Tag Archive for Commentary

The whine of a generation

May 18, 2012 News commentary, Personal No comments

Cry baby cry!

We are young/heartache to heartache we stand/No promises, no demands/love is a battlefield.

OK, so Pat Benatar was talking about love, but if you swap love for life, those lines could be the battlecry of my generation — or at least that’s what we’re being told to believe.

It started last week with a column by Rob Carrick in The Globe and Mail entitled “2012 vs 1984: Young adults really do have it harder today.” In his column, Carrick laments the life of us 20-something nowadays: broke and in low-paying jobs even as the price of things, such as houses and cars, have risen astronomically. Carrick wrote:

I had it easier than today’s twentysomethings, and I have no problem saying so. But quite a few others can’t see what all the fuss is about when it comes to the financial concerns of today’s young adults.

“Finally!” was a common refrain from those in my generation. “Someone who gets how I feel and how hard it is to be me!”

I read Carrick’s column and walked away with a medicore feeling. I didn’t see this as a battle cry. This wasn’t the refrain of a generation. Are things tougher for my generation than my parents? I don’t really know. I can say my parents had it rough while I was growing up, but it was such a different time. I commented on this recently when my boyfriend and I went shopping for tablets.

Back when I was a kid, I remember my parents saving for months and months and months to get a CD player or finally a VCR. Nowadays, my generation seems to live in a kind of “I want, so I buy.” When was the last time you really saved for anything? Personally, I don’t even remember it.

But sure, OK, we have it harder today.

Then this week, Carrick published a letter from a 29-year-old man thanking him for what he wrote. This man, who is the same age as me, lamented the things he’ll never be able to do because things are so tough for us right now. Here’s an excerpt (the man was kept anonymous, so not to hurt his job hunting chances):

At the age of 29, I’ve likely forever lost the following opportunities due to cost and probable inability to make up for lost wages and career potential:

- Getting married.

- Having children.

- Owning a home that’s bigger than 500 square feet. (hint: that’s not big.)

- Studying any more, whether that means grad school, law school, or even just night classes at a random community college.

- Retirement. Sure, I’d love to be investing for it. But with what money?

The piece goes on about how this guy applies for 100 jobs in the hopes of snagging 15 interviews, and how he continues to repeat the process. Like Carrick’s last piece, many of my peers leaped on to this as a battling cry.

I posted my response on these four points on a friend’s Facebook wall, but here they are:

  • You can get married without a big giant paycheque coming in. If being “married” is so important to you, then go to City Hall and spend $140 on the licence and get married there. This guy is whining he can’t afford the party that usually comes with getting married — the party is not the same as getting married.
  • Having kids: Poor people have kids. Full stop. Sure our generation hoped to plan better for our kids and have the money, the time, the whatever, but it doesn’t always work out that way. My parents didn’t have all those things and I survived. Love is the most important thing when it comes to having kids, and as J.Lo says, Love don’t cost a thing.
  • Owning a home that’s bigger than 500 square feet: Again, I wonder where this guy is looking at buying. If it’s in Toronto and Vancouver, then you’re right, it’s expensive. But there are ways to make it work. Did I ever expect to own a home this young? Nope. Is it hard? Definitely. But I’m making it work despite not bringing in the millions I so obviously deserve.
  • Studying any more: Again, get off your high horse. In theory, I don’t “have the money” to be taking extra classes, but I’m finding a way to. And if I go back for a master’s, which I’m seriously considering, I will be doing it with the help of OSAP. I’m not above having to take out a loan that I pay back. I still owe $18,000 on my undergrad and am happy to pay that back every month. I would not trade having to pay for my education for anything. I know I wouldn’t have the same value for it if it was free.
  • Retirement: You’re right. We’re all going to work until we die. Poor us.

Now, I’m not saying our generation doesn’t have it hard, because we do — every generation does (heck, my grandmother was born into the start of the Second World War, her parents lived through two world wars and a Great Depression). But we’ve got to stop feeling like we have it the hardest of any generation that ever came before us because it just makes us seem entitled. Yes, entitled.

While I’m sure his job search is hard, I haven’t heard of anyone who applies for that many jobs at once. Which makes me wonder what industry this anonymous letter writer is searching in.

And my second question goes back to my observation about the difference between my parents’ generation and mine: Do we not have the disposable income to get married, have kids, buy a house and save for retirement, because of all the gadgets we buy?

Next time you lament how you can’t afford a downpayment for a mortgage, look at where you’re spending money: smartphones, gadgets, dinners out etc.

And another thing that’s different from our generation compared to our parents: In 1984, university degrees were rarer. More people went to college. That’s not the case today. An undergraduate university degree nowadays does not guarantee you a job, you need more to stand out from the pack.

That being said, sometimes it’s all about luck. I know a 23-year-old recent immigrant to Canada that just landed a job paying almost $50,000 a year — and she has no post-secondary education.

Yes, things are tough for our generation, but let’s quit whining about it already.

Photo by ahmadzamri on Flickr.  

A tale of two complaints: BMO vs. UPS

April 5, 2012 Personal One comment

Social media has opened up a new way for consumers to complain about products, services and companies like nothing before it.

Some may think it’s passive agressive to simply send a tweet complaining about an issue, but I beg to differ. I think social media offers a great way for a customer to interact directly with a company when they have an issue with their product(s). It’s also a great way for customers to complain in a way that doesn’t waste their time (i.e. you’re not sitting on hold for hours waiting for someone in a call centre somewhere nowhere near the company you’re actually complaining about).

However, there are limits to this mode. Many companies don’t have too much of a social media presence. If they do it’s either: a) limitedly staffed (meaning turnaround time for your tweet could be hours or days); or b) just a broadcasting mechanism where no one actually listens to what people are saying to it. Another problem is the allusion (or perhaps the reality) that if you complain on social media, you get better treatment than someone who called or wrote a letter because they are not on social media or whatever.

However, there are times it works. In the last few weeks, I have tweeted negatively about two companies. One ended decently, the other not so. Here’s what occurred.

Bank of Montreal

I am a BMO customer. A few weeks ago when I was depositing my pay cheque, I needed to see a personal banker to make a transfer into my Tax-Free Savings Account (customer service representatives — CSRs or tellers — cannot perform this transaction). The CSR who was serving me found a personal banker who was free. He told me she would see me, and we continued to finish up depositing my cheque.

I overheard the customer next to me ask his CSR to see the same personal banker I was to see. When he was asked if he had an appointment, he admitted he was just a personal friend and wanted to say hi. The CSR brought him to the personal banker. When I arrived to her office to do my banking transactions, the CSR and I waited outside her office for five minutes before she came out and said she couldn’t see me after all — she had forgotten about the appointment she had with the gentleman sitting inside her office.

Liar! I wanted to scream, but I didn’t. She asked if I was willing to wait until someone else could see me (all the other personal bankers were with other actual customers), I said no. I had to get back to work.

As I walked out of the bank, my thumbs were already furiously typing away on my phone:

I explained in about 12 DMs what had occurred. The person on the other end of the BMO account apologized and said someone would be in touch. Later that afternoon, I got a call from corporate apologizing and offering to do my banking transaction for me.

Not really what I was expecting, but whatever.

The following week, I got a thank you card in the mail from the CSR who served me. I got mad all over again and decided to call the branch manager — which is something I realize I should have done sooner.

I left a voicemail and the assistant branch manager actually called me back. She was very apologetic and said she, and the branch manager knew about the incident already. She wanted to know what she could do for me to make things right. Her phone call was enough.

Because of her great response, I also tweeted a follow up to my followers to let them know things had been righted:

UPS

I was expecting a couple of packages — containing goods worth over $500 — to be delivered to my home. As of yesterday at 2 p.m., UPS’s website said it was set to be delivered by end of day Thursday. Accordingly, I made plans to work from home in order to receive the boxes.

So colour me surprised when my boyfriend and I arrived home from work to find two large boxes right in the middle of our front lawn in plain site, with the logo from the company I had ordered from plastered all over the boxes.

Maybe, colour me angry is a better phrase. We lugged the packages in the house and wondered what would have happened if someone had walked away with them. So again, I took to Twitter.

This morning, UPS responded to my tweet, promising a follow up.

Sure, enough I got a phone call from the local UPS outlet shortly after and if the BMO assistant manager illustrated what good customer service was, the person from UPS did not.

Basically, she told me it was the driver’s discretion to leave the packages. When I enquired if it was OK they were on my lawn for the entire neighbourhood to see (and possibly take), she again said it was “driver discretion.” When I asked what would have happened if someone had stolen the boxes from my land, she said I would have had to file a lost package claim and they’d “investigate it.” When I asked her why the packages arrived so soon when I was expecting, and making arrangements, for a Thursday delivery, she again told me the driver was within his right to leave them since I wasn’t home and that if I was so concerned “I should have required a signature.”

Well, when I ordered my items, I was never given that option from the shipper. Nor have I ever known a courier company to simply leave a package without express written consent to do so from me. Usually after a first attempt, you get a paper on the door where you can check a box telling them to leave it. None of this occurred.

I again tweeted my frustration and the wonderful woman behind the account apologized again and said she would again follow up with the local team.

Seems like UPS in Toronto could learn a little bit about customer service from their corporate Twitter account and the assistant bank manager at the Liberty Village Bank of Montreal.

What are your customer service horror stories? How were they solved? Have you blacklisted any companies?

My little secret

March 15, 2012 Personal No comments

I’m going to let you in on a little secret …

… I have a tattoo. A mighty big one.

I say it’s a secret because it’s not in a place you can easily see it (it’s on my left hip). And also, when most people find out I have a tattoo, they look at me like I have three heads. Apparently, I don’t appear to be the tattoo “type.”

I decided to come clean about my “tatt,” after reading a column this week by friend (and workout buddy) Jessica Napier.

I am so happy that I will never feel the deep, remorseful kind of regret that only an inspirational quote in a foreign language scripted on my skin can inspire.

In response to her column, I sent Napier a tweet, to which I received the following response:

I take offence to the “stupid” comment — not to mention the conformity one.

I was in the same camp as Napier, even after various members of my family began to get  tattoos. First my younger sister. Then my brother. Then my sister. Again. Then my brother went back. Then my dad (yes, my dad!).

Despite half my family getting tattoos, I still abstained. And still never expected to ever get one.

When I moved to Toronto from Kincardine, I wanted to take a part of that town with me. Kincardine healed me at a time when I was more broken than I have ever been in my life. The people in that town embraced me and loved me as I had never felt before.

So, when I left in 2005, I decided to get a tattoo proclaiming my love for that little town. Originally, my plan was to get a small tattoo on my hip, kind of like the sexy heart Rachel gets on Friends. I imagined how cute it would be.

I imagined it for two years before I finally got it. I decided the tattoo would be a set of bagpipes — because of Kincardine’s proud Scottish heritage — my tattoo artist suggested we fill it in with the colours of the Kincardine tartan.

On July 7, 2007, I took a my first ever shot of Scotch, and laid on a tattoo table.

Three hours (and a few hundred dollars) later, I left with this:

It was much bigger than I envisioned, but perfectly captures what I needed it to.

Now, every where I go, I have a piece of Kincardine with me.

Tattoos are not for everyone, but not everyone who gets them are looking to conform or be one of the crowd. I know I haven’t.

Many people told me once I got one tattoo, I’d go back for more — but I haven’t, and know I won’t. This one is important to me, it means something to me. Getting another tattoo would take away from that for me.

Yes, tattoo are an individual choice. Not everyone should get one.

As for regretting my tattoo? I can honestly say I don’t think I ever will.

City of Hamilton rips off Sex and the City poster for women-in-business event

March 8, 2012 Media, Politics No comments

The image above is for a women in business event hosted by the City of Hamilton’s economic development committee.

It was brought to my attention after Emma Reilly, a city hall reporter for the Hamilton Spectator tweeted about it:

It’s a very good question, indeed.

What first struck me about the poster was not its carbon-copy of the poster for the first Sex and the City film, but the tagline:

Pastels beat a power tie.

 

Uh, OK. Gender stereotype much? I’m a woman and I’m not wearing any pastel colours today. In fact, I could probably count on one hand the number of pastel-coloured items I own. On top of that, I don’t want to be judged for what I wear. If I were to attend this event in a sharp black business suit, would I be welcome?

I’m surprised the poster doesn’t list the fact that cosmopolitans will be served, or than attendees will be treated to manis and pedis at the end of the day.

What is most distressing about this poster is it’s talking down to women in business instead of to them. Women business leaders — whether they are CEOs, entrepreneurs or executives — deserve to be treated equally as men. Not only that, but something tells me women who want to network with their peers at an event such as this, don’t need a poster appealing to the lowers common denominator to get their attendance. They should be deciding to attend based on the event’s merits. A poster for a men-in-business would not be done in this way.

What this poster accomplishes is making women business executives feel like they’re different. After all, women wouldn’t want to talk business, they only identify with a television show and movie franchise that went down the tubes four years ago.

The saddest thing about this poster is that it’s for an event that’s happening on International Women’s Day — a day when we celebrate women’s accomplishments and achievements. If only, the businesswomen of Hamilton are being treated to the same.

What do you think of the poster? Leave a comment below.

Good luck, Gabby

January 22, 2012 Media, News commentary One comment

I didn’t know Gabrielle Giffords before January 8, 2011.

Why would I?

I didn’t live in Arizona and wasn’t particularly plugged into that part of American politics. Sure, I’m sure I saw her name in news stories and reports, especially after Arizona’s controversial immigration law was passed. But as with most other American congressmen and women — and even governors — her name just didn’t stick.

Then January 8 happened. I remembered following the events of that day on Twitter, especially her “death” — which was later proven to be untrue. That day was the first time in a long time I turned on CNN to follow the events in Arizona.

I don’t know why, but Giffords’ story struck a chord with me. Even before we knew anything about how she was doing.

After the first post-shooting images of her were released, I was even more struck by Giffords and her story. She looked so happy, so at peace, so OK.

Giffords’ first television interview was with Dianne Sawyer. I spent most of the hour in tears watching in amazement at the videos of this woman fighting so hard to be who she was all over again.

“She sounds like a child,” my boyfriend commented after one section where Giffords spoke.

He was right, she did. She spoke in short, usually one-word sentences. She looked confused when she was asked some questions, but I still saw so much hope and possibility from her.

Late last year, Gabby: A Story of Courage and Hope was released — a book by Giffords and her husband Mark Kelly. The book told the story of Giffords’ life before the shooting, but more of it took place in the days, weeks and months that came afterward. How she fought to build her life back — to walk, to talk — to learn everything all over again.

Of course, the real question was whether Giffords was going to run for re-election this year. Whenever it was asked, Kelly always gave the same response: The decision was Giffords’ alone to make, and she had until May to make it.

Then this weekend we got more news from Giffords. Only this time, it wasn’t about her future aspirations. This time it was about her present situation. She had decided she would be resigning her congressional seat.

In a video released on her website, wearing a red jacket almost just like the one she was shot in just over a year ago, Giffords said farewell:

“I will return,” Giffords promised, smiling in a way that you could almost see the “old” Gabby shining through.

She promised that while she was getting better, she needed to take some time to focus on her recovery. And while she didn’t expressly say she wasn’t planning to run again, the video made it pretty clear that her political career was probably done.

The New York Times reported Sunday night that Giffords would end her term in congress finishing the Congress on Your Corner event in the supermarket parking lot where she was shot one year ago.

Perhaps because of that decision, and so many others, I still see hope from Gabrielle Gifford. Sunday’s events reminded me of some of what she had written in Gabby‘s final chapter entitled “Gabby’s Voice:”

Hope and faith. You have to have hope and faith.

Everything I do reminds me of that horrible day. Just rolling onto my side is hard. Hard to sleep at night. Reminds me of how badly I was hurt. It was hard but I’m alive …

Long ways to go. Grateful to survive. It’s frustrating. Mentally hard. Hard work. I’m trying. Trying so hard to get better. Regain what I’ve lost. Want to speak better .

Trying to get back to work … I’m so sorry I’m unable to work right now.

I hope I never have to fight a battle like the one that Gabrielle Giffords is fighting, but I know I will fight smaller battles throughout my lifetime.

I hope like Giffords, no matter how tough my fight may seem or how futile it appears to be, I hope I am able to hold my head up high and carry on. I hope no matter how dark things may seem, I am able to say exactly what Giffords said:

I will get stronger. I will return.

 

Of that, I have no doubt.

Good luck, Gabby.

Photo for blog post a screengrab from Giffords’ video announcing her resignation.

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