carrefour

In Joe's most recent blog post, he talks about a poet that he checked out via the American Library. I was reading the post & clicking on the poems he suggested (which I suggest that you do as well) by Amy Lowell. One of the link poems is titled "Carrefour" & I laughed, because this is a loaded word for me lately. I'll save you a click & post it here.

O You,
Who came upon me once
Stretched under apple-trees just after bathing,
Why did you not strangle me before speaking
Rather than fill me with the wild white honey of your words
And then leave me to the mercy
Of the forest bees.

"Carrefour" is the grocery down the round, nearly halfway between our house & Lauren's, our American friends. I stop there nearly four times a week–on my way to her place for dinner for a few beers, or on our way to friends to snag wine; after class to grab supplies for lunch; in the morning when Joe is gone to surprise him with restocked coffee supplies.

It was nearing daily last semester, & it got to the point of pure embarrassment. I would forget one thing–yogurt or cheese, sausage or another brick of butter–& hang my head as I walked back through the automatic doors. One of my students worked there. I would avoid using his "caisse" (cash register) for fear of continuing the ongoing joke. Who's here more–you or me? "Moi," we both reply.

I've slowed down on the grocery shopping & make sure we stick closer to our weekly budget. Unfortunately, this does not mean more grocery shopping WITH Joe, a pastime I thought would be a part of each week. Our schedules, though we're both only–on paper–working part-time (plus the tutoring gigs), are harder to coordinate than I'd expected.

* * *

"Carrefour" is, more importantly, a French word translated to an intersection or, more perfectly full of symbolism, a crossroads. I feel like I'm standing in the middle of one, with tiny French cars whipping by on each side. I've entered a stage where my mind is increasingly in the United States.

I'm still organizing & listing & mentally shopping for our lives back in the States. I'm studying statistics in my free time & trying to figure out what my future looks like. People asking me, "But what do you do with a public affairs degree?" is even more difficult than, "What do you do with a public relations degree?"

I always had the generic "I related to the public" response. That doesn't work, & I don't know what I want to say instead. I want to work on legislation. I want to force the country toward social reform. I want to get my hands dirty behind the scenes of politics & change the key messages–see? Public relations still applies in the end...

I want to do this without becoming the obligatory Career Woman. I want this system to stop being a dichotomy. I want to be fully invested in my career, in my volunteer work, in the passions that matter most to my life–fusing writing & public action. I want to foster strong family values in children. I want to have time for children before I'm 30, & I want to have a job before I'm 30. I want a job where I know a pregnancy won't result in my being let go. Yes, that still happens. Don't kid yourself.

I want to write a list & re-write it until all of these things fit, but they don't. So instead, I write grocery lists & go to Carrefour. I study statistics & tell myself I enjoy it. I remind myself that we've promised not to have children until we have health care & jobs. I remind myself that I'm only 23. That I'm going to school again. That I have Joe. That I'll be back to my family.

I try to finish crossing the street.

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