"Your life is not your own."

This quote was in response to me asking my grandfather what was his greatest accomplishment within his political career.  I believe this is a true statement for any person who becomes a public figure. My grandfather tells the audience his response and then begins to talk about political life in general in regards to his own life and family life too. It's pretty straightforward and matter of fact. My eyes were opened to the fact that a person can't have it all. There will always be an imbalance. If you're a good politician, the family life suffers. If you're a good family man, the political career suffers. It's a no win situation. I plan to follow up this question by exploring how else a politician's life isn't their own. This area piqued my interest.


"It's like anything else... you have to like what you're doing. People are in politics because they LIKE it."

This quote was in response to me asking my grandfather if there was anything else he wanted my audience to know.  Looking back on my interview, I now want to ask my grandfather, "Why do they like it so much?" What's the fascination, the intrigue for those interested? Obviously, it helps to like what one does, but what makes politics so enjoyable that many people are drawn to this civil service? I wonder what makes politics to appealing to some and for others, they could care less. I will make sure to find out the answer as I collaborate with Pop as I edit and add things to my oral history.He talks about being liked and well respected by people in both political parties. This seems to make him happy.

"You're Bob Yost?"

This quote came from a story Pop was telling me. While in rehab this past summer, Pop's roommate recognized his name, and asked my grandfather if he was THE Bob Yost. My grandfather chuckles and thinks this is funny because he hasn't seen this man in over 38 years. He was one of Pop's campaign workers. This man apparently still holds my grandfather up in a high regard. The ironic thing is Pop doesn't feel this way, he feels like a 92 year old man who's stuck in a hospital bed in rehab just like the man next to him. I would like to use this in my oral history in some way. I think it's a nice testament to my grandfather's dedication to his political career. He gave up a lot to have a lot, and to have such a compliment come his way after not only being retired for over 20 years, but even longer since seeing his roommate, was heartwarming and endearing to hear.

          The focus of my oral history is that of my 92 year old grandfather, Robert Yost Sr. and his almost 40 year career in politics in the state of New Jersey, starting with his victory win into the local Civic Association, to his five year term as Register of Deeds for Camden County. I recently sat down with my grandfather and video recorded our interview at his home in Glendora, New Jersey in the house he's lived in since the 1940's.   I initially was worried about Pop's recollection of past events because  for the past eight months or so his health was steadily declining, and some dementia has surfaced. Well, there were no memory problems today! Pop was a sharp as a tack. In fact, when I called the night before to ask if I could interview him, he seemed thrilled to tell his story and even chuckled with that political laugh of his. It was showtime again! 

          I have many goals for my oral history interview.  My first goal is to try to get a general understanding and feel for the world of politics through my grandfather's first person account, and how he got interested in politics in the first place. I try to divide his career into three categories: Politics on the local level, the state level, and finally, the county level.  Another goal I have is to explore what does it take to be a good politician, and why he never aspired to climb the political ladder higher, or did he? My last part of the oral history focuses on accomplishments and regrets.

         Through this interview I learned many things about my grandfather, things I never knew before. Growing up, I was not very close to my paternal grandparents. It's not that they didn't care about me, they did. They were just very involved with my grandfather's career and we didn't have much of a relationship. I mostly saw them on holidays and sporadic weekends at the shore. As my grandfather is nearing the end of his lifespan, I am very thankful that I got the opportunity to get to know him a little better through this oral history project. To hear him retell old stories was fascinating to me. My uncle created  an album dedicated to my Pop's political career, which I plan to steal ideas from for my Oral History page. It's filled with pictures, newspaper clippings, and many letters of thanks, plus so much more. What a treasure for our family to have! I never knew what went on behind the scenes with Pop's career. I moslty remember re-election campaign billboards that said "Re-Elect Bob Yost" on our front lawn year after year, and doing what we could as a family to help him get re-elected over the years. Our family is considered to be the Kennedy's of Glendora, haha. During the interview he was very funny, knowledgeable, and proud as he recounted his political career to me and my audience. I plan to go back this week and wrap up with a few more questions for him.

           Reading Louis Banks story Hard Times was a real eye opener for me. The story talks about how difficult it was for both white and black people to get jobs during The Great Depression. I have been told some stories over the years from relatives who lived through it, but Banks’ narrative helped me see the adversities in a whole new light. I especially liked the quote, “Black and white, it didn’t make any difference who you were, ‘cause everybody was poor.” After the stock market crashed, everyone was. I did find it interesting though that even though all these men were hoboes looking for work, still race came into place and only the whites were hired. That had to be painfully hard to swallow for the black men because they too were going from place to place just to find work so they could make money for their families. I thought this part of the story was very sad. I thought it was so endearing when the men would call home to their mothers and tell them how good things were, when truth be told they were sleeping under steps.

            What I most admired about all these men, black or white, was their strength and resilience to make a bleak situation better. In my opinion, they were very courageous leaving their families to find work, earning meager amounts of money. I especially found it interesting that the man was glad to go into the Army. I thought it a peculiar way to look at things, but I could see his point of view. At least he had a roof over his head, had food to eat, and steady money coming in. I guess for him, even though the threat of death lurked at all times, was better than life on the streets pandering to make money. It ‘s almost like people homeless people who go and get themselves arrested because they too will have a roof over their head and three square meal to eat. Maybe it’s a survival instinct.

            This reading reminded me of the stories I have heard from my mom, aunt, and grandmother of their time when they lived through The Depression. I’ve heard how hard it was for people, how they had to ration things to survive, and how eventually when things got better, they stuck to that mentality for fear of it happening again. My grandfather today is still a frugal man, even though he has lots of money in the bank. He’s just never forgotten how tough it was back then, and wants to have money saved just in case it should happen again. I can’t imagine how my family would be affected should that happen to us in this generation. I guess we can learn a lesson from those who’ve gone before us and appreciate things a little bit more.

              I must say that of all our readings from the beginning of the semester, Eva Hoffman’s Lost in Translation is by far my favorite to date. Although I do not relate to her complete life, I can relate to her relationship with the library. Ever since I was a little girl, I have always loved going to the library. I loved my school’s library in elementary school, but most of all, I loved my local library. My parents would take me just about every week or two weeks just like Hoffman’s mother took her. I especially loved Hoffman’s quote when she described the library. She says in part, “the space of mystery and magic, one whose threshold I stand a humble acolyte.” I felt the same way. The library was a magical place for me too. I would spend hours on end there, reading different books and picking out many to take home. Often, I could be seen leaving with a pretty large stack of books, and like Hoffman, when I got home, I would immediately begin to read one. I loved reading and still do to this day. I like being whisked to another time. I used to wish like Hoffman did for reality to imitate art. I wished my life was at times like my stories. That would be fun!

            When Hoffman describes reading the books about the boarding schools it reminded me of a time when I had to sneak a book because of its contents. It was a chapter book by Judy Blume entitled Forever. Through the whispers in middle school I heard about this book and bought it when the book fair came to school. It was a story about young love and what young lovers do. I never read a book so fast in my life for fear it would be taken away and I wouldn’t know how it ended. I guess it was racy at the time due to the descriptive language which left little to the imagination. In the end, I loaned the book to my cousin, whose mom took notice of her sudden voracious reading habit. It got taken away, and of course my mom was called because it was my book! The book remained in my dad’s undershirt drawer for years; I guess my parents thought I wouldn’t ever find it??

            There was one particular book I would continually take out over and over. I just loved everything about this particular story. Well a couple of years ago I was searching around Barnes and Noble’s website, and on a whim I looked at the Out of Print books. I ended up finding that book, and my boyfriend bought me one of the copies from a vendor for my birthday. This book that I read over and over is a nice reminder of the Saturdays I spent in the library. It’s one of my most prized possessions! Every now and then I look at this book and am immediately transported back in time to a place filled with mystery and magic.

       Tweeting and using Twitter did make me more mindful and connected to “my place.” It did force me to pay attention and made me more observant to my surroundings as well. Before I had my specific place in mind, I randomly tweeted my thoughts and uploaded pictures to my Twitter, hoping one day it would all come together. What I noticed was that I was so much more aware of my surroundings..the sounds, the smells, the appearances and colors schemes. I looked beyond my comfort zone. My senses were definitely heightened due to this Twitterive project. I began to listen more intently, smell deeper, and most of all, just feel. Feel the moment, and wonder what connections could be made from these feelings and heightened senses. I would say that I tweeted slowly at first due to uncertainties, but soon graduated to a steady pace. At first, I wasn’t sure if my tweets were on the right track, but then I just gave in and embraced, it throwing caution to the wind. I really got into the swing of things when I went to the Borgata. I remember tweeting, “imagine the twitterive possibilities.” I had fun taking different pictures, sending them to Twitter for future decoding. I also remember going to my mom’s cemetery to get ideas for my Twitterive. For the first time I really stopped to see what surrounded me while there. I smelled the air, felt the soft breeze, and just sat, silently listening to the birds chirping in the distance. I remember watching a butterfly merrily fly past me, thinking how life lives all around me right now in this place of death.

  When I finally decided to have “my place” be my childhood home, I went back to the old neighborhood to explore and reconnect with my old life. Although I do go to the neighborhood many times a year to visit my aunt, I don’t always go up to the dead end to my old house. When I do go, I visit with my heart. This time I opened my heart, my senses, and my eyes. It felt good to reconnect. I noticed the trees and greenery got taller just like the small child in me grew up. I remember driving first, stopping to take pictures, and trying to feel things. It wasn’t really until I parked my car and walked up my street to my old house that I “felt” things happen. I eerily felt as if it were any other day in my youth walking home from school or for dinner. I stopped at my driveway’s edge, wanting so bad to go up the walkway. But I thought I would get into trouble for trespassing so I didn’t. That was a weird feeling for me. I was home, but couldn’t go in. I just stood there looking around, taking it all in, and remembering. While standing in the street, I heard echoes of kickball games, and saw and heard the train pass by. I remembered how that sound would put me to sleep every night. Some things did appear smaller, but isn’t that true when one gets older? The feelings were not lost on my when I had to tweet. I was still able to be present in the moment. In fact, I eagerly tweeted, retracing my old life. I was excited to share my life with my friends. I wanted them to know my “home.” Tweeting about my old house was kind of like an affirmation that I really did live there even though someone else does now.

 

In the end, I was grateful for this experience. Although I will always feel “connected” to my place, I truly felt connected at that place and time spent there. It put a smile on my face, and filled up a void I often suffer from. For some reason my old house spoke to me for this project, not quieting down, and tugging at my heartstrings until her story was told.

 

     Creating my Twitterive was a very good learning experience for me.  Along the way I took many technological steps to get to my finished product. I was curious and eager to see how this project would unfold. I had used Twitter before in a previous technology class, and I didn’t really see the point of constantly updating one’s status. I mean, who really cares? Hasn’t that already been explored on Facebook? However, I was open and excited to the challenge, and I embraced the opportunity once again to advance myself in the world of technology through tweets and twitpics. The last time I used Twitter for an assignment, I just went to the website every time on my computer. This time I downloaded the Twitter app on my Blackberry. We were mobile! Now through the app, my Twitter would always be with me so I could tweet my thoughts and upload my interesting pictures through Twitpic. Once I got the hang of Twitpic, there was no stopping me. I began to really enjoy the creative end of my Twitterive. Sometimes I felt silly; other times I felt inspired. I wasn’t sure how everything would turn out, but I just kept following Professor Mangini’s directions to tweet and upload pictures, and eventually the story would present itself. It was true, and I eventually saw it begin taking shape. It’s funny, just when I thought my Twiterive was going in one direction, it ended up going in a different one. I found tweeting easy and did it a lot. I knew the more pictures I took and the more tweets I shared, the more material I would have to work with for my final product presented on my Weebly website. I really learned a lot when creating my Twitterive. I learned that technology can be used in an interesting and positive way to promote writing. As we come to the end of our everyday usage of tweets and twitpics, I will continue to use Twitter even after the fact. Now I can/will use it creatively in the future instead of just saying what I’m doing.

 

My technology process continued as I used the Weebly website. I created a Twitterive page, a gallery of sorts, to showcase my work. The Weebly site was relatively easy to use when creating my own website. However, when using it though for my end product, there were some font issues and other minute problems that I had to overcome. Overall I found using Weebly to be very user friendly in the grand scheme of things. I don’t think it should be used for Blogs though. That’s what blog sites are for. There’s not much room to play around with Weebly on the downside. One has to remember it’s kind of a bare bones template for creating a website. It does get the job done, there’s just not too many bells and whistles that other sites can afford you. It did get the job done for my Twitterive assignment. I was very happy and satisfied with my Twitterive final outcome. What I learned during the process will carry over into my future life as a teacher. I can use this type of idea maybe later on in my classroom as a group project one day.