Home > Gwinnett > Rick Badie / My Opinion > Archives > 2007 > May
May 2007
Nearly 30 years later, mother of 5 gets that degree
The Atlanta Journal-Constitution
Many a night she felt too tired to go on.
Adie Shimandle of Snellville toughed it out, though.
To do otherwise, to give in to fatigue, would mean deferring a decades-old dream, long past due.
So she didn’t, and on May 12, this married mother with kids graduated with a bachelor’s degree from the University of Georgia Gwinnett campus.
I first met her in 2003, shortly after she had returned to school. For her, it had been a while. Nearly 30 years ago. She got her associate’s degree from Manatee College in Bradenton, Fla. Then, college stopped.
Hers is a familiar tale. You know the script. Women wed, have kids, focus on raising them, sometimes while working, postpone personal goals. Solders the family soul.
It’s what Shimandle did.
She and Rick married 29 years ago. They had five kids. Her job as project manager for a broadcasting firm brought the family to Atlanta in 1980.
Eventually, the company decided to relocate its executive offices to Miami. The family chose to stay put, and for Shimandle, it was on to the next job. She worked for Nortel Networks, a telecommunications firm, for more than 20 years. It downsized in 2002, and she lost her job.
It’s around that time she decided to get her bachelor’s degree.
She told me that she didn’t know if she would have been able to go back to school if UGA had not been offering classes in Gwinnett. I guess she has a point. Having a satellite campus of the state’s flagship school has its benefits.
But Shimandle had some advantages, too: family, dedication, desire.
And as of this month, she has succeeded, all the while juggling motherhood with her job as a national manager who handles high-end donors for Atlanta-based CARE USA, an organization fighting global poverty.
This spring, she graduated cum laude with a bachelor’s of science degree in education, instructional psychology, training and technology. Shimandle is qualified in designing Web sites, graphic art and other impressive stuff.
On May 12, she attended the UGA commencement exercises in Sanford Stadium. Two days earlier, she was one of two student speakers at a local reception for UGA graduates who earned their 2007 degrees in Gwinnett.
It couldn’t have been easy. But when Shimandle enrolled in school back in June 2003, she didn’t do it alone. She had five kids and a husband who cried when he heard her speech at the reception.
When she was in school and would start to whine, worry and stress, her kids would remind her of the three “gets.”
Get it out. Go ahead and whine. Get over it. You still have to complete the work. Get on with it. The sooner you finish, the sooner you can stop whining.
“Sometimes I would be sitting there at 1 o’clock in the morning at my computer,” she told me. “My head would hit my chest. …You just want to go to sleep.”
At the time, she wasn’t the only Shimandle under pressure. Three daughters were, too. Charleaze finished grad school with honors at Piedmont College. Alexandria earned a chemistry award at Georgia Perimeter College.
And then there’s Teanna Wilson, married, the second-oldest daughter. She’s a “first honor grad,” a biology major who graduated in 2007, too.
Mom and daughter. Same school, different campuses. Same year. Sweet.
Shimandle spoke about her journey in her speech.
“It’s never too late to fulfill the dream of obtaining a bachelor’s degree or entering grad school,” she said. “You’re never too old to learn, and never too young to appreciate learning from those who have gone before you.”
• Rick Badie’s column appears on Sundays, Tuesdays, and Thursdays. Contact him at 770-263-3875 or e-mail rbadie@ajc.com.
Permalink | Comments (11) | Post your comment | Categories: Rick Badie
School’s out. What can a young, unsupervised person do?
The Atlanta Journal-Constitution
You’ve probably seen the commercials of famous folk praising the Boys & Girls Club of America.
Denzel Washington, Derek Jeter, and other club alumni.
Well, I’ve met someone who should star in a commercial. It’s Desmond Brown, the executive director of the A. Worley Brown Boys & Girls Club in Norcross.
He can attest to the club’s merits, the impact it had on a life that could have easily spiraled south. He spent his youth at the Joseph B. Whitehead Boys & Girls Club in Atlanta.
“I’m a product of this environment,” Brown said as he gave me a tour of the facility off Old Norcross Road.
“To make an impact, to change lives and save lives, that’s what this is all about.”
Wednesday was an ideal day for the Badie Tour to stop by the bustling 6-year-old club. It was the last day of school in Gwinnett. Parent volunteers were out back preparing a cookout to mark the end of the club’s 2007 after-school program.
This year, that weekday program served more than 300 boys and girls. They are kids of mostly single parents. They attend elementary, middle and high schools in Norcross and Duluth. School buses transport most kids to the program; the club provides transportation for about 30 percent of the participants.
The after-school program, which costs parents $35 a year, runs from August to May. Activities are divided by age group. The kids spend about an hour at each supervised activity before they rotate.
But before they play games, dabble in the arts and crafts or shoot hoops, they have an assignment to complete: their homework. That takes place during “Power Hour,” a tutorial session overseen by an instructor and an aide.
“We track their report cards, and 70 percent of the time their grades improve,” Brown told me. “Many of the parents are single parents. Some work two jobs. We have to make sure we’re meeting their needs.”
Meeting the needs of the community has meant reaching out to Hispanics.
Grant money has been used to introduce Latino-themed activities; English classes are offered for parents. Latinos are part of the club staff, including outreach coordinator Victor Zamora.
“They need to identify with someone to participate,” the South Florida native told me. “Once they see someone on the staff, they accept it with open arms.”
Club efforts are paying off. The number of Hispanic kids in the after-school program has grown from 2 percent in 2001 to 37 percent this year. Blacks made up about 60 percent of the participants. Everyone is welcomed, though.
I don’t have enough space in this one column to note all the social activities and life-building programs under way at the club, about the smiling faces, and the teens who spoke to me and called me, “Sir.”
Besides Brown, I spent time with Russ Crosio, an executive board member, and Rodney Close, the regional vice president. They told me about needs — for satellite sites (the first one will operate this summer at Radloff Middle School in Duluth), and a teen center near the club.
I probably need to pay a visit after June 4, when the club’s eight-week summer program begins.
After all. School’s out.
But structured fun at the Boys & Girls Club is a year-round affair.
Just ask Brown.
• Rick Badie’s column appears on Sundays, Tuesdays and Thursdays. Contact him at 770-263-3875 or e-mail rbadie@ajc.com.
Permalink | Comments (4) | Post your comment | Categories: Rick Badie
Retiree helps elderly wipe out their vulnerability
The Atlanta Journal-Constitution
He was a young man on a date at a carnival with one of the prettiest girls in town. She wanted to have her palm read for $1. She went into one tent. Bill York went into the other. Suddenly a palmist opened the tent flap and told York his date wanted the $30 reading. He only had $18. The palmist said that would do.
It wasn’t until the couple emerged from the readings that reality struck.
“Why did you want me to have the $30 reading,” York’s date wanted to know. He tried unsuccessfully to get his money back. The truth set in.
“I’d been scammed,” said York, who shared the 1946 personal story with residents of Lake Lucerne last Thursday.
“And I promised it would never happen to me again.”
I’d heard the carnival story before.
York and I play ping pong sometimes at the Gwinnett Senior Center off Bethesda Road. Safety’s his bailiwick.
For the past year or so he’s been giving a free presentation throughout the community, to whomever will listen. He’s taken it upon himself to educate residents, particularly senior citizens, about swindlers, safety, crime prevention. He hopes they apply the researched tips to their homes and when they are out and about.
The 81-year-old retired furrier, who lives in Stone Mountain, isn’t paranoid about crime or victim hood. He doesn’t want senior citizens, considered to be prime targets for scammers, to stop living, either.
He wants to help wipe out their vulnerability, not only for scams, but robberies, thefts and carjackings. And you must admit we seem to have more than our share of all of the above in Gwinnett.
“I want them to be prepared and to use the Boy Scout motto: ‘Be prepared for any eventuality,’ ” he told me. “Don’t act the way the crooks want you to act.”
The Lake Lucerne neighborhood, a community of 168 homes, sits off U.S. Highway 78 between Snellville and Stone Mountain. It’s been the site of three break-ins, and worried residents say that’s three too many. They asked York to give his presentation Thursday night. He showed up with a friend, Lilburn Police Chief John Davidson.
The duo offered simple, smart, safety tips, among them: keep one credit card and one blank check in your wallet or purse; in fact, carry a fanny pack, not a wallet or purse; don’t carry too much cash; befriend the elderly in your neighborhood and help them make decisions about house repairs; survey your home and eliminate vulnerable spots.
And, just as important, don’t stop enjoying life.
“You don’t want to become a prisoner, be afraid to go to the store or go on walks,” Davidson told the group. “That diminishes the quality of life.”
Three years ago, York graduated from the Gwinnett citizens police academy. He went out with the SWAT Team and rode with patrol officers to get a sense of the criminal mind. He believes the message of safety has to be repeated over and over till it sinks in.
“It’s the lack of reality or the acceptance of reality,” he told me. “People need to be told the third, fourth and fifth time to get it. It doesn’t strike them unless they become victims.”
Then it’s too late.
To contact Bill York about scheduling a presentation, contact him at 770-921-3655 or e-mail sioux2222@gmail.com. Rick Badie’s column appears on Sundays, Tuesdays and Thursdays. Contact him at 770-263-3875 or e-mail rbadie@ajc.com.
Permalink | | Categories: Rick Badie
Preschool teacher recasts magic spell
The Atlanta Journal-Constitution
Last year, a teacher told Marialyce Orr that some kids in the Mountain Park First Baptist Church Preschool didn’t know simple nursery rhymes.
Like “Peter, Peter, Pumpkin Eater.”
So this year, Orr, the preschool’s music teacher, made nursery rhymes a curriculum theme. She culled together some teacher resources and scoured the library for nursery rhyme books and CDs.
“I just had fun with it,” said Orr, whose favorite rhymes as a kid were “This Little Piggie,” “Hey Diddle Diddle,” and “Little Miss Muffet.”
On Friday, the preschoolers performed an end-of-the-year show: “Preschool Rhymes and Wonderful Times.” Every class, from the toddlers to the 4-year-olds, took to a stage decorated with a moon, sun, mulberry bush and other props.
Some of the 100 or so tykes sang sheepishly. Others sang robustly. A few cried. Stage fright, I suppose.
Not that it mattered. When you’re this age, it doesn’t take a whole heap to please mommas, papas and grandparents, to make them proud.
Cameras flashed. Video cameras rolled. Delightful.
I learned about the school performance early last week. See, my son and Orr’s two boys are on the same swim team, just in different age groups. One day at practice, she was poolside, working on props for the performance.
We talked about traditional rhymes, recalled a few favorites, and lamented the fact that some contemporary kids are clueless about “Hickory Dickory Dock.”
I did some online research and found out that some parents find many of the time-honored rhymes mean-spirited, vile, improper for children. So they shy away from them altogether.
It’s something Chris Wilson doesn’t understand. His son, Garrett, 3, took part in Friday’s program.
“My son comes home singing nursery rhymes, and we sing them on a regular basis at home,” he told me. “It’s how we learned, you know, and in my opinion, the impact is enormous for kids. Families are just getting away from these things.”
Bruce Lansky, an American poet and author, wrote in a 2006 essay that nursery rhymes are “beginning to fall into disuse because parents are uncomfortable or bored with them.”
Understandable. But there’s a way to skirt discomfort and boredom and introduce your kids to rhymes that are fun, proven teaching tools.
For example, Lansky has published two books that are anthologies of traditional nursery rhymes rewritten by poets to be more palatable. One of the book’s titles says it all: “Mary Had a Little Jam.”
In class, Orr used nursery rhymes as a literacy tool, to teach rhythmic patterns (with instruments), and to problem solve. The kids acted out the actions of the rhymes.
Palatability was a concern of Orr’s, too. She and her charges found ways to make the rhymes positive and contemporary. They replaced the trouble-spots with words or phrases less likely to offend.
On Friday, when the 4-year-old classes sang “Jack and Jill,” they end with the youngsters taking the pail of water to mom, who thanks them.
And when the 3-year-olds sang “Old Mother Hubbard,” the mother ventures to a pet store to buy the dog a bone.
“I wanted to bring back the traditional rhymes as pure enjoyment because they are childish and imaginative,” Orr told me in an e-mail. “Where else would we find a cat playing a fiddle or children living in a shoe?”
• Rick Badie’s column appears on Sundays, Tuesdays and Thursdays. Contact him at 770-263-3875 or e-mail rbadie@ajc.com.
Permalink | Comments (2) | Categories: Rick Badie
Rail garden brings joy of trains to public
The Atlanta Journal-Constitution
You may not know it, but Gwinnett has two new communities.
Ever heard of Vines and Dogwood?
They’re nestled between Grayson and Loganville, fantasy towns that make up Vines Garden Railroad. It’s located in Vines Park, a walk-sit-and- feed-the-ducks facility off Oak Grove Road near Loganville.
This outdoor railroad will blow your mind. It has more than 1,000 feet of G-scale track, eight steam or diesel engines, a 25-foot steel trestle, waterfall, farm, airport and a Wal-Mart.
Yes, a Wal-Mart.
Lawrence McFall and other members of the Vines Railroad Society say theirs is the only public model-train garden in the state. The men ought to know. They are members of the Georgia Garden Railroad Society.
“There are plenty of private ones around here, but you’ll never get in them,” quipped Bob Giselbach of Buford. “You’ll never get an invitation to see those.”
But at Vines, the public’s welcome, and it’s free.
I mentioned the attraction to a few people who have lived in Gwinnett for decades. They’d never heard of Vines Park, much less the Vines Garden Railroad.
On Wednesday, after an invite from volunteers who want to spread the word about the site, the Badie Tour checked it out.
How the rail garden came to be is a story in itself.
John Gibb used to lease the restaurant and catering business that’s still located in the 90-acre park. In the late 1990s, after becoming interested in garden railroads, he invested time and money in designing and building the Vines railroad. The upkeep, coupled with running the business, became a burden.
So he shut the railroad down.
Three years ago, McFall and other volunteers struck a deal with the county. Reopen the railroad as a public garden railroad, and the society would maintain it. The group cleared the site and restored the railroad equipment. It reopened in the summer of 2003.
The society, a nonprofit organization, has only six members. Other volunteers are Ron Nelsen of Loganville, Bill Robertson of Stone Mountain, Hub Evens of Lilburn and Norman Allum of Dacula.
All are retirees, 70-somethings. All are vets. All are loco for locomotives.
“Big boys, that’s what we are,” Nelsen told me. “But mostly, we love the kids coming by. They get a glow over them.”
This is not a cheap endeavor. Despite donations, McFall said members are always dipping into their pockets. He puts the current value of the layout at nearly $20,000.
The railroad is open to the public on Sundays from early May to fall. The society would like to open it on more days but needs help to operate it.
So if you’re a train hobbyist, give McFall a call.
Then you can brag to friends about how you help manage two little-known Gwinnett communities.
• Weather permitting, the Vines Garden Railroad, 3500 Oak Grove Road in Loganville, is open from 11 a.m. to 3 p.m. on Sundays. To schedule a group trip, contact Lawrence Mcfall at 770-554-9697 or e-mail limfixtur@bellsouth.net. Online: www.vinesgardenrail road.com.
• Rick Badie’s column appears on Sundays, Tuesdays and Thursdays. Contact him at 770-263-3875 or e-mail rbadie@ajc.com.
Permalink | Comments (6) | Categories: Rick Badie
In sharing their locks, children discover lots of love
The Atlanta Journal-Constitution
After Katie Norton donated her ponytail to charity, she tried to get two other Girl Scouts to do likewise.
“Do it, please?” she begged Megan, her 12-year-old sister, and Phoebe Pearson, Megan’s 13-year-old friend.
Megan and Phoebe had not planned on getting their locks trimmed at Monday’s hair-cutting event to remember a 10-year-old girl who had a big heart. But 100 or so other people attended the event for that very purpose.
Their hair was tied in a ponytail, measured to a 6- or 10-inch length, and snipped. The ponytail went into a bag. Then, stylists from the Taylor Brooks Salon and Spa in Alpharetta worked their magic on the hair left intact.
On Monday, dozens turned out for “Chops for Locks — Remembering Erica 2007,” a six-hour event held at Grace Fellowship Church in Snellville.
Last summer, Erica Paige Whitney of Lilburn was killed in a car crash just south of Augusta. The rising fifth-grader at Mountain Park Elementary was returning home from Myrtle Beach, S.C., with her family.
Erica had a favorite charity: Locks of Love, a Florida-based nonprofit that provides hairpieces and wigs to kids who lose their hair because of medical conditions such as cancer. She had donated her own hair once and had plans to do so again.
So the family hosted Monday’s hair-cutting affair to honor Erica and to benefit the nonprofit. Wendy Stoner, Erica’s mom, and Erica’s siblings, Emma Stoner, 3, and Gracie Whitney, 7, were the first customers at this inaugural event.
“When school lets out, it’s going to be crazy,” Stoner predicted early Monday. “Lots of kids.”
When it comes to hair, Erica’s father, Rodney Whitney, is as slick as an onion. He kept busy stocking snacks and beverages made available for the donors.
“It’s rough,” Whitney told me. “My way of dealing with it is to think of all the great memories, the 10 great years we had together, all the great things we did. She taught me things. I taught her things. She made me a better person.”
Erica would have turned 11 last Thursday. The family held a celebration by her graveside at Floral Hills Memorial Gardens off Lawrenceville Highway. They shared a cookie cake.
Dad and the girls sang a line from a skit they saw on “That’s So Raven,” a Disney show.
“Do you like your turkey fried?”
It’s a line they often sang with Erica. She liked putting on a show, playing recreational sports and participating in the Girl Scouts. A flier was circulated within the Girl Scouts’ family to let scouts like Katie Norton know about Monday’s event.
Katie’s hair grows about an inch a month, so she’ll be able to donate again about this time next year. She probably will.
“If I had cancer, I would want a wig,” she told me.
Before I left the church, Katie’s sister, Megan, and her friend, Phoebe, approached Katie.
“We talked about it,” Megan announced. “We’re going to do it.”
And they did.
Rick Badie’s column appears on Sundays, Tuesdays and Thursdays. Contact him at 770-263-3875 or e-mail: rbadie@ajc.com.
Permalink | Comments (5) | Categories: Rick Badie
‘C’ students also can see a bright future
The Atlanta Journal-Constitution
He’s taught at the college level. Middle and high school, too.
So Michael Woodward knows a thing or two about kids and the skills they need to get into college and succeed.
He’s seen all types, but the one thing that bugged him the most were unprepared learners. Students who lacked confidence in themselves, who were afraid to speak up in class, to ask questions, make presentations. To think.
“They didn’t have the tools,” said Woodward, who teaches history and geography and coaches wrestling at Norcross High School.
“There was a clear disconnect between what the universities expected, and what kids were taught in the school and, of course, at home.”
So Woodward culled together a free program that’s geared toward metro Atlanta kids not expected to go to college. The borderline kids, those with C averages or who might not blow the SAT out of the water.
It’s called the Alpha Leadership Program, a name that reflects Alpha Phi Alpha, the black college fraternity Woodward joined while earning three undergraduate degrees and a master’s degree at Florida A&M.
Now in its fourth year, the program relies on volunteers, grants and fund-raisers to stay afloat. It’s growing too. Reputation and mission are selling points.
In 2004, organizers expected a first-year enrollment of 15 or so students. They wound up with 35. The next year, when they thought they’d have 35 participants, 75 signed up, followed by more than 100 the following year.
This year, 125 students took part in activities that ran concurrent with the school-year calendar. On weekends, they attended sessions that dealt with etiquette, proper attire, interview skills, critical thinking and public speaking. They learned about college financial aid and how to select colleges.
A highlight was a trip to North Carolina for tours at several colleges, including Wake Forest, Shaw University and North Carolina A&T. The group visited the Bank of America Corporate Center in Charlotte, too.
“We want them all to go to college, and 98 percent of them do,” said Woodward, 37, of Lawrenceville. “But we’ll take getting them in the military or trade school as well.”
He recalls one student well.
Sasha Johnson, a 2006 Norcross High grad whom he described as a “middle-of-the-road kid” was unmotivated about college.
“She was bright and had a great personality,” said Woodward, who also runs a tutoring business in Tucker. “We worked real hard with her.”
Hard work paid off.
Last fall, Johnson was accepted at Middle Georgia College. In January, she was killed in a car accident while returning to campus. Her mother, Ki Johnson, asked Woodward to speak at the funeral. Pallbearers were volunteers from the leadership program.
“These are African-American men who have families and could be doing other things, but they have decided to invest their time and money in our children,” Johnson told me.
“I am indebted to that program and if they have any needs, I’ve told them to let me know because they invested so much into Sasha.”
To learn more about the Alpha Leadership Program, please contact Michael Woodward at 678-525-3498 or e-mail:mwoodward@alphalearn ingandtutoring.com.
• Rick Badie’s column appears on Sundays, Tuesdays and Thursdays. Contact him at 770-263-3875 or e-mail: rbadie@ajc.com.
Permalink | Comments (20) | Categories: Rick Badie
Asking people questions? I can handle that job - or so I thought
The Atlanta Journal-Constitution
The job, at first blush, sounds simple.
Dial the phone number. (In some cases, the computer does this for you).
Read the survey questions verbatim.
Listen to the responder’s answers.
Type them into the system.
“It’s a little more complicated than that, but that’s the gist of it,” said Jeffrey Lorber, director of call center operations for The Myers Group. The firm measures customer satisfaction — and displeasure — for contracted health care professionals across the country.
On Sunday, I wrote a column about the Snellville survey firm’s desire to hire up to 100 or so telephone interviewers. The extra help was needed because the company has a big research project that must be completed by the end this month. That’s in addition to the usual work load.
So far, about 200 or so potential hires have contacted the firm, thanks in part to the column and other means the company took to get folk on board. Lorber’s been busy training workers.
Since I wrote about the company’s needs, I thought it would be interesting to see what, exactly, the job entails.
So on Wednesday, the Badie Tour stopped by to see what the new hires are getting themselves into. I left with a different perspective on the job of telephone interviewers.
You never know what or who you’re going to get on the other end. Lorber, though, insists that’s the beauty and mystique of this part-time gig. He should know. Back in the day, when he was struggling to make it as an actor in New York, he did it for $3 an hour.
“The toughest part of the job is handling objections,” he told me. “The top interviewers who overcome them with ease and confidence — those are the good ones.”
Before I logged on, Lorber gave me a truncated version of the two to three-hour training program. My job, he told me, was relatively simple.
“Get a completed survey,” he said.
“Since you’re new, your goal for the day will be to get two completed surveys within an hour, OK? You’re a rookie. I don’t want you to get frustrated on your first day.”
Obviously, this director didn’t know who he was talking to. Me. Someone who’s been interviewing politicians, parents, veterans, crooks and kids for two decades. Someone who’s written tear-jerkers, tragedies, and tales of triumph. After all, this wasn’t telemarketing — I wasn’t trying to sell anything.
If I could get Daniel Carver, a nut job who had his hey-day in the mid-1980s as a member of the Ku Klux Klan to open up, then surely someone in Any City, USA would be willing to opine about their health care coverage.
So I thought.
After practice runs with the scripted introduction and closed-end questions, it was time to log on. The computer dials the responder’s phone automatically, and walks you through the questionnaire — if you’re fortunate enough to reach a live body on the other end.
Most folk aren’t sitting around waiting for the telephone to ring on a weekday morning. So daytime interviewers get lots of answering machines. Then there’s the disconnected numbers, wrong numbers, busy signals and, if you’re lucky to reach someone, occasional language barriers.
If you reach someone who’s Hispanic, you try to set up a “call back” time when a Spanish-speaking interviewer can call. No matter the response, though, the call has to be documented in the system.
Minutes into my one-hour shift, I hit pay dirt. A living breathing human being picks up. We breeze through the questionnaire — “yes”, “no,” “agree,” and so on. Suddenly, the wails start. A baby’s crying. Mom’s got to go. I try to rush through the rest of the questions. The baby starts screaming.
“Call me back later,” the woman suggests.
And hangs up.
Apparently, that happens every now and then. A responder will bail right in the midst of being surveyed. It happened to me twice.
Needless to say, I didn’t reach my goal of two completed surveys. In fact, I didn’t complete one.
“You’re fired,” joked Lorber after my stint.
“On the surface, it looks easy, but you’re dealing with the public,” he told me. “And there are a variety of people out there.”
• Rick Badie’s column appears on Sundays, Tuesdays and Thursdays. Contact him at 770-263-3875 or e-mail rbadie@ajc.com.
Permalink | Comments (5) | Categories: Rick Badie
Scenes unworthy of understanding
The Atlanta Journal-Constitution
Today’s column was supposed to be about a nonprofit group that helps kids get to college.
That will have to hold for another day.
Instead, I want to share four recent experiences.
Scene I
It’s Tuesday. My son and I are running errands and stop by a cleaners. A young woman stands on the sidewalk near the store. She smokes a cigarette and talks on a cellphone.
A car makes its way down the parking lot, heading for the exit.
The woman on the cellphone apparently knows the female driver. A friend, perhaps. When the car gets near, she yells a throaty greeting, loud enough to be heard all over town.
“Hey you f——— b——!” Says it twice. We hear it both times.
I look at my son and he looks at me. Then I look at the young woman. She thinks nothing of it, acts as if she just said “hello.”
Scene II
Different strip mall. Different day.
I’ve been Krogering. Two young men are walking alongside the Wal-Mart. One of the young men is wearing a tank top and a pair of shorts. His shorts are somewhere around his knees. His derrière, covered in boxers, is entirely exposed.
As I drive by the two young men, I look directly at the one showing his boxers, and shake my head. In my rear view, I see him stop, raise up, gesture, like he’s ready to throw down. But young people don’t fight much these days.
They shoot.
Scene III
I strike up a conversation with an algebra teacher from a local middle school. He tells me about the crazy stuff that goes on in schools, and one of the more ridiculous examples is how some students wear $300 to $400 outfits.
How does he know?
They tell him, man. They point to their Sean John sweaters and Jordan sneakers and rattle off prices that equal several weeks worth of groceries. And they’re proud.
They also tell him about the lyrics and videos they’re exposed to, and when he explains that he doesn’t tune in at home, they respond in disbelief.
After all, doesn’t everybody watch music videos?
Scene IV
It’s Saturday afternoon at the Taco Mac on Mountain Industrial Boulevard. I’m talking to a 40-something man, a divorced father of a middle or high school-aged daughter.
Initially, he asks who I think will win that night’s boxing match. Turns out he and I are cut from the same cloth. We couldn’t care less who wins, and watch from a distance the frenzy that takes over when events are promoted like the Second Coming.
Our conversation turns to this old world. He, like me, doesn’t know what to make of it. He’s discouraged, disconnected and disillusioned. I tell him the story from Scene I, about the young woman’s term of endearment for her friend.
He shakes his head.
“That’s the way [young people] talk to each other,” he tells me.
Maybe we’re getting old and because of that, we don’t get it. But even if that’s true, calling friends derogatory terms and wearing your pants half off your behind aren’t worth understanding. They’re degrading, symptoms of issues that run deeper than a love for what’s new, hip and popular.
So I ask you:
When it comes to society, us, our young people, do you ever wonder like me, like Marvin Gaye:
“What’s going on?”
Rick Badie’s column appears on Sundays, Tuesdays and Thursdays. Contact him at 770-263-3875 or e-mail rbadie@ajc.com.
Permalink | Comments (110) | Categories: Rick Badie
Survey research firm is looking for a few good voices
The Atlanta Journal-Constitution
It’s crunch time for the Myers Group.
Every year, the marketing research firm in Snellville conducts a special series of in-depth surveys to measure the quality of health care providers. It’s one big umbrella job with 250 individual research projects underneath it.
And it’s got to be finished this month. May 25.
“That’s a Friday,” said Jeffrey Lorber, director of call center operations for the firm, located in Snellville at U.S. 78 and Henry Clower Boulevard.
“Maybe I can go till the 27th. But we have lots of other projects on top of this that’s compounded the situation.”
So the Myers Group has hung out the “help wanted” sign. In a big way. They’re advertising in local publications and relying on word of mouth. You may have seen some company reps handing out fliers Saturday during the Snellville Days Festival.
And they’ve turned to me to help put spread the word. Company executives say they need to hire 70 to 100 telephone interviewers. Quickly.
Maybe you’re interested.
You can work up to 40 hours, maybe earn overtime. It doesn’t matter if you’re a high school (16 or older) or college student, or an adult already saddled with a full-time job. Hours are flexible. The Myers Group conducts surveys year-round for various health care plans in 40 states.
“We can work something out,” said Lorber, who oversees the pool.
To sweeten the pot, the firm has bumped up hourly pay. Wages usually start at $7 an hour. But for the month of May, anyone with a high school diploma can earn $10 an hour. If you’re bilingual, make it $11.
Don’t discount permanent employment, either.
“We’ll probably retain the best folk,” Lorber told me. “We have plenty of work beyond May, so we’ll be interested in keeping the best people. We’d have to renegotiate salary, and we offer no health benefits.”
If you’re thinking telemarketing, don’t. You don’t sell anything. You gather opinions as a CATI (Computer Assisted Telephone Interviewer). That means you ask clients about their experience with a health care provider who’s contracted with the Myers Group.
At your cubicle, everything’s on the computer screen. Hit a button. The computer dials the customer. Follow prompts on the screen, which provide everything from the greeting to the scripted survey questions. The average survey lasts 7 to 10 minutes.
“We spend two to three hours on training,” Lorber told me. “We want people to sound professional, mature and enthusiastic — those are the qualities we look for. We hire from all walks of life, a whole variety of people who want part-time work.”
Call the Myers Group hotline at 770-978-3173, Ext. 300. Leave a message. If they like your vocal quality and (lack of) dialect, you’ll be contacted and scheduled for paid training.
So what are you waiting for?
For more information about the Myers Group, go to www.themyersgroup.net.
• Rick Badie’s column appears on Sundays, Tuesdays and Thursdays. Contact him at 770-263-3875 or e-mail rbadie@ajc.com.
Permalink | | Categories: Rick Badie
Lanier MIddle School students gave ME a boost on career day
The Atlanta Journal-Constitution
I love my job.
And despite what radio provocateurs say about “drive-by” media and liberal bias, the life of a journalist still intrigues.
Especially when it’s a bunch of curious seventh-graders.
On Wednesday, Lanier Middle School held its Career Fair. I was invited to represent the media. I’ve done more than my share of these type events, and this was one of the best — from the questions the students asked right down to the pepper rings offered with our sub sandwiches.
At first, I felt ill-prepared. Some of the career representatives went all out. The Publix representative, an artist/event coordinator, had a vase of flowers and balloons. A doctor displayed a fake human skeleton.
I showed up like I typically do for an assignment. With note pad and pen.
No worries, though.
Like I said, a journalist still carries cache, even when he’s placed next to someone like Brian Gardner, a national scout for the Tampa Bay Buccaneers. Man, was he a hit with the boys.
But Eliann Rodriquez, a seventh-grader, was on to something.
“You’re a reporter,” she told me, laughing. “Everybody wants to talk to you.”
Well, not everybody, but enough of the 850 or so seventh-graders to make restroom breaks a luxury.
At events like this, there’s typically one question that everyone wants to ask.
“How much do you make?”
Of the 75 or so kids who interviewed me, only two traveled down that road, something I attribute to one of two things. The students were instructed not to. They’re a mighty polite bunch over at Lanier Middle, a Buford campus of nearly 2,500 students.
The best exchanges took place when students ventured off the questionnaire to ask about my job as a columnist. A few wanted to know how many words make up a column (550 or so); who decides what I write (me); how I come up with ideas (by any means necessary); and why I became a writer (I sucked at math).
Some students talked about their desire to enter the profession. Claire Nellums, 13, has a working title for a short story. “Jules.”
“It’s about a girl in school and the stuff she goes through throughout her day,” she told me.
When it was all over, when the last class came and went and the Badie Tour packed up and headed out, I was left with this thought.
It’s a shame what little value society puts on the written word — newspapers, books and magazines. It’s unfortunate that print media professionals have let talking heads and agenda-minded mutants degradate and belittle our craft, the jobs we do and take seriously.
So when I left Lanier Middle, I made a pledge.
I plan to challenge folk I come across who spout that tired argument about the liberal media and its biases, especially in a day and time when conservatives rule talk radio and a certain “news” channel. I won’t sit quiet and let people blast newspapers, call them worthless when you consider what you can get in return for a mere 50 cents.
Yeah. I love my job. Warts and all.
The enthusiasm of the kids at Lanier Middle helped reaffirm that.
• Rick Badie’s column appears on Sundays, Tuesdays and Thursdays. Contact him at 770-263-3875 or e-mail rbadie@ajc.com.
Permalink | Comments (20) | Categories: Rick Badie
.JPG)
-1.JPG)
Services »
