A little bit of everything
Earl Yarington is a social worker and bus driver. He taught literature and writing for nearly 20 years and spent 3 years working in forensic social work.
The real culprit here is ageism. The older we get in the United States, the more invisible we are. Do people not react with disgust because they just don’t like older people and want them to remain invisible? I think so.
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I am a doctor but not a medical one, nor am I a dietician or medical professional. Like many people, I struggled with weight. Once I had kids, I became the bear of the house, constantly eating all leftovers. At one point, I remember my ex-wife telling me, “You eat constantly and never stop.”
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Dear God,
I’ve am writing you today to ask if you need a friend. I ask because I think everyone assumes that because God is great, and God is, that you would not have any needs.
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Years ago, I remember my late mother was fuming over being called a “divorcee.” I understand that better now. As one that divorced like so many others, I started to question why I need to check the “divorced” box on applications, as if I have some kind of disease or disorder.
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Undergraduate education is almost completely useless, though an argument can be made that the courses one takes in junior and senior year help. I’d still say that is what a master’s degree is for.
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The end result is that many institutions of higher education ceased to be places to learn but became advocacy-driven out of fear of liability and a tarnished public image. No longer could teachers teach, offering an objective, even scientific view of an issue, they must become lawyers and social workers that advocate for particular preset causes.
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I am still single. Well, I am divorced, but I hate that word. After all, how many of us have been in relationships and broken them off? Such labeling, in part, is the reason why I live only with my Pomeranian. As a social worker, though, I’ve noticed some problematic reoccurring statements that really narrow any possibilities in someone finding love.
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Maybe the perfect world we seek Is not meant to be; Maybe the bliss of heaven Becomes hell for eternity;
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As a school bus driver, I am the most invisible person in the most visible vehicle on the road. For many students, I am simply not present in their lives. The soft and kind “good morning” barely audible floats by them like a dying breeze. It is there, but they pay little attention to it. Or, so I think.
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