Dear United States Border Patrol,
What gives?
Was it our polite answers or genuine smiles that first made you suspicious? Or was it the obvious fact that we had been camping – unshowered hair, a trunk full of camping equipment, mildly exhausted faces – that struck you as out of the ordinary? OR was it that we didn’t have our story straight?
Let’s recall how that went:
Unsmiling Border Patrolman: Are you bringing anything across the border that you gained in Canada?
Alissa: No
Leah: Nope.
Julie: Just some candy bars for friends!
Unsmiling Border Patrolman: I’m going to need to you to pull over up there and come into the office.
Now, I’m going to assume that perhaps we were merely the result of a random “check”, but nonetheless, I was disappointed on the lack of welcome by my fellow countrymen. I was welcomed with open arms into the beautiful land of Canada, and what was my ‘welcome back’ experience? 25 minutes of repeated questions, detailed search of our belongings, and withholding of our passports.
So maybe I’m being a little dramatic – it really wasn’t a big hassle. And, I respect you for doing your job and keeping your citizens safe, but I’m beginning to wonder what the U.S. government has against me, because this isn’t the first time I’ve been temporarily detained while attempting to return to my motherland. Hmmm….
Until next time,
Julie
Wednesday, September 1, 2010
Friday, August 27, 2010
Canada
Dear Canada,
My newest friend, I don’t even know where to begin! You are everything I dreamed you would be and more! From your endearing accents to your delicious candy (Wunderbar wins!); from your gorgeous landscape to your Night Dancing moose – oh how I love thee!
I have often regretted that we didn’t meet on that fateful night all those years ago, but now I see that it wasn’t meant to be, because the timing wasn’t right (not to mention that the Detroit/Windsor area is nothing to write home about … err, I mean write a blog about). I am so glad that our first encounter was this last weekend: when I could more fully appreciate your beauty with some beautiful people.
Though I am having a hard time dealing with the reverse culture shock I’ve been experiencing since my return, it has caused me to reflect on the beauty of your culture and your people even more. And, as you can well imagine, what a rude “welcome home” I received upon my attempt to return to my homeland (that just might be my next letter). As unfortunate as that was, it made me appreciate the welcoming spirit of your people even more. And in that spirit, to the following I give a special “thank you”:
Ronda – the first Canadian to greet us warmly upon entering.
Warden Braden – warm smiles, handcuffs, free firewood, first Canadian handshake.
Warden Chris – free firewood, birch syrup advice.
Theo – a true Canadian chipmunk (the friendliest one I’ve met!)
Margaret – a fellow scat expert.
Tim Horton – after two days without, your coffee was much appreciated!
I do hope that we are able to enjoy each other’s company soon.
Much Affection,
Julie
My newest friend, I don’t even know where to begin! You are everything I dreamed you would be and more! From your endearing accents to your delicious candy (Wunderbar wins!); from your gorgeous landscape to your Night Dancing moose – oh how I love thee!
I have often regretted that we didn’t meet on that fateful night all those years ago, but now I see that it wasn’t meant to be, because the timing wasn’t right (not to mention that the Detroit/Windsor area is nothing to write home about … err, I mean write a blog about). I am so glad that our first encounter was this last weekend: when I could more fully appreciate your beauty with some beautiful people.
Though I am having a hard time dealing with the reverse culture shock I’ve been experiencing since my return, it has caused me to reflect on the beauty of your culture and your people even more. And, as you can well imagine, what a rude “welcome home” I received upon my attempt to return to my homeland (that just might be my next letter). As unfortunate as that was, it made me appreciate the welcoming spirit of your people even more. And in that spirit, to the following I give a special “thank you”:
Ronda – the first Canadian to greet us warmly upon entering.
Warden Braden – warm smiles, handcuffs, free firewood, first Canadian handshake.
Warden Chris – free firewood, birch syrup advice.
Theo – a true Canadian chipmunk (the friendliest one I’ve met!)
Margaret – a fellow scat expert.
Tim Horton – after two days without, your coffee was much appreciated!
I do hope that we are able to enjoy each other’s company soon.
Much Affection,
Julie
Monday, August 16, 2010
Teachers
Dear Teachers,
I think (?) I received a compliment a few days ago that I should pass along to you all. It was by way of a brief conversation in the parking lot outside my place of work. It was as follows:
(Man staring at Julie)
(Julie decides to counter this uncomfortable and potentially degrading situation with the best weapon possible: directness)
Julie: Hello!
Man: Wha …Err … Are you a teacher?
Julie: Um, no.
(Silence)
Julie: Are you?
(Silence)
Man: But you are so beautiful!
(Silence)
Julie: Well, thank you.
So there you have it, my teacher friends, at least one person in this world sees ‘teacher’ and ‘beautiful’ and synonymous. And I would have to agree.
Best,
Julie
I think (?) I received a compliment a few days ago that I should pass along to you all. It was by way of a brief conversation in the parking lot outside my place of work. It was as follows:
(Man staring at Julie)
(Julie decides to counter this uncomfortable and potentially degrading situation with the best weapon possible: directness)
Julie: Hello!
Man: Wha …Err … Are you a teacher?
Julie: Um, no.
(Silence)
Julie: Are you?
(Silence)
Man: But you are so beautiful!
(Silence)
Julie: Well, thank you.
So there you have it, my teacher friends, at least one person in this world sees ‘teacher’ and ‘beautiful’ and synonymous. And I would have to agree.
Best,
Julie
Sunday, August 15, 2010
Kyle
K,
It seems only appropriate that I would write a letter to you, my dear husband, on our first anniversary. You might expect this to contain a list of sentimental reasons why I love you and how wonderful you are. Sorry to disappoint, but I have other things in mind.
I do love you a lot (and could list off many reasons why) and I do think you are wonderful (and could compile a list here as well), however, in our one year of marriage, one thing I have been reminded of over and over again is how much I need you. I’ve heard it said that marriage can reveal the best and worst characteristics of people – how true. Coming to terms with new areas of my sinfulness and shortcomings during the last 12 months has caused me to see even more clearly how I can’t do this thing called life on my own. Plain and simple, you make me better. I need you.
Places where I fall short or am severely lacking, you seem to have this amazing ability to fill. I lack patience; you bring it. I jump to conclusions and make assumptions; you bring wise perspective. I speak out of anger or frustration; you’re quick to forgive. I worry; you don’t. I hate mice; you kill them. I cry; you comfort me. I read into things; you take them at face value. I “process outloud”; you listen.
This last year, I’ve often reflected on how I always assumed I’d get married much later in life (thank you, hippie-turned-Christian* parents who always encouraged me to “try new things” and constantly remind me that I’m “still so young” and not to worry about "settling down"). And, with having so many single friends, it’s crossed my mind a time or two to imagine what life would be like for me now if I were not married. Save for not having to unbunch your dirty socks before putting them in the washing machine, I really don’t like that scenario at all, because, quite frankly, I really don’t like me in that scenario. Why? Because you make me better, Kyle James Oostra. Without you, I’m an impatient, jump-to-conclusions, angry, worrying, rodent-despising, crying, paranoid, talks-to-myself woman.
I think it ironic the amount of time and energy some single people (include me in this category pre-husband) spend thinking about how to ‘improve’ themselves so as to be date-able or marry-able – as though only those who possess certain desirable qualities or characteristics are the lucky ones who get to have a spouse. While there’s some truth in this line of thinking (we should all be striving towards holiness, right?), the opposing perspective would be that because one is lacking certain characteristics, he or she requires full-time help by way of a spouse to fill in the gaps, so to speak. That’s me, mostly. I’m pretty sure God (very lovingly, of course) took a look at me a few years ago and said, “Oh yes, this one’s going to need some help – live-in help that is. What about that fellow up in the Minnesota, the really patient, kind, gentle, funny, genuine, sympathetic one? I think he’s just what she needs.” So be it.
I want no other.
J
*I do not intend to present "hippie" and "Christian" as mutually exclusive, only as separate and distinct "seasons" in my parents' lives, if you will. I personally identify with both of these categories and do not see it as a conflict of interest, but I digress...
It seems only appropriate that I would write a letter to you, my dear husband, on our first anniversary. You might expect this to contain a list of sentimental reasons why I love you and how wonderful you are. Sorry to disappoint, but I have other things in mind.
I do love you a lot (and could list off many reasons why) and I do think you are wonderful (and could compile a list here as well), however, in our one year of marriage, one thing I have been reminded of over and over again is how much I need you. I’ve heard it said that marriage can reveal the best and worst characteristics of people – how true. Coming to terms with new areas of my sinfulness and shortcomings during the last 12 months has caused me to see even more clearly how I can’t do this thing called life on my own. Plain and simple, you make me better. I need you.
Places where I fall short or am severely lacking, you seem to have this amazing ability to fill. I lack patience; you bring it. I jump to conclusions and make assumptions; you bring wise perspective. I speak out of anger or frustration; you’re quick to forgive. I worry; you don’t. I hate mice; you kill them. I cry; you comfort me. I read into things; you take them at face value. I “process outloud”; you listen.
This last year, I’ve often reflected on how I always assumed I’d get married much later in life (thank you, hippie-turned-Christian* parents who always encouraged me to “try new things” and constantly remind me that I’m “still so young” and not to worry about "settling down"). And, with having so many single friends, it’s crossed my mind a time or two to imagine what life would be like for me now if I were not married. Save for not having to unbunch your dirty socks before putting them in the washing machine, I really don’t like that scenario at all, because, quite frankly, I really don’t like me in that scenario. Why? Because you make me better, Kyle James Oostra. Without you, I’m an impatient, jump-to-conclusions, angry, worrying, rodent-despising, crying, paranoid, talks-to-myself woman.
I think it ironic the amount of time and energy some single people (include me in this category pre-husband) spend thinking about how to ‘improve’ themselves so as to be date-able or marry-able – as though only those who possess certain desirable qualities or characteristics are the lucky ones who get to have a spouse. While there’s some truth in this line of thinking (we should all be striving towards holiness, right?), the opposing perspective would be that because one is lacking certain characteristics, he or she requires full-time help by way of a spouse to fill in the gaps, so to speak. That’s me, mostly. I’m pretty sure God (very lovingly, of course) took a look at me a few years ago and said, “Oh yes, this one’s going to need some help – live-in help that is. What about that fellow up in the Minnesota, the really patient, kind, gentle, funny, genuine, sympathetic one? I think he’s just what she needs.” So be it.
I want no other.
J
*I do not intend to present "hippie" and "Christian" as mutually exclusive, only as separate and distinct "seasons" in my parents' lives, if you will. I personally identify with both of these categories and do not see it as a conflict of interest, but I digress...
Friday, April 30, 2010
Henrietta
Dear Henrietta,
How was last night? Is the Humane Society treating you well? The paperwork that Kyle and I filled out stated in no uncertain terms that we could not request information as to your whereabouts because it is against policy. Since I cannot know for sure, I can only hope that you are being treated ... well, humanely.
I hope you are not upset that we decided to "surrender" you to the proper authorities. You must understand that whatever fate you will meet as a result of our decision is much better than the unthinkable fate you would have surely encountered on the streets of north Minneapolis.
I must say, though we only spent a little over an hour together, there was definitely an instantaneous and unbreakable bond formed between us. I miss you.
Thus, I have written a short poem to commemorate our time together:
Darkness was approaching the gardening plot,
Making me fear that I might get shot.
A rustling sound could be heard by the tree,
I turned my head to see what it could be.
When what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But an amiable chicken walking so near!
My eyes blinked not and my mouth gave a stutter,
My husband came quickly to see what was the matter.
No matter at all, for this bird was quite mild,
Clearly domesticated and not at all wild.
Here, also are some photos to celebrate our friendship:
If you are able, please write to us and let us know how you are doing.
Your Newest Friends,
Julie and Kyle
How was last night? Is the Humane Society treating you well? The paperwork that Kyle and I filled out stated in no uncertain terms that we could not request information as to your whereabouts because it is against policy. Since I cannot know for sure, I can only hope that you are being treated ... well, humanely.
I hope you are not upset that we decided to "surrender" you to the proper authorities. You must understand that whatever fate you will meet as a result of our decision is much better than the unthinkable fate you would have surely encountered on the streets of north Minneapolis.
I must say, though we only spent a little over an hour together, there was definitely an instantaneous and unbreakable bond formed between us. I miss you.
Thus, I have written a short poem to commemorate our time together:
Darkness was approaching the gardening plot,
Making me fear that I might get shot.
A rustling sound could be heard by the tree,
I turned my head to see what it could be.
When what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But an amiable chicken walking so near!
My eyes blinked not and my mouth gave a stutter,
My husband came quickly to see what was the matter.
No matter at all, for this bird was quite mild,
Clearly domesticated and not at all wild.
Here, also are some photos to celebrate our friendship:
If you are able, please write to us and let us know how you are doing.
Your Newest Friends,
Julie and Kyle
Monday, April 12, 2010
Danny
Dear Danny,
I feel I owe you an apology. My heart desires to live at peace with everyone, so I feel it necessary to address the very obvious ill feelings that were (and perhaps still are) between us. However, I do not like to waste time with insincere apologies, so I feel it profitable to share with you a brief explanation as to why exactly my attitude was such this morning.
Here is why I was angry/frusterated/impatient:
1.) It was 5:58a.m.
2.) Our interactions as of late haven't been exactly amiable, therefore my expectations were low and my attitude sour towards you before I even walked out the door.
3.) I was lugging a very heavy sign.
4.) You ignored my (albeit measely) attempts to be cordial.
5.) You (not only) did not help me unstack and arrange 12 very heavy and awkward chairs,
6.) You (also) stood in the exact spot where I would have liked to place one of the chairs, causing my path between the stack-location and the arrangment-around-the-tables-location of said chairs to double in length.
7.) You didn't (and never have) used two of my favorite words: "Please" and "Thanks"
I am not making excuses for being of ill-temper with you, I merely offer an explanation, so that perhaps you can understand my position. That being said, I would welcome any insight or explanation you would care to share in regards to your point of view. I certainly do not presume to know what your perspective is, nor am I in any way able to understand what your life is like on a daily basis. I will make this humble observation if you will allow it. In my opinion, the most painful aspect of homelessness and poverty is the dehumanization (or at least feelings of this) that occur as a result of one's social status (or lack thereof). Being ignored, overlooked, intentionally taken advantage of, not cared for, misjudged, misunderstood, and/or at the mercy of others would seemingly have profound affect on a person, especially if this occurs repeatedly for extended periods of time. I would imagine that being treated as though you are not a person or less than a person, might make you to begin to believe that you are just that.
I think that we humans can strip someone of their humanity and dignity by doing just this; disrespecting, taking advantage of, oppressing, etc. I also think, however, that we can dehumanize someone by doing the opposite; coddling, giving handouts, and having generally low expectations of a person. It is for this reason, that when I engage you in conversation, Danny, I expect a response. I expected you to help me move chairs this morning - or at the very least move yourself and your belongings out of the way - as I would have expected from anyone. It is for this reason that I've actually never addressed you by your name, because you've never shared it with me - I've only learned it from other people. I figure that maybe until you want me to know your name, I'll continue to call you "Sir".
I'll reiterate again that this is my humble explanation for what can probably be chalked up to "waking up (too early) on the wrong side of the bed" this morning. I have no idea what last night was like for you. Just as you are not aware of what life has been for me in recent months.
I am heartfully sorry for being of generally ill-temper with you today and of having a prideful heart. I have thought about writing you a letter before, but I could never come up with much. As far as I ever got on that blog was: Dear Danny, Every time I see you I think to myself, "child of God, child of God." Love, your sister.
I hope to see you again soon and redeem myself.
Very Sincerely,
Your (Probably) Least Favorite Barista
I feel I owe you an apology. My heart desires to live at peace with everyone, so I feel it necessary to address the very obvious ill feelings that were (and perhaps still are) between us. However, I do not like to waste time with insincere apologies, so I feel it profitable to share with you a brief explanation as to why exactly my attitude was such this morning.
Here is why I was angry/frusterated/impatient:
1.) It was 5:58a.m.
2.) Our interactions as of late haven't been exactly amiable, therefore my expectations were low and my attitude sour towards you before I even walked out the door.
3.) I was lugging a very heavy sign.
4.) You ignored my (albeit measely) attempts to be cordial.
5.) You (not only) did not help me unstack and arrange 12 very heavy and awkward chairs,
6.) You (also) stood in the exact spot where I would have liked to place one of the chairs, causing my path between the stack-location and the arrangment-around-the-tables-location of said chairs to double in length.
7.) You didn't (and never have) used two of my favorite words: "Please" and "Thanks"
I am not making excuses for being of ill-temper with you, I merely offer an explanation, so that perhaps you can understand my position. That being said, I would welcome any insight or explanation you would care to share in regards to your point of view. I certainly do not presume to know what your perspective is, nor am I in any way able to understand what your life is like on a daily basis. I will make this humble observation if you will allow it. In my opinion, the most painful aspect of homelessness and poverty is the dehumanization (or at least feelings of this) that occur as a result of one's social status (or lack thereof). Being ignored, overlooked, intentionally taken advantage of, not cared for, misjudged, misunderstood, and/or at the mercy of others would seemingly have profound affect on a person, especially if this occurs repeatedly for extended periods of time. I would imagine that being treated as though you are not a person or less than a person, might make you to begin to believe that you are just that.
I think that we humans can strip someone of their humanity and dignity by doing just this; disrespecting, taking advantage of, oppressing, etc. I also think, however, that we can dehumanize someone by doing the opposite; coddling, giving handouts, and having generally low expectations of a person. It is for this reason, that when I engage you in conversation, Danny, I expect a response. I expected you to help me move chairs this morning - or at the very least move yourself and your belongings out of the way - as I would have expected from anyone. It is for this reason that I've actually never addressed you by your name, because you've never shared it with me - I've only learned it from other people. I figure that maybe until you want me to know your name, I'll continue to call you "Sir".
I'll reiterate again that this is my humble explanation for what can probably be chalked up to "waking up (too early) on the wrong side of the bed" this morning. I have no idea what last night was like for you. Just as you are not aware of what life has been for me in recent months.
I am heartfully sorry for being of generally ill-temper with you today and of having a prideful heart. I have thought about writing you a letter before, but I could never come up with much. As far as I ever got on that blog was: Dear Danny, Every time I see you I think to myself, "child of God, child of God." Love, your sister.
I hope to see you again soon and redeem myself.
Very Sincerely,
Your (Probably) Least Favorite Barista
Tuesday, April 6, 2010
Hennepin County Sheriff's Office
Dear HCSO,
As your website declares, I trust you are indeed proud to provide professional public safety services to the people of Hennepin County. Thank you.
May I offer a humble suggestion? Change the motto that is written on your squadcars.
As catchy and memorable as "Snare the Drug Impaired" is, I would argue its professionalism (something you value) as well as its descriptiveness. I would daresay that an all-encompassing catchphrase that better represents your entire mission could be created.
Perhaps you could ask citizens of Hennepin County to submit their suggestions for a new, improved motto?
A Concerned Citizen,
J. O.
As your website declares, I trust you are indeed proud to provide professional public safety services to the people of Hennepin County. Thank you.
May I offer a humble suggestion? Change the motto that is written on your squadcars.
As catchy and memorable as "Snare the Drug Impaired" is, I would argue its professionalism (something you value) as well as its descriptiveness. I would daresay that an all-encompassing catchphrase that better represents your entire mission could be created.
Perhaps you could ask citizens of Hennepin County to submit their suggestions for a new, improved motto?
A Concerned Citizen,
J. O.
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