Tabling

And no, I don't mean the yoga kind of tabling.

I spent the majority of my time "in the office" today out in Vendors Row tabling. I was selling shirts. I was freezing my toes off. I was having fun.

Design courtesy of the AS Publicity Center

See, I work in this funny little office called the SAC which stands for the Sexual Awareness Center (one of the most appropriate acronyms I've ever heard for an office). It's part of the Associated Students of Western Washington University, specifically the department called the Resource and Outreach Programs.

As a ROP office, we're expected to both provide resources and programming, so we have everything from a resource library and ever-growing list of community and campus organizations dedicated to providing access to pretty much everything relating to sex, sexuality and making healthy sexual decisions, to a big bin full of quite the variety of assorted safer sex supplies. In addition to this, we plan events throughout the quarter.

It's kind of an awesome job. (If you're interested in taking my job, or a related one next school year, applications open here on Saturday, March 3). Seriously, I get paid to talk about sex and read about sex and post witty status updates about upcoming events.

Amidst all this fun though,  I do a lot of work.

Putting on events, we generally have anywhere from two to five levels of bureaucracy to go through, a seemingly endless tide of paperwork and face the harsh reality of the fickleness of college students. I'm sure my friends and fellow AS employees can attest to just how mentally crushing it can be to put weeks worth of energy into an event only to have one or two people show up.

Which is one reason why I like tabling.

With tabling, the pressure isn't a matter of numbers. It isn't a matter of getting people to show up. You can catch them as they're walking by. With tabling, you're just trying to get people's attention.
Perhaps it's the two years I've spent pouring laughter and tears and blood and money (okay, no tears or blood) into the Acts of Kindness Club's events in Red Square, but I was made for tabling. I'm extroverted. I can be fairly loud. I'm decently articulate. Most importantly though, I'm connected... probably for all the above reasons.

Put me behind (in front of) a table with a cause I care about and I will sell it. Or at least try to. I like to think I have a much more human approach to this kind of commodified space that is the branding and use of a space for a function.

Tabling is an interesting social experiment as well. After a while, I've learned that making eye contact with people will either scare them away from the table or draw them in. If I'm smiling/laughing/talking when I make eye contact they will usually smile back even if they keep walking.

I really enjoy watching people I know walk by. Often, I call them out by name and wave them over (or along). Today in particular, I sent out a mass text:

"Hey friends. I'm in vendors row for my office most of today and would love hugs to help keep me warm. I may try to sell you a SAC T-shirt but feel free to say no."

I was trying to be honest in that my purpose for the mass text was to get people to the table to buy shirts, but I would settle for a hug if they didn't have the cash or didn't want to spend money. With Bellingham's weather recently, it's been pretty hit or miss whether we'll have snow, rain, hail or sun and standing outside even for an hour gets cold fast.

I think I got about four text responses from people who never showed, three people who texted back and hugged me, and three people who showed up to hug me without texting back.

My feet were numb after the first hour and when I walked away to throw away the remains of my lunch after the third hour, I realized just how numb they were. I was surprised I didn't fall over taking the fifteen steps between our table and the garbage can. My bad for not wearing properly waterproof shoes I suppose.

Tabling today was also particularly interesting considering Western had the Migrant Youth Leadership Conference on campus. Several bus loads of middle and high schoolers from the greater Whatcom community were on campus as student representatives gave them tours and encouraged them to consider pursuing higher education.

Several tours passed by my table, and the youth giggled, wide-eyed at the selection of condoms out beside me as their guides talked about Vendors Row being a place where clubs and organizations could share information about their group or have a bake sale.

It wasn't until the fourth or fifth tour passed by that one of the youth stopped and asked me about the condoms.

"Are these free?"

How do you explain to a seventh grader that while yes, we are giving them out for free, because of the office I work for they're paid for by student dollars and, yes, you can take more than one, but are you even fully aware of the emotional, social and physical consequences of sex when you don't even know what lube is used for? In under thirty seconds? While his friends are clamoring around him, laughing and taking a few for themselves?

You don't.

You make eye contact with their college tour guide hoping they'll move the group along and politely ask the young gentlemen to limit themselves so other people have the opportunity to enjoy the safer sex supplies that are supposed to be available for everyone.

I can't wait to hear the stories from teachers as parents find these lovely little presents in their sons' jacket pockets.

For me though, it's just another day in the SAC.