Enumerator, a.k.a. counter. I begin training Wednesday to learn how to tally the U.S. population correctly and accurately.
Tonight I received a phone call with my first assignment. My mission, shall I choose to accept it, is to go to homeless shelters and count the people.
I didn't have to take this assignment. In fact, all I would have needed to do was tell them I was unavailable from midnight to 7am. But I'm curious. Are the shelters exactly how I picture them in my mind? Will I only be counting people in shelters? How will we account for the homeless who refuse to stay in shelters? How do you ensure that they are not counted more than once, since the population each night can vary greatly? What ARE the demographics of the shelter?
While working with a team of other people for this assignment, I'll have the opportunity to feed my curiosity in a somewhat sheltered manner. Who knows what I will learn.
Tuesday, March 23, 2010
Friday, March 19, 2010
Underway is the only way?
As I looked out over Lake Michigan on the nearly moonless night, I marveled at the darkness on the horizon. It was then that I recalled a dream from the night before. I was underway again. I don't recall many details of the dream, but I wondered why, after all these years, I had my first dream of being underway. And why, at this instance, did it reenter my memory.
I remember the quiet of being on the calm waters at night. Out on deck, I hear the steady hum of the engine, and the gentle slap of the waves against the bow. Looking across the horizon, I see darkness, only interrupted by the occasional sparkle of another ship's lights. The moonlight illuminates the ripples in front of us, while the microscopic creatures sparkle in our wake.
Even when I suffered extreme bouts of seasickness, the ocean continued to offer a sense of calm. You can't bring your troubles from land to sea. What good would it do you? The result is a world composed only of the present. A stress free refuge.
Am I more at home at sea than on land?
I recall the dangers I feel on land at night. What's lurking behind the dark corners? And I remember the fear I felt as I stared straight down into the darkness of the waters below.
What is it that caused this dream? Why did these memories return? Is underway the only way?
I remember the quiet of being on the calm waters at night. Out on deck, I hear the steady hum of the engine, and the gentle slap of the waves against the bow. Looking across the horizon, I see darkness, only interrupted by the occasional sparkle of another ship's lights. The moonlight illuminates the ripples in front of us, while the microscopic creatures sparkle in our wake.
Even when I suffered extreme bouts of seasickness, the ocean continued to offer a sense of calm. You can't bring your troubles from land to sea. What good would it do you? The result is a world composed only of the present. A stress free refuge.
Am I more at home at sea than on land?
I recall the dangers I feel on land at night. What's lurking behind the dark corners? And I remember the fear I felt as I stared straight down into the darkness of the waters below.
What is it that caused this dream? Why did these memories return? Is underway the only way?
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