• At JFK en route PHX. Longest security line I've been ever! But it includes middleaged couple in matching lemon yellow sweaters so all is ok. #
  • JetBlue terminal at JFK, I applaud you for playing "I've got a crush on you" by the Jets. I haven't heard this song since, like, 5th grade! #
  • Arizona, you and your desertness always amaze me. #

Powered by Twitter Tools

  • I wrote a testimonial about what Cooper Union means to me. http://t.co/xlIrzatD I like it, I hope you do too! #

Powered by Twitter Tools

Edited to add archive text!:

(CE ‘99) I confess in full that I only knew two things about Cooper Union when I applied: that it was free, and that it was hard to get into. I knew only slightly more when I was accepted: that the Engineering Building in the East Village looked like construction I’d made once from my grandmothers dusty old erector set when I was a kid. I don’t have a stirring “when found out I was accepted” remembrance. It turns out that I didn’t realize what Cooper Union was until I had been there for a while, and maybe not even until after I graduated.

I went to an upper middle class high school where I succeeded without doing much work. I was happy to take home my A- and B+ grades — and I took them home to boxes of cereal eaten in front of black and white movies shown on AMC, not hours of homework or studying for tests. When I applied to colleges I decided that even though my father volunteered to pay the other application fees – to ivy leagues, to state schools, and to solid well known engineering schools – I would pay the $20 fee for the Cooper Union application from my saved earnings from my short stint as a telemarketer. Applying to Cooper Union was really just a big experiment, and I didn’t think it was fair to ask my dad to pay for that. I didn’t know if I’d get in, I just wanted to TRY. I wanted to see if I had “it.” What “it” was, though, I couldn’t precisely tell you – but it had something to do with the specialness only around 13% of its accepted applicants would have in 1995.

I was, like many of my Cooper classmates, near the top of my high school class. I wanted to be an engineer because it sounded like a hands-on way to use my aptitude for maths and sciences. I liked that not many women were engineers and I could keep breaking down that barrier for younger women to follow. As an engineer, I was sure that the problems I faced professionally would change frequently, and I would stay engaged and interested in my job. It seemed like a good idea. But when I applied to colleges, I didn’t know where to go, or even exactly what to study. With logic only a 17 year old can get away with, I thought I would be rejected from some of these colleges and that would help me make my choice.

The acceptance letter to Cooper Union almost finalized my college decision. “How could I say no?” I would romantically tell my family and friends. But in all honesty, we were very practical about it: Dad and I compared financial aid packages and projected the cost of living in New York City. FAFSA forms were new to us and we were solidly in that band of comfortable-but-without-any-extra-cash-for-things-like-college middle class that doesn’t get much of a break on college tuitions. Despite that, and despite the promise of free tuition, Cooper Union very nearly broke even financially with my other top engineering school choices. Even state schools were not much cheaper than the Free Cooper Union. All that aside, though, I chose Cooper Union, and I chose NYC.

The first time my (divorced) parents and I went to Cooper Union it was for an Accepted Students (and Parents) Orientation. I think we took the train down from upstate NY and rode the subway to Astor Place. My mom was unsteady on her feet in the subway cars. She told strangers nearby that she couldn’t believe how naturally I navigated transit. Could they believe it? When I moved to NYC to start classes she told me of an older woman she’d met in Alcoholics Anonymous who had been thrown out of McSorleys for the simple gaucheness of being a woman in the 70s. She gave me a pair of small diamond earrings so I would have some liquid assets.  You know, just in case.

Even after I arrived at Cooper Union, I still didn’t know what that special “it” was. I worked hard with my classmates – but they reminded me of my classmates from my above-average high school, and the classrooms were shabbier than the ones I had just come from. If anything Cooper Union gave me a huge shot of social confidence – I was, probably, one of the coolest nerds in an engineering school of nerds. At least, I felt like I was, and almost everyone who attends Cooper Union seems to be abnormally nice and didn’t disabuse me of this feeling (and I, also being abnormally nice, didn’t make a big deal of my incredible coolness). I learned to talk to boys – something I recall doing very little of in high school. I was an actor and producer for the Dramatic Society. I put on rock jams and acoustic nights with Pro Musica. I went to piles of classes and took more than my required credits in the school of humanities. I learned how to study, reluctantly, and started to understand the merit of keeping up on homework assignments. I flirted with fencing but eventually joined the tae kwon do club, achieving my first degree black belt before graduation. I lived on the cheap, subsisting for most of my time at Cooper on an average of $5 a day for food and necessities.

By now I understand that Cooper Union is the most special place I have ever been. Cooper Union taught me I can do anything I put my mind to. It took that aimless “shoot for the stars” feeling that made me apply and refined it, put a sharper point on it. When I left Cooper Union I said things like “It may have been free but it sure wasn’t cheap” and “I can rest when I’m dead.” I worked harder at Cooper Union than I have ever worked in my life. When I graduated not only did I get to sing the National Anthem before my classmates and their proud parents, but I felt like I had won a four year academic marathon. I Won Cooper Union.

I’ve heard many times the story of Peter Cooper and the transatlantic cable – how he lost the cable and his investors money several times and kept trying – like a mad scientist – to finish the job. He eventually did just that – but it took all of his resources, the despair of his peers, and himself actually standing on a ship in the cold Atlantic Ocean as he devised on the spot a tool or machine that would catch up the lost cable and save the day.

Peter Cooper believed in the scientific method – he tried and he tried again. He didn’t believe that his mind had any boundaries. His most grand experiment is Cooper Union – and it’s been through several iterations and refinements as well. The iteration I enjoyed in the late 90s was filled with non-competitive and collaborative learning. My education seemed to grow organically and without much input from the professors, and it was beautiful. I learned at Cooper Union that I shouldn’t be afraid of other people, because at our very core, we want our friends and colleagues to succeed. Peter Cooper introduced me to the very American concept of Abundance – that we could all succeed, and that there is abundant resource and innovation such that we can all succeed together, and without requiring the failure of another.

As Peter Cooper himself said in his Letter to the Trustees: “I desire, by all that I can say and by all that I can do, to awaken the minds of the rising generation an undying thirst for knowledge and virtue, in order that they may be able, by wise and honorable measures, to preserve the liberties we enjoy.”

I continue to learn more about how Cooper Union is special. It lives in the minds and hearts of those you least expect – not Artists, Architects, and Engineers — it’s actually hit or miss if those in the professional field you’ve studied will recognize the name. To this day the best compliment I’ve gotten on my choice of schools was from a former NYFD Officer, once chief of a busy and famous station in the South Bronx. He said to me in his thick Long Island accent: “You went to Cooper Union? You must be some kinda fuckin’ genius!” I met a distant cousin of a friend of mine at her Christmas party this year and she told me about how her husband who had died unfortunately young attended Cooper Union, and it changed his life. Most people will not know what Cooper Union is, but the ones who do almost always have a story of how Cooper Union has touched their lives. This speaks directly to Peter Cooper and his gift to the world of abundance.

Even though Cooper Union taught me many things about myself – it taught me to fake it ‘till I make it; success and humility; to work harder than ever before and the marvelous rewards for using my body and mind to their fullest potential; not to fear failure, but to persevere through it and to try again – attending Cooper Union also taught me a generosity in action towards my fellow human beings that I am grateful to have during these complicated social and political times. And above all, Cooper Union taught me the grace of overarching gratitude.

Karina Tipton (CE’99) is a practicing environmental engineer with an emphasis on sustainability and remediation. She lives in Montgomery NY with her partner and two stepboys, enjoys crafting, motorcycling, and preserving food, and has actively volunteered with the Cooper Union Alumni Association since 2006.

Powered by Twitter Tools

Powered by Twitter Tools

  • y'all, it's me! “@helmetorheels: Good morning friends! NEW: Profile of a Female Motorcyclist: Meet Kari http://t.co/IRl7pxHU” thank you! #

Powered by Twitter Tools

This is a post that I am throwing up quickly because I’m featured on the internets.

So, you know sometimes how you are kind of featured in an interview? on the internet? [[Like, over here at Helmet or Heels?]] And you realize that you haven’t put up much original content in the last few weeks? And on top of that your interview is read by a large community of motorcyclists, and the most recent posts in your blog are not about motorcycling?

Yeah, so when that happens, you know how sometimes you feel like you need to put up some new and original motorcycling content right away?

Yesterday I rode my motorcycle over to a new shop to get a spring tune-up. It’s kind of hilarious, because I’ve already put over 1,500 miles on the bike. it’s been a mild spring – just look at these bugs:

photo

It’s really hard to quit riding your motorcycle all the time for something pesky like regular service.

But this weekend we got a lovely nor’easter (thankfully no snow in our neck of the woods) and we do plan a big motorcycle trip starting in mid-May, so I thought it would be a nice to have a good shake down. The bike is at 16,500 – which, WOW, considering I got it a couple of years ago with just about 3,000 miles on it – and it needs a pretty major service. Things like checking valve clearance. So off she goes and hopefully she’ll come back happy and purring and I won’t have any problems with this new shop at all.

  • Mary Blade, standing at blackboard. I love love love her. http://t.co/O2xefAJX #
  • We are having a spring nor'easter and I am suddenly even more super glad that Ben cut down our rotten tree out back. http://t.co/JXb8InYB #

Powered by Twitter Tools

  • After my couch-laying last night I fell asleep at, like, 9pm! And slept through until 515! I am finally feeling better. Aaah. #

Powered by Twitter Tools

  • Tonight I laid on couch and read twitter while @mikegrundy fed temporary kitty grass from the yard, fed me samoas, and washed the kitchen. #

Powered by Twitter Tools

  • woke up feeling extra crummy and with full schedule and strong desire to motorcycle to work. annoying illness. #

Powered by Twitter Tools

  • RT @neiltyson "Venus's 900deg air would cook a 16in pepperoni pizza in 9sec & vaporize you. RunawayGreenhouse: Good for pizza. Bad for life" in reply to neiltyson #

Powered by Twitter Tools

Powered by Twitter Tools

  • Fairly sure I'm the only one who watches the weather channel at the gym. #
  • “@FriendsofCooper: 2nd-ever Community Summit! Keep Cooper Free, Keep Cooper Wild http://t.co/eePRy8KY via @FriendsofCooper” #
  • I found a chiropractor and an acupuncturist super close to my house and amazingly good. I feel like a new pony when I leave their office! #

Powered by Twitter Tools

Powered by Twitter Tools

  • Went to the gym for a run for the first time since, like, October. It was way not as bad as I was afraid it would be. #newleafturnedover #
  • frustrated using runkeeper/dailymile. Any reviews/users of runmeter gps for the iphone? it syncs w daily mile! http://t.co/a4VtACcN #
  • Feeling immensely stressed over needing to clean whole house top to bottom for weekend. @mikegrundy is a champ and rolling up sleeves. #
  • We cleaned attic, cleared out hallway, negotiated cease fire w blue room (black hole of cluttery junk) and nearly finished w library. PHEW. #

Powered by Twitter Tools

  • Oh geez, this is Eights' west coast twinsie! http://t.co/u9p9yHTq #
  • I think I'll go to the gym for a run tomorrow. It's either that or stop eating leftover easter candy. #adultdecisions #
  • “RT @nonpromqueen: "NO SORRY, SANTORUM, YOU MUST CARRY YOUR DEAD PRESIDENTIAL CAMPAIGN TO FULL TERM."” #

Powered by Twitter Tools

  • Remember that time I woke up at 430 AM because the wind sounded like a freight train coming up our driveway? #lastnight #
  • Ashley Judd, I heart you and your awesome use of "feminist" and "heteronormative" http://t.co/eRp85F0H #

Powered by Twitter Tools

How much parenting does a steppers DO, anyway?

Y’all, it’s NICE to read about insta-families. This post from a young soon-to-be stepmom totally made my morning – you know, there are a lot of mommy blogs. There are a a lot of stepmonster blogs. But there’s not a lot of blogs of happy blended families. It’s almost like everyone buys that terrible line “you don’t know true love until you have your own baby.” As both a stepchild and a stepparent, I reject this entirely. (Is it any wonder that I read a bunch of adoptive parent blogs? I mean, they know it’s possible to love another persons biological kid.)

After I met the kids a whole 3 1/2 years ago, I still had another six months to go before moving in. At that time Mike was working at home and able to manage most of the stuff for the kids. I was dealing with regular working-outside-of-the-area issues, like how do I manage to get to a third grade recorder concert when it’s at TWELVE NOON?! We did ok. I managed to make it to important things and we made it an important ritual to eat dinner together at the table when we have the kids over. and no bathroom talk allowed while eating.

IMG_2037

In general, though, Mike had tried to shield me from the general parenting responsibilities for a long time – partly because he hates that dads get such a bad reputation as actual full-time PARENTS. I wonder if it was also partly that he didn’t want to put too much responsibility on me in case I didn’t want it after all. It was resolved through both discussion and necessity: we had a couple of conversations where I was insisting I wanted to help him with the boys more so we could have better times together as a family. Plus, as the kids got older and had more friends-activities to do that were sometimes in conflict,  it was natural for me to start to bring them to birthday parties, help them with homework, and take them to scouts (or staying home with the littler one on scouts nights).

Two years ago Mike’s schedule changed from working at home to working in an office two hours away from our home. I HAD to pitch in more, and he HAD to let me. We wouldn’t have been able to spend so much time with the boys otherwise. And that was what was important: that we continue to build our insta-family, and that we make sure we were supporting the boys.

The first month at Mike’s new job he got a free pass: he was a wreck! He was exhausted and his schedule was a disaster scene. It was trial by fire for me. I ended up pitching in much more than I had previously – with his new four-hour-a-day commute, I was working in my office (which is 45min away from our home), picking up dinner stuff during the day, leaving early and driving home to get the kids from after-school, making dinner, and hopefully getting it on the table by the time Mike got home after HIS dash home from work. Then in the mornings I would drop the boys off at their Mom’s house so they could catch the bus to school.

After that first month *I* was a wreck and I told Mike we had to figure this out more equally – and he started to work from home one day a week so he could wrangle the kids and the dinner half the time.

IMG_1984

True story: I still don’t know how to respond when people say “well, he should do that because they’re HIS kids, not yours.” Well, yes. That is totally  biologically true. But when I committed to partner up with my sweetheart I was also partnering up with his kids. If we aren’t acting as a team we aren’t getting things done the right way. If we are wasting time keeping track of who is responsible for what and letting each other get overwhelmed and overloaded, we don’t have extra time for fun and fist bumps and motorcycling and smooching.

So now the general way things work is this: I pick the boys up and work with them on dinner on half of the nights we have them. Homework is fair game for whichever grown-up is around to help. Mike reads the bedtime story, but we both tuck in and kiss. If Mike is away I read the story too – you really CAN’T miss a bedtime story. Wake-ups are also about half time. (Honestly though, Mike is preferred, because he does a really hilarious grouchy Elmo puppet-routine and I am incorrigibly cheerful in the mornings.)

Last week Mike started a new job so I managed morning wake-ups, breakfast, and off-to-schools on the two mornings they woke at our house plus pickups after school when they were coming over. We don’t know how our roles and responsibilities will shake down as he gets used to his new employer – hopefully he’ll be able to schedule a work-at-home day on the Wednesdays we’ve always got the kids, but it’s still early steps.

IMG_2004

The key is, though: it all kind of *works.* It works for us and it works for the kids. This weekend I went with Twelve to his scout candy sale. It wasn’t even our weekend with the kids, but their mom had a bunch of errands and Mike had volunteer fire department stuff to do, so I stood around for two hours while Twelve sold candy bars at a local sporting goods store. Then we had Taco Bell together and I dropped him off again at his mom’s. Last week Twelve and I went through a paragraph-by-paragraph revision of his paper on the Erie Canal (one of my secret areas of expertise, to his chagrin). Mike was sitting right there, but he asked me to do it because he knows one of my secret super powers is “sharing information with others in a written format.”

I’m thankful that we’re pulling together as a team, that we’re organizing our schedules and we’re making fun family time a priority over the whole “whose responsibility is it” game. I want to have a family with these two little dudes and their dad, and I’m thankful that everyone else is working with me to make this happen. Most importantly, I want these little dudes to know that I love them very much, that they are important to me, and that they can count on me to support them.

Powered by Twitter Tools

  • Hard to get up on a Fri. Harder still when a sweet temporary kitty lies down next to your pillow and starts purring. http://t.co/6xMar8T5 #

Powered by Twitter Tools