Kevin Patrick Kenealy's Blog, page 4

A Eulogy to Saunoris

Saunoris Garden Center in Chicago Ridge is closing its doors and greenhouses after eighty years of being in business. Eighty years. Out of those eighty years, I worked there for ten of them.

I remember my first day as if it were yesterday. I was a junior in high school, and I had been looking for a job for a couple of weeks – Sears, Home Depot, Jewel. The people at the local Sid’s Nursery in Palos Hills said I would even be getting a call back, but I never heard anything. Luckily, a family friend of ours, Ozzy, knew people at Saunoris’ Garden Center in Chicago Ridge. I didn’t know the first thing about gardening, but I was ready to work hard and save for my first car.

Here's a picture of me at 19 in 2005 working in the "New Greenhouse" at Saunoris Garden Center in Chicago Ridge.

My friend Chris had already been working at the time, and when I got off my first day, I eagerly called him to tell him of all the things they had me do.

“We drove back and forth to Alsip Self Storage,” I recall telling him this for some reason. Perhaps it was because I drove in the Saunoris’ van with one of the hardest working and friendliest employees I would come to know, Smalls, as we called him. “These Eyes” by The Guess Who played on the radio, and he drummed his fingers on the steering wheel each time the keyboards preluded the chorus. I remember doing a lot of physical labor that day, and by the end of it, fellow employees talked about how hard I worked. It was a good omen for what was to come.

I learned the value of hard work there. On any given day, I may have watered the entire place – the nursery stock, the store’s four greenhouses, and any plants on display in the front of the store. You’d want to do this in the morning as the temps climbed and “fill the pot,” as my boss would say. I learned a lot from him. I learned a lot from everyone. They told me what flowers needed more water – hibiscus, for example – or which needed less – dusty miller. The same day I was watering, I may have needed to empty a truck full of sod or nursery stock, and sometimes it was raining while I did it. I always kept a radio on me for carry-outs. “Can I get four bags of red mulch and six bags of white marble,” they’d say. That was why Saunoris was a natural gym. It got to the point where I could carry eighty pounds of topsoil on one shoulder.

As I worked there longer, my responsibilities grew. I trained others; I sold nursery stock; I learned the intricacies of pH levels on Poinsetta plants. I went on landscaping trips. I took pride in helping customers make decisions to beautify their homes or pick out the perfect wreath for their loved one’s graves.

However, what really made the place special was that we were a family. Employees helped each other out and picked each other up. Managers taught you and respected you when you worked hard. That has to be rare in American workplaces these days. There are so many moments there that will forever bring a smile to my face. The quotes below are just some things that stand out in my mind that I will always take with me.

“Sometimes fast is just fast” – An employee who worked there one summer said this. I was still pretty new there, and I always felt that the faster I worked, the better I worked. While it’s good to be efficient, it’s always good to know what you’re doing.

“If you have confidence, you can do anything.” – A friend of mine told me this. I was shy at one point in my life, and this was kind of a turning point for my social skills. I don’t think I ever thanked him for this.

“That’s innovative.” – This isn’t really a quote, but it was a compliment that stands out to me. I found a way to make wreath production more streamlined by taking a movable bench and producing the wreaths on a table rather than assembling them on the floor. When the veteran employee saw this, he made this comment. It made my day.

“90% percent of a problem with a plant is a watering issue” – This is very true. My boss shed light on how the most straightforward problem can result in horrific results. Just as a flower or a tree can die from receiving too little or too much water, we can add stress to our lives from not meeting our own necessary life needs.

“Always use a wet brush” – This may seem like common sense now, but it wasn’t to a 16-year-old kid. While painting signs, my boss told me to keep my paintbrush wet. These essential life lessons aren’t taught in schools but are very necessary.

“You have the patience of a saint.” – Why did I include this? My boss told me this. That’s why. It’s always comforting to hear bosses compliment their employees. When you deal in customer service, you have to learn patience, and that skill benefitted me as I became a high school teacher later in life.

There are many more I could include here. I oftentimes came home covered in dirt from handling several rolls of sod after working an 8-6. I’d eat, take a little break, or work on homework, and then go right back to work the next day. I worked all my weekends. I worked every holiday except Christmas, and I didn’t mind. I saved all my checks. The money I raised by working there helped me purchase my first car and put me through college. They always took me back on my breaks from school. They were always there for me, and I was always there for them. In my ten years at Saunoris, there is not a day that goes by that I’m not grateful for what they did for me and what I learned from my time there.

There were bad days, sure. Who likes standing with an indecisive customer in a tree lot in five-degree weather? Or watering rows and rows of annuals on the Fourth of July in the greenhouse? Some days were so hot that I couldn’t stay outside for more than ten minutes. Some days were so cold that I could feel it through ten layers. But I’ll always cherish the good times, the happy times.

A lot of people are going to miss that place. I’m just one of many. And many others have their stories too. My family’s friend Ozzy had his. He helped pass it on to me. If you weren’t lucky enough to stop there, I hope that my words have some kind of impact on you. Thank you for all you’ve done for me. I won’t forget it.

"The Yellow Wallpaper" & Feminist Theory

It's been a long time since I posted on here. Perhaps now that I'm on summer break, I can post more often. Since I have last posted, I have successfully finished a crazy remote/hybrid school year and have completed three grad school classes in English/Creative Writing. I found this last assignment particularly enlightening and wanted to share my work with you. It's just a discussion post, but if you're an English or writing nerd, like me, you may enjoy it!

Image of The Yellow Wallpaper. Courtesy of Google Images

This was my assignment:Select a passage from either "The Story of an Hour" or "The Yellow Wallpaper" and analyze it using a feminist approach. You must choose a different passage from the one discussed in the module overview. Your analysis may center upon the theme of gender identity, marriage, sexuality, illness, or madness/hysteria, or you may select another feminist theoretical concept of interest to you.

KevinExcerpt from "The Yellow Wallpaper":John says if I don't pick up faster he shall send me to Weir Mitchell in the fall.

But I don't want to go there at all. I had a friend who was in his hands once, and she says he is just like John and my brother, only more so!

Besides, it is such an undertaking to go so far.

I don't feel as if it was worthwhile to turn my hand over for anything, and I'm getting dreadfully fretful and querulous.

[I cry at nothing, and cry most of the time.]

Of course I don't when John is here, or anybody else, but when I am alone.

I'm getting really fond of the room in spite of the wallpaper. Perhaps because of the wallpaper.

It dwells in my mind so!

I lie here on this great immovable bed--it is nailed down, I believe--and follow that pattern about by the hour. It is as good as gymnastics, I assure you. I start, we'll say, at the bottom, down in the corner over there where it has not been touched, and I determine for the thousandth time that I will follow that pointless pattern to some sort of a conclusion.

I know a little of the principle of design, and I know this thing was not arranged on any laws of radiation, or alternation, or repetition, or symmetry, or anything else that I ever heard of.

It is repeated, of course, but he breadths, but not otherwise.

The whole thing goes horizontally, too, at least it seems so, and I exhaust myself in trying to distinguish the order of its going in the direction.

They have used a horizontal breadth for a frieze, and that adds wonderfully to the confusion.

It makes me tired to follow it. I will take a nap I guess.

[I don't know why I should write this.

I don't want to.

I don't feel able.]

And I know John would think it absurd. But I must say what I feel and think in some way--it is such a relief!___________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

There are actually a number of components of feminist theory that surround this short story, but the main one that makes this story so chilling is the focus on the main character's struggle with madness and hysteria. This excerpt is from early in the story before she has completely lost control of herself, and we can infer from her relationship with her husband John that her social role as a subservient housewife could be to blame for her descent into madness. Author Phyllis Chesler writes that there is a "psychiatric bias and oppression" toward women, and we see it here as the perfect example when the woman narrator informs us, "John says if I don't pick up faster he shall send me to Weir Mitchell in the fall" (Chesler 1, Perkins 5). In conducting some background information on Weir Mitchell, Mitchell served as a contract surgeon known best for developing a "rest cure" for women suffering from hysteria, which meant "six to eight weeks of isolation, bed rest, a high-calorie diet, massage, and electrotherapy" (“Beyond ‘The Yellow Wallpaper’: Silas Weir Mitchell, Doctor and Poet"). The ironic thing here is that our female narrator received this 'therapy' anyway by being locked up in her room and growing in her hysteria. Reverting back to what John said though, the narrator did not have a voice in this decision. He makes the decision for her on if she is going to see Mitchell or not, despite her saying that she does not want to go there at all.

Moving onward in the excerpt, you see how she tries to repress her emotions around her husband. "[I cry at nothing, and cry most of the time.] Of course I don't when John is here, or anybody else, but when I am alone (5). Her inability to express herself around a man is similar to the "Story of an Hour" passage where she indicates a "suppression of intelligent thought" (Chopin 1). This echoes this madness and hysteria theme in how women play a silent role in society.

Finally, by the last sentence in this passage, we see a confirmation of just how silent the narrator is expected to feel on her mental state. "And I know John would think it absurd. But I must say what I feel and think in some way--it is such a relief!" (Perkins 6). This interpretation of the story from her relationship with her husband makes more sense about why she descends into such a manic state as the story progresses. She has no one to communicate with except her room and the yellow wallpaper.

Works Cited

Chesler, Phyllis. “Women and Madness.” Phyllis-Chesler.Com, 13 Oct. 2005, phyllis- chesler.com/articles/women-and-madness.

Chopin, Kate. “Commitment to Privacy.” Virginia Commonwealth University, 1894, archive.vcu.edu/english/engweb/webtex....

Nyamhistorymed. “Beyond ‘The Yellow Wallpaper’: Silas Weir Mitchell, Doctor and Poet.” Books, Health and History, 8 Apr. 2016, nyamcenterforhistory.org/2016/04/08/ beyond-the-yellow-wallpaper-silas-weir-mitchell-doctor-and-poet.

Perkins Gilman, Charlotte. “The Yellow Wallpaper.” Literary Cavalcade, vol. 53, no. 8, May 2001, p. 14. EBSCOhost, search-ebscohost-com.ezproxy.snhu.edu/login.aspx?

direct=true&db=f5h&AN=4388217&site=eds-live&scope=site.

Today is my first day back teaching

I have to admit. It felt strange not posting on my blog for the first time since April yesterday. Yet, it was relieving to be able to edit my Neighborhood Watch book. I was able to get a few pages and a number of edits in, so that felt good. I said I wouldn't stop posting here altogether, as the need to write keeps bringing me back.

Today is my first day of school. You would think that I would be nervous or stressed, but I am anything but. The last couple of weeks I was a big stress ball, working my butt off to convert all of my lesson plans electronically and making sure that I was ready for one the most unique school years ever. But now I feel that today is like taking a ride on Six Flags' The Giant Drop. The last two weeks were my ascent on that ride and the waiting at the top. That's the most nerve-wracking part of the ride. Today is the exhilarating drop, where you can feel the wind gush through your skin and hair and you scream with joy.

If I didn't put all that work in for today, I probably would feel nervous. Yet I feel at peace as I write this just a mere hour before I have to get ready for the school day. I am also reassuring myself that I am going into my seventh year teaching and that I taught remote in the spring already. I've been down this road once before.

Today is also a half day. There is not much to it besides getting to know my kids and reviewing the class with them. It's an easy start for the both of us. My mom used to say that worrying is a waste of time. She couldn't be more right. There's nothing to worry about here. Remote learning this year will be a series of trials and tribulations. What also calms me is that I'm hearing from teachers elsewhere that their remote learning experiences are going well so far.

Perhaps the hardest part of the next couple of months will be getting to know my students' names. I usually learn all of my kids' names by the third day. I do this by sitting them in assigned seats, reading their names off the seating chart, and greeting them at the door as they walk in. However, now I don't have a seating chart, but just a randomized grid view. I will have to work that much harder to remember names of students I can't physically see. So we'll 'see' how it goes. All I can do, like every other teacher right now, is to try my best.

It's all about routine. I got into a routine in the spring with the kids that I already knew, and I'll get into a routine here with kids I'm just meeting for the first time. It won't be easy, but it's an exciting challenge. There's no need to worry about what's beyond my control. I'm not worried about today. I'm excited for taking that free fall on The Giant Drop. Here's hoping this leads to a better 2020. Good luck all my fellow teachers. We're all in this together.

I'm saying goodbye to my daily blog posts

I'm going to be ditching my daily posts on here starting tomorrow. I still plan on writing on here regularly, but as the school year nears this coming Monday, I only have a narrow window for free time in the day.

What I've been putting off with that narrow window is editing my latest book, Neighborhood Watch and writing my newest one, a collection of true short stories. There just isn't enough time to do all of that in a day when you also work a job and raise a child. While it's been a fun and worthwhile endeavor to bring to you post after post since mid-April, I must prioritize my time with what I feel is most important right now.

I still plan on posting a least a few times a week, as I don't want to abandon this blog outright. It's been a fun run, as I've written on everything and anything. I averaged about 12 views a day and my largest view came on June 9 when I wrote about working my first job. It garnered over 300 views that day. That month, nearly 800 people viewed my blog and it was my most successful month. August has been my slowest blog month since the blog's inception in April with only 292 views so far. In fact, from Aug. 21 to Aug. 26, I had a total of two views total. I'm not sure if my blog tracker app is either broken, or if that information is actually correct. So far, 2,575 people came to kevinpatrickkenealy.com.

Nevertheless, even when I've had less views, it's been invigorating writing new and interesting content. At times, I have gotten down on myself about the lack of viewers, as I've written in my post, "I've got nothing," but mostly, writing in the wee hours of the morning has given me a purpose to wake up.

My writing career went stagnant after leaving my reporting job at The Sun-Times Doings newspaper in 2012. I hardly wrote a word until 2018, when I found out my wife was pregnant. That's when I wrote my novel Life and Death. Coming into a change of life like that made me realize that I should take advantage of the free time to write before the baby came. I wrote every day, and since doing so, I haven't looked back. It has become a glorious habit.

Stephen King said that you should write for you. I've had trouble doing that at times as I often I wonder why certain websites like Buzzfeed generate thousands a of views a day writing on goofy, barely readable topics when I attempt to write more eloquent posts that garner only a few hits. But it's the world we live in today I suppose. People are more drawn to looking at Gifs, videos and pictures than reading the written word. However, that doesn't mean I'll stop writing because that's the medium that I believe in, and I'm okay with that.