an old dachshund about to leave the vet and go down the stairs. I asked the owner if we could watch. Downstairs went the Doxy, followed by little Lulu. How much time would it have taken me to explain it to her? All she needed was a mentor and she learned in a matter of seconds!

Mentors are so important. I’m getting more into volunteering in senior programs now and look forward to providing sought-after guidance for fellow volunteers given my decade of relevant experience. An important item to remember is not to over-share or be intrusive with advice that might be construed by the recipient as an intrusion. It’s important to be a good mentor, whether it be to siblings, colleagues or fellow volunteers. So be one! It’s gratifying to see a young person learn to fly and successfully solo! Cheers! Dee

Learning, Mastering, Mentoring

When I was six I learned to turn on the oven and make one of those canned cinnamon roll thingies that you bang on the counter. I was not allowed to put it in to or take it out of the oven. At age eight I had the Betty Crocker Boys and Girls Cookbook and made theme parties for our little brother: Kings and Queens; and a Pirate Treasure Hunt. With theme cakes and costumes and…. treasure!

Yes, I learned how to use a knife, a dull one, make grilled cheese, pancakes, toast and carrot curls.

In high school I started reading Gourmet. After college I went into the rat race then quit after nearly ten years. I spent my life savings on cooking school and it has served me well for 30 years. Shop the outside of the aisles. Inside only for needed rice and dry pasta. And tinned San Marzano tomatoes if in northern climates. I made my way through James Beard, Julia Child, Simca Beck, and the best authors of local/global cuisine including Piero in Italy.

I love teaching kids how to taste new things by making 10 toppings for pizza dough I made beforehand, give them the dough to roll out and top and place in the oven. Then I have them make their own dough to rise in their refrigerator overnight. Mentoring. Learning.

Time in the field, it was done. Fingers in hot sugar syrup. 700 degree loaves of bread to rack with bare hands. I did it all and learned so much throughout the process, that continues even though I am retired from my consulting career (non-food) and make food for my husband, dog and family and friends.

I have never lost the touch in any of my careers. Research, legislation, getting a crosswalk installed, then get re-painted two years later. Food is a never-ending passion, to learn something from the produce manager or butcher is a gift, every day. I’m the only client who brings in Pedernales chili or beef carbonnade for tasting.

People may get a bit rusty in their skills but if they’ve got the heart and guts, know what they’re dealing with they can brush up in a heartbeat. Trouble is, those who don’t know, pretend to know. They can’t learn what I learned over forty years in a weekend. Are my knife skills a little slow because of arthritis, or perhaps I had another profession for 12 years? Yes. Do I know more than any young cook about cooking and other endeavors? Yes.

My husband is the son of a dairyman and a nurse. He milked cows. No, I never did (fed one twin on formula in a 5 gallon bucket because cows shun a twin). When people interview my husband and find out his background and that his parents wanted him to go to college and graduate with a premier scientific degree and leave the farm, they want to hire him right away.

We are honest, forthright, and do not toot our own horns. What you see is what you get. I tried to get our old dog a “job” visiting hospice and was told no. Why? It’s not her sunny personality that has made her our neighborhood mascot. It’s that she eats frozen raw food and they think she’ll transmit disease. She’s nearly 12 years old, 80 in “people years.” I’m not going to change her food now, as it’s the only thing she’s been willing to eat since she was six months old.

We’re a family of mentors and there’s a crop of new pups. Perhaps she should mentor them in doggie etiquette. And how to steal a steak off a cutting board. Yes, every time I sent her to doggie camp she came back with a new bad habit, especially when they placed her as a pup with the older, docile ones. Cheers! Dee

Growing Up

We all have childhood stories. At age ten I was laughed at in the locker room changing for gym class for wearing an undershirt instead of a bra. When I told my mother I needed a bra, she laughed. Two weeks later she relented and bought me one, size 28AA. I didn’t need a bra. I NEEDED a bra because I went to school a year early and was always different. If something as simple as that stopped my class from laughing at me, I could fit in a bit.

While I’ve spent 20 years with abandoned and abused pets and feral cats (spay/neuter program) I’ve always had a soft spot for kids and adults who are different than the norm.

A few years ago I got a note from a gal with whom we used to walk to Catholic education classes every Wednesday. She walked with my younger sister. I walked with her younger brother. As they walked behind us they ridiculed him terribly. I stood up for him every time and told him to be himself always. I was eight. I had no idea about about how I was created or that other people were different. It didn’t matter. I was a little kid but wouldn’t allow anyone to be bullied.

Many years later his sister contacted me and thanked me for being kind to her brother and that now they are the best of friends. It’s tough to be different in any way in our society. My husband and I are smart and think outside the box, which can seem threatening to an employer or client. Of course he’s way smarter than me, but when I engaged a lifetime partner, I  looked up and try to meet the challenge every day.

I talked to a gal today on a billing issue and she said she was “Jo.” I asked about her name and she’s Italian and her name is Giovanna, such a beautiful name, as is Deirdre, which is mine. I know you know me as Dee but that’s the name I had to tell the teacher the first day of school every year, from the back row and very shy I’d say after she butchered my name several times, “people call me Dee.” It took me 23 years to appreciate my given name yet now everyone calls me Dee.

When one accepts one’s identity and gains wisdom through parents, life experience, work and marriage, that is growing up. With cell phones and texting I don’t know what kids will be. We never locked our doors or cars but must do so now. We had a land line that my sister hogged for hours every night to talk to a girlfriend a block away.

And I don’t text. Cheers! Dee