Working in a German Restaurant

I went to work as a waitress at a nearby German restaurant. The owner of the restaurant asked if I really wanted to work as a waitress since I had a master’s degree. I told her that I needed to stay around and wait for my fiancé to finish his Ph.D. and I couldn’t find a job in my field nearby. I wanted to work there like everyone else. I never worked in a big restaurant before, just a small Chinese restaurant. This German restaurant was really a busy place. I started from scratch. I didn’t even know how to pronounce most of the items on the menu. I didn’t have any idea about kinds of drinks. It didn’t take me long to pick up the names of common drinks. I asked Anthony to help with the pronunciations of the menu items with an audiocassette tape so I could practice right away. The owner especially liked my fast pace and observations for details. A few of my customers actually made a special trip to the owner to praise my work. Every now and then, I did meet a difficult customer.
     It was quite an experience working in the restaurant. I got to know girls who didn’t even know whether a master’s degree or a Ph.D. was higher. They had been waitresses for their entire careers. I was surprised at how fast the turnover rate was in that place. People came and went so easily. It was a hard, stressful job, especially when the restaurant was busy.
     One Saturday afternoon, people came in from nowhere. One of our waitresses already had worked from lunch. She was very tired. She got a few difficult customers plus the manager was after her. Suddenly, she left without a trace. She left her customer waiting at an empty table. A few months later, she came back as a customer with her boyfriend and looked like her life had changed for the better.
     Some of the others did need this job desperately. There was a young girl named Terry. She loved to work in this restaurant. She was doing fine until one day she came in with heavy makeup and told us that her boyfriend had beaten her up and raped her. She had some bruises and she was going to press charges against him. A few days later while she was working, the police came by to ask her a few questions and also the boy’s parents came to eat. They intentionally gave her a $20 tip for some simple sandwiches and again begged her to drop the charges. I don’t know what her decision was because she was fired for dropping a big pan or dish. I felt sorry for her because she told me that she really needed this job to pay her rent and car payments, and her mom was an alcoholic and she had been on her own since she was 15. I dreamed about her later on and she was fine in my dream.
     Terry was doing okay, at least she had a dependable car that allowed her to work anytime, anywhere. We had another waitress who took taxis to and from work and she was married. From my impression, she liked to talk and talk and pray for good business so she could earn money. She said that she was so much in need of money. But when it was busy, she sometimes couldn’t keep up with her customers and often cried from the stress. She loved wine so much, and she would save customer’s leftover wine and drink them later. I often warned her that she might catch something. She simply replied, “no, germs cannot survive in wine.” She was fired because she ate something in the kitchen without paying.
     Then there were two male waiters. They were handsome young men with athletic figures. The two of them often fought over who had the best table or side chores. One day, they asked me for a quarter so they could decide who was going to get the tables both wanted. I gave them a quarter and forgot about it. Later on, a waitress asked me whether they returned my quarter. I said, “no.” She said, “they always ask for quarters and never give them back. They are tricky.” One of the boys got fired for not doing his share of the side work. He called back a few times to beg the manager to give him his job back.
     There were some good ones though. One of them, I was impressed with was Beth. She was really pregnant and had another two children. She worked until the day she delivered her baby. We tried to tell her to quit earlier. She always said that she needed the extra money to pay her bills. Another older lady Lisa had worked in the same restaurant for 15 years. She was a tough and fair lady. Diane was 55. I think she was the oldest. She had her own house and grown up kids. She just couldn’t stay at home. Margie worked there for eight years. Joanne was a substitute teacher and also worked there a long time.
     In the kitchen, except for one girl who stayed, the rest keep coming and going. She was used to being a dishwasher. She got the chance to cook later on and had been there since. One day, we got a new chef. He was a very experienced chef and worked hard. The manager somehow didn’t like him. I didn’t have anything against him except that he liked to joke with me now and then when I came to the kitchen to get the customers’ food. He said, “Ying, when will we get married?” I always said, “I am taken. Find someone else.” He did. He was dating the waitress Cindy. Cindy was jealous of me because of that. But one day, she came in with her shoulder hurting after playing volleyball. She could not lift her tray. So, she couldn’t work. A week later, her shoulder still hurt and the doctor said that she needed a few weeks to let her muscles recover. She was really angry. So, I asked her whether she wanted to try a Chinese Tiger Bone Patch (Originally named for containing tiger bone (banned now), an ingredient in traditional Chinese medicine dating back 1,500 years to treat pain and inflammation). She said that she would try anything. I gave her two patches and told her to put them on after a warm bath. It usually worked for me. The next day, she came in and said, “what was in that thing that you gave to me? It was really good. Could you tell me where I could get them in town?” I told her about the oriental goods store. She was really nice to me after that because she went back to work that day.
     Most of the waitresses spent their money quickly. Sometimes, they didn’t even wait to go to the bank to cash their checks. They cashed them right there in the restaurant. Most of them smoked a lot, and drank a lot of coffee to keep awake. I felt bad that they didn’t save any of their money or have health insurance either. They just said that they didn’t have money to save and they couldn’t afford to buy health insurance. To be broke was common. I couldn’t imagine being broke or even being a waitress all of my life.
     The owner told us about a girl who worked there and went to work for a local bank and she felt that her self-esteem was higher even though she earned less because she was not working in a service job anymore. Our owner laughed and said every job we have here in the world is a service to one another, directly or indirectly, you just cannot escape that. The more you try, the crazier you make yourself. Her husband was an artist who liked to paint, but when he couldn’t sell his paintings to make a living, he didn’t know what else to do. She worked hard as a waitress and struggled to raise money for her young son. Finally, she saved enough to buy this restaurant when the owner retired. She divorced her husband when she thought that she could not bring him down to reality.
     She improved the restaurant by moving to a larger location and made the restaurant well known. She started with nothing. Fifteen years later, she owned the business and her luxurious home. She came in now and then to oversee and manage the work. She was tough and fair.
     One day, a waitress came in on crutches crying. She just had her calluses removed in the hospital and couldn’t walk. I guessed that she did not schedule the whole thing ahead of time. She just decided to go in the day before when she felt she couldn’t stand to think of the calluses on her heel. This morning she called the owner to tell her she couldn’t walk. The owner did not buy her story and said that she had enough calling in last minute sick and she couldn’t run her business that way. Either she should show up for work now or never. The head of the waitresses saw the situation and called the owner. The owner did change her mind.
After working in the restaurant for several months full-time, I realized it was very different than I had known previously, especially compared to working in a small Chinese restaurant inside the kitchen at my own pace. Here, I had to work with all the chefs in the kitchen by giving them the orders and the bartender my customers’ drink orders. Outside, I had these four tables of people waiting for their drinks and their meals along with a whole restaurant of people. I had to work with the other waitresses busily coming in and out of the same door along the same route. I had to be careful not to mix up orders from different tables with other waitresses’ orders. All the time, I carried a heavy tray on my shoulders and rushed in and out without crashing into anyone. All this happened in a few, short rush hours. Every waitress was already stressed out enough to the boiling point without even any trouble from anyone.
     Every now and then, a wrong order, a chef’s mistake, or a difficult customer would drive the employees to the breaking point. In the kitchen, everyone was saying the worse phrases you could find. Outside, things were as usual, you couldn’t tell the difference. Only the troubled or unhappy customer got the most attention because we wanted him or her out of the restaurant as soon as possible no matter what it took. We hoped that they didn’t come back.
     I met one man who came and ordered a corned beef sandwich. He ate two-thirds of it and told me it was too tough. Then he ordered a cup of soup and he complained it was too salty. The owner came out to give him a free dessert on top of everything he had for free. He did leave me a one-dollar tip.
     It was different at the Chinese restaurant where I used to work one night per week. The owner told me that when they first opened the restaurant they did not know that there could be such people. One day, a man came in and ordered a hot seafood dish worth over $15. The owner told him that it was a hot dish but if he wanted, the chef could skip the hot sauce. He said that he knew that it was hot and loved hot food, the hotter, the better. When the dish came, he was happy. He ate 90% of this dinner then he called the waitress and said that the food was too hot and he was not going to pay for his dinner because he couldn’t finish the last few pieces on his plate. The owner was upset. “You could take it home with you but you will have to pay because I told you it was hot and you already finished your dinner. I would have let you go if you just started your dinner and said that it was too hot.” They started to argue. Finally, the owner said, “I am going to call the police because this is no different than shoplifting.” The police came and told the owner that the customer shouldn’t pay for the dinner if he was not happy with it. The owner was devastated. Later on she did learn.
     It was that kind of intense stress and fear about who was going to be your next customer. Is she or he going to order an expensive meal or just half of a sandwich and sit at your table all night drinking coffee and talking, then leave you a dollar tip? The longing for a customer who was a big spender and left big tips also brought stress because it looked like you were a beggar waiting for people to give you change. Every now and then, a group of young men came in for lunch in their work clothes. You could tell they had been working outside for minimum pay. Because of their peers, they practically emptied their pockets for the tip and they didn’t even count how much was there. It made me feel bad that they were the ones going broke the next day.
     After awhile, you felt the same things happen over and over. You went to the restaurant, prepared for the rush that sometimes didn’t come, then came home exhausted both emotionally and physically. I didn’t know how many times I came home at midnight and couldn’t sleep thinking about quitting the job the next day. But when the next day came, I was ready to work again. Personally, I didn’t like the tipping system at all. It did make the waitresses and waiters look bad, looked down upon too. I would prefer that the restaurant charge for service as part of the price for the meal then pay their employees a total. People think that wait persons work for tips and care how much you give to them. Yes, they do but not at the same moment when they serve you and others. They don’t have time to count, simply put the money in their pocket or sometimes they even forget to pick-up their tips. The quality of service is not dependent upon how much you tip. It depended upon how busy the restaurant was.
     People came to the restaurant not just to eat. They wanted more than that. They wanted to sit near others since they couldn’t do that very often, with strangers, friends or lovers, or family. They wanted to show others their joy of celebration, happiness, success, sadness, loneliness, and so on. I guessed it was part of human nature. There was this overweight woman who came in every Wednesday by herself. All the waitresses knew her because she ordered buffalo wings and a glass of water. Then she sat slowly chewing the hot chicken wings. Once she told me that it was part of her therapy. She had a failed marriage and loads of personal problems. Another time, she brought me a paper cutout of birds together, which she made at home. I told her that it was an excellent job and maybe she could have her own business someday. She was really pleased to hear that. I kept that little bird.
     The reality of running a business was very cruel and impersonal. Before I started to work there, one of the waitresses was sick with hepatitis. Her illness was reported on the radio, TV, and newspaper. That almost brought the business to a close. Suddenly, no customers came in. It took six months for them to regain their customers, but still not at the level it used to be.
     The owner tried to reconstruct the restaurant. The head of the waitresses had worked with the owner since she herself was a waitress years ago. She was well trusted and the key person to the owner’s success. She was over 60 now, slowing down a lot but she had the privilege of keeping all the upper level-smoking customers with more than ten tables. Usually each waitress had four tables. She didn’t want to give up any of her smoking tables since she also smoked. You could tell that she smoked so much and drank so much coffee to keep up with her customers. The owner knew it was time to let her go and implied so many times that her grandchildren needed her. She seemed to love working as a waitress.
     One day, the owner came in and told all of us that she had hired a new manager who would take care over management. She was going to stay around for two more weeks to let the new manager get comfortable with the restaurant, then she was going to South America for three months vacation. Not only did the new manager have experience in restaurant management, but had a psychology degree too.
     It turned out that this was a big mistake because no one liked this new manager. She followed everyone around trying to teach them to do their job. The head of waitresses was especially upset because she thought that this management job was lawfully hers when the owner was away on business or vacation. She had always been there for the owner’s personal and business trips for the last 20 years. The new manager seemed to have a reason here. The reason was it drove the head of waitresses crazy so she had to quit and you could tell that her stress was building up day after day, week after week. I never heard her say anything bad to the owner although I heard enough from other young waitresses. Now she started to complain, more and more, how she saved this restaurant every time it was in trouble, how she helped the owner every time she was in trouble, and how she treated her like her own sister. Now she was going to kick her out, out from the only possible good income she depended upon. She was over 60 and it was impossible to start over in a new restaurant from ground zero. She did not quit, but a few days before the three months ended, a few days before the owner came back, she ended up in a bad accident on the way to work which totaled her car and broke a few of her vertebrae. That ended her waitressing career.
     When the owner came back, every employee in the restaurant threatened to quit unless she let the new manager go. The business was not really that good under the new manager. She was driving everyone crazy. I think the owner realized what she had done and felt very badly about the head of waitresses. She did give her some financial help. Very soon, the owner hired a new elderly woman, who had retired from other restaurant work, inside of the kitchen to oversee everything. I could tell that she could not compare with the head of waitresses. She was typically two-faced. When the owner was around; she tried all the time to please her. When the owner was not around, she didn’t care about anything; the walk-in cooler door was always open, especially on a hot summer’s day. I even caught her a few times before closing. She and the chef cooked themselves a whole fish or something to take home with them. She even asked me once whether I wanted one to take home; I said, “no.”

30 reasons your waiter totally deserves a bigger tip

Trying to be Professional

I was working on the project for the last year without pay and my savings were running out. I could not really do anything without money. I needed a job or some kind of assistantship. There were no jobs in my field to which I could apply, not to mention competing with others. Since Anthony was not finished yet, I really wanted to stay to help him finish his Ph.D. because I knew how stressful it could be close to finishing.
     I applied for a number of jobs not directly related to my field. I was not surprised when I did not get them. In the meanwhile, my pathology professor tried to convince me to work for him in the summer as a student while considering pursuing a Ph.D. The work he wanted me to do was sectioning tree roots in the lab to prepare the tissues for electron microscopy. He had a contract from somewhere in the Midwest. I saw that his sectioning machine was so old that even the one that I used in China was better. In fact, he could not even section a sample thin enough by using that machine. “This is like cooking, you know. You will do a better job sectioning them since Chinese are good with a knife,” he said. “I could only pay you $5 per hour due to funding limitations. I understand that you have your Masters degree now. When our new proposal is submitted for funding, I will have money to pay you more.” I told him that if I had not found anything by the summer then I would do this job for him, but if I found another job then he would have to find someone else. He said that he understood.
     Then, I saw this ad in the paper for a job at the medical school. They wanted a full-time histologist. Basically, it was the same thing that I was going to do for my professor in the summer. The difference was this one dealt with animal tissues and the other with plant tissues. One used wax to embed the tissues while the other used ice. The tissues were mounted on a slide for further observations by microscope or electron microscope. One of my officemates could not find a job anywhere after completing his master’s; then, he did find a job with full benefits including vacation time in the medical school. So I applied and I was one of two interviewed. My interview went very well and the professor showed me his lab and introduced me to others as if I had already been hired. He gave me his own office number and asked me call him anytime if I had a question. He was interested that my pathology professor was working with plants so I gave him my professor’s number and asked him to call him. I did not know that was going to be the biggest mistake.
     The next day before I even started to tell my professor about the interview, he said, “Hi, Ying, you really know more people than I do. This professor at the medical school called yesterday afternoon. Another pathology professor I didn’t know. He was so weird and asked me all those weird questions like do I know the difference between plant and animal tissues. How the … do I know the difference? I am a plant pathologist. I only study plant disease. Actually plant viruses.” I started getting nervous and said, “Of course you know the basic difference is that animal cells don’t have cell walls or chlorophyll for photosynthesis—that’s biology 101.” “Oh, yeah, yeah. He asked me about your experience with sectioning and wax embedding. I told him that I don’t use wax and I don’t know what you did in China. But he sounded like he was going to hire you. He sure liked you. Oh, who is going to do the ice sectioning for me? I cannot do it and all the students are gone for the summer.” “I don’t think he is going to hire me after he talked with you,” I said with a chilly feeling at the bottom of my heart. “Oh, I bet they have a lot of fancy things there,” he said. “Yes, he showed me around his lab. He has one full-time technician there already. Everything is so new and you could tell they have funding. He has four paraffin sectioning machines and also an ice-sectioning machine that they are not using right now. They should let you have it. It is a much newer model.” “Oh, maybe, I could use his better ice sectioning machine for you on the weekend,” I continued. “That would be nice.” He laughed.
     A month passed and still I had not heard anything from the professor at the medical school. So, I called him since he gave me his office phone number before I left. He told me more than once to call him directly if I had any questions, anytime. He answered the phone. I asked him how was the progress on the position for which I had applied. He answered me very impatiently and coldly, “Oh, I don’t know, you have to call the personnel office.” Then I called the personnel office. They told me that they had hired someone else. It was all so clear to me that I had to go back to work for my professor at $5 per hour instead. Now I understood more why Mark had to leave without his degree, after three years of study and research with him.
     I was losing my options. One thing was for sure that I would not pursue my Ph.D. under him. For my ash wood samples, I had collected more than 1000 tree cores from a total of 500 trees from five states in the Northeast. It was such a waste of the samples just to measure them and go to all that trouble for nothing else. I had wood science for my undergraduate study and I knew the wood. I wondered whether the department of wood science could do anything with my wood samples, since the wood is for baseball bat. Maybe I could do something before Anthony finished since I didn’t have to go out to collect cores, saving a lot of time. Maybe the professor there would be interested in doing a study with my wood samples. I could finish another MS degree there in two or three years since I wouldn’t have to start another long, tiring field project.
     I made an appointment with a professor in the wood science department, also the director of a wood research institute. I also brought along my thesis and a sample of wood. I told him my thoughts and asked him what the possibilities were. I also told him the reason I wanted to do this in two or three years. He seemed delighted and said that he could help me initiate a little project depending upon my abilities. I could get a Masters or Ph.D. in wood science. I was delighted too. I told him that I wanted to know the possibilities before I discussed it with my former professor to permit me to use my wood samples for another project. He agreed to call my professor and to discuss possible collaboration.
     Obviously, he reached my professor before I could. When I talked to my professor the next day, he said, “What is going on? A professor from wood science and engineering called me about your possibly pursuing another degree. I told him that he must have mixed you up with someone else since you didn’t want to pursue another degree. You wanted to find a real job. You were going to work for me this summer and our project was not yet done. What are you doing meeting with a wood science professor in our college? I didn’t even know him in person except for speaking with him on the phone.” I just said, “I thought that I could find a project to finish another degree without more field work that took most of my time and energy. I had boxes and boxes of wood cores. I thought we could do something together.” He said, “Oh, I know how hard it was in the field for you especially drilling those cores. You know how to be a pathologist. Just like cooking in your kitchen. Look around my lab. You don’t need that much field work,” So much for an idea. The next thing you know when I went for my appointment with the other professor, he said that he cancelled it because we didn’t have anything to talk about.
     I did keep my promise, working for him part-time at $5/hr, only I would do it whenever I was free. I did not want to see him again. Then, I started working in a German restaurant for an average $10/hr.

Not Done Yet, Ready to Pursue Ph.D

Finally, I had finished my Masters. I was so tired, and I needed a long break. I told my professor and he said, “yes, you do.” “Take a break and wait until your paper is published. We could write another research proposal and get more research funding. You could use that for your Ph.D.” I said, “Oh, I don’t want to go through all that again. I am too old. I used to tell myself that I would stop studying as a student when I reached 30 years old. Suppose my paper was published, then we wrote a research proposal. We wouldn’t know for sure that it would be accepted and that the money would come. I will look for a job and wait for Anthony to finish his Ph.D. We will start a family because he will be finished soon. I will let you and the younger ones fight.” “Don’t say that, Ying, let’s talk about it after your break. It will not be as difficult as before plus you don’t need to go out to collect samples anymore. I will hire lab technicians and undergraduates to do all the difficult manual work for you. You and I will have a very good relationship.”
     My paper was published in “Plant Disease” in less than three months after my defense. Porter’s paper was also published in the same issue of the journal as “site descriptions” as my pathology professor put it. He implied that they would never publish it alone without my paper. He tried to publish in some other journal a year before but his paper was rejected. I joked with my professor that he had to wait for me after all. However, my former professor said that he would count how many people asked for which reprints, Porter’s paper or mine. I told them that I was finished, that I didn’t care. The last I heard, my paper out competed Porter’s in reprint requests.
     I did feel the rewards of my work from the high remarks from other professors in other universities. My professor told me one of them from Cornell even suggested highlighting my paper as the feature article of that issue. A couple of years later, they did receive funding for further research and Porter became a postdoctoral associate on the project. New graduate students told me that their professors asked them to read my paper and thesis first because it was the cornerstone of the project. My work was an important step for later research in that area.

Preparing for My Defense

Finally, my professor helped set up a date for me to defend my thesis for sometime in December 1989. I had been focused on writing and editing my thesis in the fall, using my own savings since I had to pay one credit to be a student, the project funding ran out in the summer.
     A week before my defense, my professor said that I needed to do more work to get more results. I was shocked. I was preparing to defend my Masters. He said that we could postpone the defense until the following year. I said, “I know that there are always more results if we study more. There is no end to research. But I want to finish my master’s degree first. Then, I could do more work if you want. I think that I have done enough for my master’s degree.” He said, “I decide how much is enough for your master’s degree.” I said, “Yes, you and my committee.” He said, “But I decide when we are ready to show your thesis to the committee.” I said, “when do you expect me to be ready? I am working all the time on this thesis including weekends and holidays plus there is no more money. I cannot work for free forever. I have been working on the project for three and a half years and you paid me $7500 for not even a full year. Why did you let Porter graduate in two years so he could continue for his Ph.D.? It is not fair.”
     Desperately, I asked my co-professor for his advice concerning my options. He said, “It’s probably best for you two to calm down. Let me help you complete your last stage of preparation for this degree since I have been involved in the project since the beginning with you. Plus, your professor is too young and has too many students. It is hard for him to give everyone advice. You could get all my attention. I will talk with the chairman and dean first. Then I will talk to your professor and do all the necessary paperwork for a smooth transfer. Meanwhile, why don’t you try to work on your professor’s suggestion? He is still going to be on your committee even though not as your major professor. If he votes “no” at your defense then you fail. You only need one person to vote “no” and you fail. I know that both of you are emotional.” Finally, I said, “I am not sure it is a good idea to change my major professor at this stage, not to mention he could still vote no, and not to mention my focus would change too since you are a pathologist.”
     The next day, my professor stormed into my office. He said, “Ying could you please take all your files off of my computer and return your key as soon as possible. I need the space on the computer for my students.” I was shocked that my co-professor had already went ahead without a yes from me. “You mean you don’t want all the original data and results. That’s your copy. All my data were stored on my own disks. But if you don’t want them, I will delete them all.” He said, “Yes, do it.” I was upset. I went to his office and deleted all of my files in just one second. Three years of my work were gone from his computer. I felt very good because I felt like I deleted all of the unpleasant past. Later on, I told my co-professor, who was now my major professor, what had happened. I was worried that he didn’t make the transition smooth and he would not allow me to pass my defense. He said, “I don’t believe it. What he asked you to do! And you did it. What if I need to use some of your data later on after you graduate?” “Well, you just have to go back to the mainframe and transfer them again,” I said. He shook his head, cursed, and said, “I do not know how to transfer data. I cannot believe he is so childish. He was fine when I talked with him yesterday. He agreed that he had too many students anyway.” I suddenly realized that I was in more trouble than before.
     Since my original professor was an ecologist and my co-professor was a pathologist, they always ended up arguing with each other. Now my professor was the pathologist and he wanted me to shape my work from a pathology point of view to make up for Mark who left. One thing that I learned was that he wanted me to do as much as my former professor did, just with a different approach. He was older and wiser and I actually felt sorry about my former professor. I ended up doing, if not more, the same amount of additional work, which meant wrapping up the whole project from everyone’s perspective. There was no project money so I had to pay for one more credit tuition to keep my student status. Moreover, since I was an international student I had to pay more and find a excuse to explain why I could not finish a master’s degree in three years while most other Chinese in other fields only needed one or two years to finish. I moved into Anthony’s apartment so I could save my little money. I finally set my defense date for February 1990, fourth years after I started.
     A few days before my defense I had a horrible dream that my former professor asked me all very tough questions and failed me in a most humiliating way. But for my real defense, I was ready to fight. I was prepared and I was very calm. At 9 AM sharp, I first gave a seminar to everyone who was interested in listening, the other professors and graduate students. It was a large crowd even though there was a snowstorm the night before. At the last minute, switching a professor was not a common thing to do in college even for an American student and I was a poor little Chinese girl. Thirty percent of the graduate students could not complete their degrees for various reasons. For my defense seminar, every seat was taken.
     After the seminar, I defended my thesis before my committee. It went very well and I was surprised that my former professor did not ask me any tough questions at all. He did ask one very interesting question: How did I feel after working in both ecology and pathology fields (two professors)? I stated my true observations. Overall, ecology was more of a big picture approach; relationships, the attention was on finding a way to sample to represent a whole population or several populations. We were looking for relationships, successions at the broad scale. Therefore, statistics, modeling, and simulations were very important. Ecology was a tool for almost every problem. Pathology was mostly at a small or micro-scale. Pathologists were looking for disease. For example, my professor was looking for an unknown virus mycoplasma-like organism (or MLO). He, like the professor in his field often drove around looking for diseased trees. Then, they took samples back to the lab determined to find the cause of disease, the pathogen. They were very much focused upon individuals and details.
     The good thing about this project was that ecology and pathology worked together. We designed the best sampling technique for the northern hardwood forest. The factors included both natural and abandoned agricultural land used by early settlers, the age of populations through forest succession, climatic factors, roadside winter salt effects, other artificial effects, etc. I had the opportunity to incorporate Mark’s pathological lab results and Porter’s detailed site descriptions and my yearly tree ring growth to find out that our trees were dying mostly between the ages of 30–40 years in their pure forests. But in older forests (50–80 years old), this tree was as healthy and strong as could be; however, it only made up three to four percent of the species. Others tree species like maple, oak, etc. together made up the healthy Northern Hardwood Forest. The MLO virus was one of many factors pushing the forest to change its composition and reach the stage of a healthy mature forest. From my forestry management experience, we could selectively cut those suppressed or sick trees to open room for other species. This would accelerate the process of thinning without spreading more MLO in the forest.
     After that, I went out in the hallway to wait for the results. Anthony was there all the time to support me. About 15 minutes or so later, I was invited into the room again. The chairman proudly announced that I passed the defense and everyone shook my hand to congratulate me. My former professor too, came over and shook my hand, “Ying, well done. Congratulations.” I said, “do you want to know what I dreamed last night. I dreamed that you failed me.” He said, “Me! No, how could I fail you. I knew your good work all along,” he said.
     One last surprise was in store for the cover page of my thesis, which listed a number of people including the chairman of the department. I asked Porter for a copy of his cover page so that I could copy his format since he had finished thesis writing and defending almost two years ago. I was surprised when our chairman returned my thesis without his signature. He said that he refused to sign because I typed “chairperson” instead of “chairman.” He was not just a person. He was specifically a “man.” I didn’t even pay any attention when I copied Porter’s format. So I asked Porter, why he used “chairperson” and still obtained his signature. He said that the chairman was on sabbatical leave at the time and another professor was acting chairman. I changed the word and sent it back. This time, I got the chairman’s signature. Chairman translated in Chinese is Zhuxi (主席) which means “head seat.” The word is neutral. It could be used for a man or a woman. The same was true with any other positions in China, neutral terms, although most of the time, men held those positions. Mister translated in Chinese is Xiansen (先生) which means “student head,” sometimes, we used the same word for a woman. My department chair was a woman in college. People called her Mister just like a man in the same position. The word "policeman" in Chinese is Jin Cha (警察), a neutral term, while the word Jin (警)means alert.  So for the word Jin, two Chinese words are combined, "respect" on top of "speech." Finally, Cha (察) means to observe. If I was the Chairman, I would not ask my student to change the word just because I was a man. Its meaning of leadership is far more important than the name.

Engagement

Anthony and I went to nearby Clark Reservation for a walk almost every weekend. Every now and then, other graduate students would join us. My major Professor asked me once whether I was going out with Anthony. I told him, yes, we going out for a walk on the weekend. We were good friends since he came in 1987, not dating friends.
     We went to a conference hosted by the Rochester Academy of Sciences. Most graduate students decided to drive there and back each day since it was about a two-hour drive and it was a two-day meeting. Anthony offered that three Chinese students could stay in his parents’ house overnight and also would give us a ride to and from the meetings, since we didn’t have a car or money to stay in a hotel.
     We had a very nice meeting. I dressed up in my traditional Chinese silk dress that was a bit too much because it stood out and I attracted too much attention. It was the first time for me to attend this kind of professional meeting. The next time, I would dress like everyone else. Anthony’s mom cooked a very nice dinner for us even though Anthony had already guessed the menu on the way home. Yuli and I shared one of the bedrooms at their house during our stay.
     I had strangest dream that night. I dreamed that somehow I had dinner with Anthony’s family in the kitchen, which we never did. We actually had dinner in the dining room the previous evening. I saw a baby nearby our table crying so I picked up the baby so he would stop crying. It was a strange feeling because I did not know whose baby this was. I told Yuli about my dream. She told me that it might be my destiny. I laughed. We were just friends. We did not have anything beyond that. But my dream did awaken me to consider Anthony seriously. 
      I returned Anthony’s help by inviting him for dinner at Kathryn’s house. It was an eye opener for him since I cooked so many kinds of food he did not know and had never tried before, especially a number of vegetables. He tried everything and said "interesting." He was very nice to Kathryn, not like when Porter and Mark came to pick me up for our field trips. They made a "not so nice" remark. Kathryn and my friends Marjorie and Lucille were fond of Anthony too. It is important to see how good a person is by watching how he treats others especially those who are not so important in our society, or when there are no returns for being nice to someone. That was the Chinese teaching with which I grew up.
     He is two years younger than me, just like my dad two years younger than my mom.  I was born in 1961 and he was born 1963.  My mom just happened to be two years older than my dad.  She was born in 1931 and my dad was born 1933.  Even more interesting later I delivered my first child in 1991 last one 1998.  My mom delivered me 1961 and my youngest sister 1968.
          Just before Thanksgiving in 1989, we became engaged to be married. I was still a virgin. He later told me that he was a virgin too. Anthony took me to the store and let me choose my diamond ring. We showed my ring to Anthony’s parents at Thanksgiving. It was not "love at first sight" or a "dream romance." It was every day studying and working together. I guess that I finally learned that I needed someone to care about me more and share everyday living. I have also grown to appreciate gardens instead of cut flowers. I told Anthony not to buy me fresh flowers if he could not give me a garden. We have visited many gardens since he could not afford to give me one and he never brought me flowers.
     He  did write to my parents first, asking for their permission to marry me. My parents did ask me "why him"? and was there any Chinese boy I could consider first? They worried about me one day ending up alone since all they knew about Americans was from the movies. Love like lighting strikes comes and goes so fast. Marriage was not taken seriously in the US. I told them I tried Chinese boys and that did not work. My parents did respect my choice but only worried that they could not communicate with their son-in-law and grandchildren.

The Only One Left in the Project Without Money

Luckily Porter finished his master’s degree in two and a half years even before Mark and I finished our lab work. Then, he joined another project for his Ph.D. I was the only student left on the project since Mark quit. The only thing I did not expect was the money also ran out. I actually used all their data together with mine for the analyses. It did help me to get more interesting results. Very soon, I finished my thesis draft. My major professor was away at the time so I sent it to him in the mail and one to my co-professor. A model of the tree decline that I put together to explain our results shocked my professor so much that he could not believe that I had come up with it. He actually called the college and asked my co-professor on the phone whether it was his idea.
   Overall, he was happy with my thesis although there were grammatical errors, but Anthony had already edited for me before I gave it to him. There was one error about which I was right. The tool I used to sand my sample wood is called a “plane.” He disagreed. So, he asked me to change it to “plan.” I did not; instead, I wrote beside the word he circled, “please look for the word in the dictionary.” The next time, he crossed out my word again and said he did look in the dictionary, and that it was spelled “plan” without an “e.” Finally, I made a special trip downstairs to his office and asked him what kind of dictionary he used. He said, “I am sure I was right.” Then he turned around while still sat in his chair and took a Webster’s Dictionary from his shelf. “Plane” is a tool that carpenters use and there was a picture that showed what one looked like. Then he said, “Well, I did look up the word in the dictionary at home. Maybe my dictionary at home is too old.” I left his office without a word.
     Later, my professor wanted me to change the axis on two of my figures. He used the red marker as usual and told me that these were wrong. I told him that I would check it. I found nothing wrong in using the two figures to explain my point of view; of course, it was also all right to change it a little. But his big red marker “wrong” made it difficult. I went downstairs to his office and showed him the sources for the style of my figures, meaning that there was nothing wrong here. Again he refuse to accept that. I had no choice but change it to the way he wanted

Mark quit

One weekend when I went to do my office work, I noticed that Mark’s desk and shelf were all cleaned and empty. There was only one small box of books and papers with his professor’s name written on it. I thought that he had moved to a new office. The next day, I realized that he quit his graduate studies without telling anyone. I felt very sorry for him because I had the same thought a lot of times. He was a very nice guy with very close Florida ties; every time he said something, he would say “Back to Florida.” He was younger than Porter and me. He was a very smart guy with good grades. He was a little slow in the field because he was big and heavy plus wore glasses. Porter was the opposite; he did not have excellent grades but was good with his hands. Because he had the lowest GRE scores, our department chairman did not want to accept him at first.  My professor insisted on accepting him since they were from the same college and they were like real brothers.
     I felt that we were so close to finishing. It was the third year of our studies; it was too close to quit. But Mark did; he got a job in town. A few months later, he came to our office for a visit. I told him that I was surprised that he quit. I was the one who was supposed to quit. His professor was good. He always had an assistant in the lab to help him and after all, he found time to sit in the office to read a novel or newspaper. I never even heard any disagreements between them and I was shocked that he just got up and left.  Oh well, I was not in the position to judge him.
     Not long after, he came to visit our office again; he and his friend were talking about how to get back at their professors, that is, in their imaginations or dreams. It was quiet fun to listen to how many bad tricks they could think of. They had to hate their professor really bad or maybe it was their own way to get out their frustrations. He returned to a different department a year later, took another year to finish his Masters degree with a different professor and later found a job in New England.