Pregnancy & Grad School: Are We Behind the Times?

By "we" I mean the university where I currently teach/dissertate. Apparently, I and the other grad student moms are not at all behind the times! In fact, we are doing exactly what we are supposed to be doing, much as our early-wave feminist professors were doing as they were supposed to be doing (and as, in many cases, they think we should be doing) by waiting until their careers were well established before having their families (if, indeed, they ever did choose to have families--whether they just never confronted the choice, didn't have time, or chose consciously not to have families). I actually feel fortunate at this university that so many of the female faculty in my department do have children, if I haven't mentioned it before in quite this way.

So how, then are we behind the times? Well, while I was poking around seeing how people found me on sitemeter, I came across someone who did a Google search for "grad" and "mom" (or something similar). In addition to my own post, which likely didn't really fit what the person was looking for (Google is good for that), I found a few articles of interest. First, it seems that the Chemistry department at Stanford implemented a "pregnancy policy" in 2005, providing for pregnant grad students who held assistantships with the department to have “a 12-week period intended to accommodate late-stage pregnancy, childbirth and the care of a newborn"; though the article does not specifically mention whether the stipend would continue to be paid, I thought this was the implication the first time I read the article. Concerns raised were the exposure of the mother to chemicals and breastfeeding, and admirably, the question of whether 3 months (a WHOLE 3 months!!) would be enough time was addressed. Equity among graduate students as professionals-in-training, who should be treated in a manner analogous to postdocs and faculty, was a motivation of the department, as well as encouraging and maintaining women in the profession. On the whole this surprised me, given that it was a branch of the sciences rather than the liberal arts that was choosing to codify this policy, even though the rationale (chemicals, etc.) makes sense.

In 2006, only a few months after the first article, The Stanford Daily reported on a university-wide pregnancy policy for grad students, "a new policy with six weeks of paid leave, automatic deadline extensions and a way to maintain full-time student status." While acknowledging that the policy could offer a competitive edge over other grad schools for some (really, really special) applicants (the average pregnant prospective student wouldn't be courted by Stanford, after all), the paper seemed to think that this was a gesture toward respect for mothers rather than an attempt to attract students. I liked this statement on the subject:

The new pregnancy policy is a perfect example of how the University shouldn’t be making excuses about women in the Ph.D pipeline when the University can do things about it. This policy won’t just attract women who are planning to have children soon; it will attract women — and men — who value a true commitment to diversity.

Interesting to hear grad student families evoked under the heading of "diversity." MIT is mentioned in the article as having such a program already.

Our school's newspaper wouldn't find such a thing newsworthy. Pity. But that could be the culture. When many undergrads are looking for husbands so that they don't have to use their degrees, how would an undergraduate-centered publication even have a frame of reference from which to address this topic? *sigh*

Stony Brook State University of New York passed a related initiative on September 26, 2006, the Stony Brook Childbirth Accommodation Policy. "SB-CAP includes provisions for academic extensions, relief from regular teaching, research, clinical and/or training duties and interim financial support from the Graduate School for students that receive stipend support as Teaching Assistants, Graduate Assistants, or Research Assistants."

Excellent! So when is our turn?

I have been fortunate, finally, to receive some support, though the arranging of things was very stressful and contributed to my overall lack of progress during my first trimester, when I was kind of frozen in shock, wondering how this would work. The department decided, for continuity's sake, to hire a lecturer as a substitute for my class (in part so that my students didn't become too disoriented). I will continue to operate aspects of the class via the online course interface--hopefully, there will be some online discussion of the final work on the syllabus. Then, there are poetry presentations, based on their first papers, to cover a bit more ground in poetry. My substitute will be primarily responsible for taping these. After the presentations, my sub will oversee 2 peer workshops to help the students finalize their research paper drafts. And that's that! I have still to comment on paper topics & thesis statements, working bibliographies, grade an annotated bibliography, a research paper, and a final exam (which I will be writing sometime in the future). But I won't have to set foot back in the classroom.

That is, until January 14. That's going to roll around fast. I think I'm depressed now. *sigh*

The good news is that I teach at 5:30--after my husband gets off of work. So he will watch the teeny-tiny, the toddler, and the big brother while I am in class 2 days/week. Also, I am teaching the same thing as this semester, and doing it the same way, so very, very little prep (aside from reading/re-reading the things I didn't read/re-read this semester). But being away from that teeny-tiny is really going to be a bummer. And I will certainly have to bend my no-bottle policy and pump so that my husband isn't left high and dry (hah!) if the nursing schedule doesn't work out exactly right. It's very daunting. Maybe I should just focus on waiting for the teeny-tiny right now. She'll be 2 months when classes resume. Oof.

And I'm supposed to graduate in May? Good luck.

Where do the tickers go from here?

Considering I'm now 40 weeks and counting. . . No baby yet!

I've started drinking "Labor Ease Tea" which is also supposed to "support uterine contractions." The directions say to start drinking 1/2 cup every hour on your due date, but not to exceed 3 cups in a 24 hour period! Here's hoping! I'm a little ambivalent about trying to get labor to start, though. I've had a few painful contractions (all in the middle of the night). I don't really want to go into labor in the middle of the night--I think I would get less panicky if I were fully awake. So every now and then, I'll try a pressure point or drink some tea and think, "Wait. . . I'm trying to start this??" On the other hand, I have had a lot of pain lately from the baby's bottom pushing up--and one serious heck of a stretch mark that actually seems to have torn the skin a little; clearly, she is trying to bore a hole through my belly!! Ouch!! Today I have had some relief from that. Perhaps she has dropped a bit more. Anyway, that's my update.

In other news, I stopped teaching on Tuesday. I gave my students All Saints' off--otherwise, attending Mass would not have been possible for me. Next week, they begin presentations, which will be videotaped. I told my dissertation director a while back (jokingly) that I made a deal with the baby that she wouldn't come until I was finished my current chapter. I'm hoping the baby doesn't make me keep my word!! ;) At any rate, I suppose I'll work on it some tonight. Truthfully, I'm almost finished.

Weird Reactions to Pregnancy. . .

Just went to the office of my apartment complex, where the manager of the complex remarked that she didn't realize that I was pregnant! Well, I have pointedly been avoiding the place 'lest they do the calculations of number of people; I'm hoping that they don't remember that we only have a 2-bedroom!! (Of course, I grew up in a 3 bedroom, 800 square foot house with as many as 8 people at one time. . . Standards for space are difference in Texas--our apartment is over 1000 square feel and only 2 bedrooms.) There is always someone in the last few days of a pregnancy who didn't realize I was pregnant, but then, I don't tend to broadcast it, either. But I was doing the "idle chit-chat about the due date" thing and said that yes, this one was being stubborn. To which the complex manager replied, "The last one usually is!" Huh?? Now who, indeed, said this was the last one?

Last Tuesday, I was heading to teach my class--waiting for the elevator (to go down to the second floor--disgraceful)--when I saw the wife of my dissertation director, also an academic in my department, whom I know to have slightly odd mannerisms from time to time, but my family has visited with hers, and we have had Thanksgiving at their house (the first time by open invitation to anyone in the department who didn't have family close by--it was kind of a tradition for them to do it). I hadn't really seen her at all throughout the pregnancy, and, well, I'm kind of large these days. So I said hello, and she asked how my son was doing and whether he was looking forward to--wait for it--Halloween! Slightly taken aback, I said that I wasn't sure because he hadn't really mentioned it all that often. Then, she said, "Well, I guess he isn't looking forward to it, is he!" at which point, my dissertation director walked up, gave me a big smile and a "Hey!" before his expression changed to one of puzzled confusion--mirroring how I was feeling pretty well. *shrug* By that time, I had missed the elevators, and had to wobble down the stairs instead.

The Worst Thing about this Potter Controversy. . .

. . . Is that, unlike most of the people involved in the "debate" (which for me is only a debate over whether the author's comments in the media have authority surpassing that of the text itself), is that I'm just starting to read the book, which my son has checked out from his school library. So as I'm reading, I'm either completely mocking the idea (uh oh, Dumbledore's brother "fiddled around with goats"!) or anticipating how one phrase or another might--scratch that, WILL--be used to argue for the truth of Rowling's "revelation." Suffice it to say, I am reading with the eye of a critic rather than an eye to leisure. Which kind of defeats the purpose of reading the books for me. If I didn't suspend my inner critic to a large degree, I wouldn't be able to read them at all. 'Cause frankly, I don't think they're all that good. They're sloppy, and this latest stunt is a continuation of that sloppiness--Rowling's attempt to include in the "next installment" an idea or aspect of the fantasy world that did not occur to her in the previous installments. This time, she couldn't write another book, though, because she promised she wouldn't.** And writing in homosexuality for a future edition would just be a tacky and paltry admission that she hadn't done it in the first place. The inconsistency has bugged me all along. So I read them in the way others read romance novels--as an entertainment and an escape. But this time, my unwillingness to pay for a hardback has backfired.

I have, however, been enjoying the debates from the perspective of literary criticism and what people think about it. Considering that I teach it (in a sense) and have definite ideas about it, I find a lot of this pretty stimulating. Either that, or the hormones are doing something really weird. . .

Anyway, if any of this floats your boat, take a look at Darwin, Mrs. Darwin, and the illuminating comments of Zippy, here and here.

**Although if you look at the comments to Darwin's post (the first I link to, above), he suggests a title for her next book. . . ;) If that particular book surfaces, I will break my resolution not to pay hardcover price!!

Quiet Resignation vs. Heroic Defiance

Perhaps all Christians in general, but certainly Catholics in particular, hear a lot about acceptance of God's will. I am reminded of one woman's story of her conversation with a Protestant minister as she labored under the influence of RU-486 to deliver her child that had died in the womb (found courtesy of Entropy's blog). The story highlights how she, backed by Catholic theology, was much more willing than the Protestant minister to attribute specific redemptive cause to the situation in which she found herself. The story speaks of courage, intelligence, and faith, and shows a certain feistiness as well. She accepts God's will without necessarily liking it, as her analogy shows: God's making me into a sword and I just happen to be at the 'beat the hell out of it stage'. That's okay, because at the end, He will cool me off and polish me up and I will be sparkly and shiny and I will be a sword. But that's not necessarily common in the "accepting God's will" stories we here. My impression is that mostly it's a pretty passive process, and that the truly serene don't question overmuch. At least, that's what we're supposed to think.

Then, there's the issue of "joining one's suffering to the cross"--that is, allowing ourselves to participate in Jesus's sacrifice, remembering his sacrifice and accepting our own more willingly, sometimes even cheerfully. Admittedly, I am in the earlier stages of understanding this. Taken together, these concepts allow us, perhaps, to avoid the rejection of God that so may experience in difficult times, teaching us, instead, that God's love is still with us in difficult times. Through acceptance of redemptive suffering and through remembering Christ's sacrifice in (or by way of) our own pain, we are perhaps drawn down the path towards sainthood. But is everyone called to this kind of acceptance? And if so, why is it so contrary to human nature? Is the human will one of those things, like certain aspects of human sexuality, that must be controlled and contained, even overcome, on the path to holiness?

I admit that these ideas a problematic to me because the"calm acceptance" model rather induces me to expect the worst--as my pregnancy anxieties have no doubt revealed. I am inclined to worry anyway, but somehow along my Catholic journey, I have adopted an idea that runs something like, "If suffering is redemptive, and if so many around me are suffering, and if I'm supposed to join my sufferings to the cross, and welcome them as an occasion for growth in faith, then why the heck should I be spared? Shouldn't it be my turn?" (not in the sense that I want bad things to happen, but because I dread the possibility). My life hasn't been easy, but it hasn't been catastrophically bad, either. When I was pregnant for my son, a good friend who had also been pregnant at the same time in worse circumstances (but miscarried, presumably), died about 2 weeks before I delivered of tragically preventable circumstances. But losing a friend, while terrible, is not the same as what her family experienced. Why them? I hesitate to ask, "Why not me?" but that does seem the natural line of questioning. Were they more "worthy" of the suffering, or more able to deal with it? Or is it simply that I have not had mine yet, and if so, when should I expect it?

Well, clearly, it is counterproductive to go through life expecting it--even fearing it. I really like the line in the novena that I have been praying since Sunday night (thanks to Sarah of Just Another Day of Catholic Pondering!) that says, I am so attached to the things of this world that instead of longing for Heaven I am filled with dread at the thought of death, and clearly it is perfect for me that this is a novena to Our Lady of Hope. So appropriate in so many ways!! But what about that "longing for Heaven"? How much rejection of the world is too much? Can't I rest assured in the knowledge that what I do here for my family and others is valuable, and that God will surely allow me to continue to accomplish those tasks? Or is that arrogant on my part? Is it simply a matter of resignation? "Trust in God" clearly takes many shapes, and sometimes can resemble futility (if we trust that God will send us tragic events and circumstances, no matter what, for His own good reasons) or vanity (if we believe that God will not send us tragic circumstances, because we're too darned important).

So as some part of my brain was pondering this this morning, thinking about my recent anxieties, I thought of one of my favorite poems and one of the most moving poems in the English language. Hmmm. . . Not very Catholic, I thought, but why not? Not everyone is called to be a martyr. At the same time, we believe that God's power and omnipotence can anticipate our defiance, non-acceptance, whatever--and turn it to his purpose. But I wonder, there is much discussion of "Catholic friendly" literature on blogs & such. . . What do we do with this? The poem is about grief, but the tone is attractively and tragically heroic. Is it wrong, somehow, to admire a poem of such angry defiance?:

Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

And you, my father, there on the sad height,
Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Incidently, if you have Flash, you can hear the author read the poem here. At least, I think so. Apparently, I don't have flash. But hearing Dylan Thomas read it is incomparable.

Tea and Novenas

Today was the baby shower tea. It was a very small matter, with three graduate student friends, two of whom had to leave early, and my mother and one sister, who left to bring my brother to work and returned afterward. My mother and sister were not originally supposed to be in town. The sister who was to attend had to work. My sister who did attend just returned from Colorado, where she tried to live with some friends--a married couple with a new baby--a situation that just didn't work out. So it was nice to know that that situation was at an end for her! And my mother came up at the beginning of the month with my youngest brother (13 yrs) for a doctor's appointment (since medical care is better--and cheaper--here than in New Orleans), left for a while to help my sister move from Colorado, and returned for a bit more of a visit. She was to have left early today, before the tea, but postponed her trip home and so was able to make it after all. She will be returning tomorrow, but my brother will be staying with my sister for a couple of weeks. If the baby waits a bit, she may be here for the birth! As for my brother, he has been rather depressed in New Orleans--lonely and living without plumbing because of the state of the house. . . My mother returns to find out information about the Road Home program. Hopefully that will go well and they will be able to offer her some hope of repair for her property. She has had a job--working at Starbucks, and is starting to do freelance sewing, alterations, photography, digital imaging, book making, selling her own jewelry designs, painting murals--any number of artistic pursuits, whenever she can find jobs. She much prefers the latter to the former, and the schedule of Starbucks does not easily allow for trips to Texas, so she's not entirely sure what awaits her on her return. . .

So in all, the tea was small & pleasant. And there were lots of little eclairs.

In response to my last post, a blogging friend suggested praying a novena--the two of us together. She says that is something a friend of hers offers when she is worried. We considered St. Gerard, but then decided on Our Lady of Hope. This was not an incarnation of the Blessed Mother that I had every heard of before! But what struck me is that her famous appearance in the French village of Pontmain was on my birthday, 106 years earlier. It strikes me that as Catholics, many of us place importance on things like that (I always have; I suppose it's cultural)--and it's rather hard not to sometimes. After all, hope is something I do need reminders of from time to time. I plan to doing some research and finding an icon or holy card to keep with me. Such apparent coincidences remind one of the Communion of Saints, and remind us of the operation of God's will in the world across time. My son, for example, has a very unusual Irish first name. Imagine our surprise when, on the day of his baptism, the deacon told us of an obscure Irish saint--and abbot--whose feast day was celebrated the day after my son's birthday, whose name was clearly an archaic spelling of my son's name!

So it is nice to have the comfort of prayer, and a communal prayer, and the personal connection as well.

Novena

I am the mother of fair love, and of fear, and of knowledge, and of holy hope. In me is all grace of the way and of the truth; in me is all hope of life and of virtue. Come to me all that desire me and be filled with my fruits (Sirach 24:24-26).
O Blessed Virgin Mary, Mother of Grace, Hope of the world.
Hear us, your children, who cry to you

Let Us Pray
O God, who by the marvelous protection of the Blessed Virgin Mary has strengthened us firmly in hope, grant we beseech You, that by persevering in prayer at her admonition, we may obtain the favors we devoutly implore. Through Christ Our Lord. Amen.

Prayer to Our Lady of Hope
O Mary, my Mother, I kneel before you with heavy heart. The burden of my sins oppresses me. The knowledge of my weakness discourages me. I am beset by fears and temptations of every sort. Yet I am so attached to the things of this world that instead of longing for Heaven I am filled with dread at the thought of death.
O Mother of Mercy, have pity on me in my distress. You are all-powerful with your Divine Son. He can refuse no request of your Immaculate Heart. Show yourself a true Mother to me by being my advocate before His throne. O Refuge of Sinners and Hope of the Hopeless, to whom shall I turn if not you?
Obtain for me, then, O Mother of Hope, the grace of true sorrow for my sins, the gift of perfect resignation to God's Holy Will, and the courage to take up my cross and follow Jesus. Beg of His Sacred Heart the special favor that I ask in this novena.

To protect me and my baby from the risks of childbirth,

to help me to endure the pains of labor,

for relief from anxiety for my son and myself,

and for a safe return to my family after delivery.

But above all I pray, O dearest Mother, that through your most powerful intercession my heart may be filled with Holy Hope, so that in life's darkest hour I may never fail to trust in God my Savior, but by walking in the way of His commandments I may merit to be united with Him, and with you in the eternal joys of Heaven. Amen.
Mary, our Hope, have pity on us.
Hope of the Hopeless, pray for us.

Three Hail Marys.

reprinted (with request added) from EWTN.com

Modest expectations & Morbid thoughts. . .

. . .For me, the two go together. Over the past several months, I have worried about a number of things with this pregnancy--implications for my career, the opinions of those around me, fear and anxiety surrounding labor. . . But as the due date approaches, my hopes and fears have shifted, and what I want more than anything is a healthy baby, a healthy mommy, and a swift return to my other children. (Let's forget, for a moment, how badly I want to stop teaching at this point, particularly since I have 14 or so papers waiting to be graded. . .)

This is the first pregnancy in which I have spent the last few weeks actually preparing for the hospital stay. With my first, I did not have a household of my own. Therefore, I did not really have anything to prepare. I had a vague idea of what I would bring to the hospital, but I didn't even have a bag packed. I'm not sure why I didn't pack it when I realized my water was leaking and I would have to be admitted the next morning, but that was a long time ago. There are just some things that don't stay with you over 10 or so years. With my daughter, it just didn't occur to me to pack a back prior to the 37th week of pregnancy. The first one came on the expected day, so certainly the second should, also!! Furthermore, when I was pregnant with my daughter, there were fewer things to prepare. I had someone lined up to watch my son, who was old enough to understand, and that was that. That is, until the hurricane. By which I mean, The Hurricane. Katrina. Then things became more complicated in some ways, but at the same time, I had relatives to cook & clean & keep my son from worrying! So my preparations were of the buying, washing, and assembling baby items variety. (And lucky I didn't wait until the last minute!! I think my rocking chair was delivered the same week as the baby!)

So for the first time, I have a bag packed. I also have had the ongoing process of preparing my class for my extended absence, which was not an issue, since I wasn't teaching last time. Like last time, I am due around the first of the month, but unlike last time, I am actually preparing for the next paychecks and bills, trying my best to stay on top of things, knowing that I am generally the one to pay bills, and that I won't want to pay bills when there is a baby to tend to! And I filled out an order form for orchestra pictures for my son that isn't due until November 7. And in the back of my head is the thought, "In case I'm not here to do it," which, given the reality of the hospital stay and the unpredictability of babies' arrivals, is perfectly accurate. But the thought could, in other circumstances, have more cryptic implications. And so I look at my beautiful little girl, and I think, "What if. . .?"

I am prone to such imaginings anyway. But these have recently been reawakened by my knowledge that my son is afraid of something happening. He is almost as neurotic as his mother, whether by nature or nurture. When I was last pregnant, he asked directly if the mother could die, since he knew from a friend's mother's experience when he was in kindergarten that the baby could. That was a very sad situation. I of course had to admit to him that, yes, the mother could die. A friend of my mother's died in childbirth from medical neglect and complications due to pre-ecclampsia. Her baby was severely brain damaged. One of her children was near my age and went to my school. But I also told him (and reminded myself) of the huge number of births that occur with no harm to mother or child. He has been mostly quiet about the risks this time, until recently. I thought it was perhaps due to RE (religious education)/CCD, especially with the ongoing 40 Days for Life campaign (not knowing how much the children are told about the campaign), but he tells me that the children were discussing pregnancy in orchestra (??!)--perhaps because of a movie and a pregnant substitute. Anyway, he came home with an odd question one Friday: whether there was a kind of medicine that could keep married people from having babies if they wanted. Of course, I also thought of the extensive ad campaigns for birth control pills, though they tend to make suggestions rather than explicit statements about the purpose of the medication, stressing "other benefits" of the pill. . . So I explained to my son that, yes, there were such medications, but that the Church teaches us that in marriage, the family should welcome children, and so they should not be used. He was satisfied. I tried to elicit the reason for this query--he is not the type of child think that it is desirable not to have children. In fact, he's waiting for a little brother! I got a vague impression from his response that it was his concern for me that led to the question. The previous week he lit a candle for me after Mass, and I tried to sooth his concerns then. I am, after all, very healthy. My mother and grandmother delivered 6 and 7 healthy babies, respectively. But my own anxieties were awakened. And I have to banish the fleeting thought, "What if?" As it is, I am aware that my little girl will not understand where I have gone for 2 or 3 days, and why I can't come back with them from the hospital when they come to visit.

I am glad that we never watched Star Wars Episode 3. After all, that is the point, no? Skywalker/Darth fears to lose his wife in childbirth--and then does, I believe. Not the message for a child who is sensitive to such things.

So while I am reasonably convinced that I will come out of this O.K., I worry for the sake of my little ones, and all of my prayers are for my safety, for them, and the baby's safety and health, for all of us.

Gifted/Talented -or- Just Another School District Failure

I have been engaged in a constant battle since my son was in third grade (perhaps second) to try to make sure that he was being challenged. Pre-K through second, the issue was not as bad because he was at a Montessori school, and because the results were usually pretty transparent. It was clear to me that he was learning. In third grade, at the same Montessori, we found that he was frequently kept from advancing because of silly procedural issues. He didn't memorize phonics marks because he found it pointless, so he could not advance to the next "level" of spelling words. Well, clearly he had outgrown this particular way of learning, which should be permissible in a Montessori curriculum. Heck! A traditional Montessori curriculum wouldn't have had them taking traditional spelling tests anyway. So rather than keeping him there for 4th grade, we sent him to the only Catholic school in the area, which was $100/month less than his Montessori for parishoners in the area (though we paid 12 months rather than 9, which makes up part of that difference), with terrible results. The teacher was demeaning & incompetent. The principal refused to admit the problem, until she stood to lose 4+ students, all from the same teacher's class! So while the students still have to put up with this teacher, they put up with her for fewer hours in the day. We left early last year, a decision I chronicle here and here. So we decided to move into the "good" school district--the one with "exemplary" schools rather than schools that are struggling to meet the state's minimum requirements. The only other option would have been the local Episcopal school, which has a nifty college prep curriculum but a hefty price tag. I also suspected that my son would be at an academic disadvantage because of his recent bad educational experiences. At St. Parish School, he was held to the lowest standard of mediocrity--marginally better than the schools in the district, but not at all impressive. Case in point--they issued him a final report card with all A's for a 6-week period in which he did not attend the school.

So we begin a new school year with hope that things will be better. So far, it has been acceptable. I have had to get to the bottom of reports of threats for talking, etc., but I have found that what the teacher sees as a "warning," my son takes as a "threat," and I have accepted that this is just something to get used to. :P What has been more difficult is the fact that, while he is held to a slightly higher standard of mediocrity, and has more interesting school work, which provides a teeny bit more motivation, he is still, for all practical purposes, bored & unmotivated. Except in orchestra, which may be the saving grace of this school year.

I know it is a hotly debated educational issue, but I have problems with classes that are not divided by ability. I see no reason why slower and more advanced students alike should be held to middle-of-the-road standards. It creates resentment and impedes learning for all but those deemed to be "average"--whatever that means!! The concept of an "average" child is itself misguided. But that's how public schools operate, even when there is an acknowledgment that some students are more advanced. Here, there is no such acknowledgment. There is Enrichment Math, for which I can only assume he did not qualify, since I have heard nothing about a nomination, and Gifted and Talented (G/T).

Now, I know all about G/T. I know the philosophies behind it, the testing procedures, the characteristics of a G/T child. I was in G/T from 2nd grade until I graduated from high school. I always expected that my son would qualify or, if not, that he would come very close, or fit the intelligence requirements but perhaps not the personality requirements (for lack of a better word). You see, as my husband & I have discussed, there are traits beyond intelligence that qualify one for G/T, and these generally have a negative side. G/T students are self-motivated prefer to work alone: interpret--antisocial and procrastinators. They have "alternative" ways of experiencing the world: interpret--unorganized. My husband was never tested for G/T, having been in the Catholic school system from the beginning. G/T students (to prevent them form getting snotty) were always told that G/T has "nothing to do with intelligence" (which is partially true). It has to do with critical thinking/logic and creativity. Honors, therefore, is something different. I was honors and G/T (the two are often complimentary). We agree that my husband, the much more social and organized of the two of us, was/is "Honors," and in many things more advanced than I.

My son is likely a combination, though it is difficult for me, as a parent, to anticipate whether he leans more to the G/T side or not. I would like to think so, in part because it would explain the laziness--G/T students require a different kind of motivation and give up if they feel something is not worth their while (I know), but there are few opportunities for me to observe such things. I tried, therefore, to have my son tested during the testing period last school year (roughly March or April 2007), at the end of 4th grade. However, since he was out of the school system, he was tested instead at the beginning of this year. The test consisted of the Iowa Test of Basic Skills (a pretty "standard" standardized test--ha ha--that he took in 3rd grade with good results) and a Cognitive Abilities Test, of which I know little. In addition, I filled out an extensive questionnaire about personality traits that we have noticed. Unfortunately, his scores were very low. Not below the 50th percentile, but lower than I would have expected. I received a form letter with his scores and an empty promise that there would be other enrichment opportunities, yada yada, blah blah blah. Naturally, I questioned. And expressed my doubts that there would be any other opportunity for challenge, since there is no acknowledgment of advanced abilities in the classroom. The reply came today.

And the basic problem is that this school district sees G/T testing as a matter of knowledge rather than innate ability (or potential to learn) and critical thinking. The ITBS test he took was the one normally administered at the end of 6th grade. So as a beginning 5th grader, he was expected to score above 96% of the students who take the test--students who, unlike my son, have had the benefit of the 5th and 6th grade curricula! This, of, course, explained why his scores seemed artificially low. Rather than testing for innate ability, he was being tested on concepts--and the jump from 4th grade to the end of 6th is considerable. So unless I or his previous school had been teaching him on an advanced level already, which I/they were not doing, he would have had no chance of passing the test.

The teacher administering the test made it clear that I was the one who requested the testing be done at the beginning of the year rather than wait until the Spring. Well, yes, as I wanted him to have the benefit of a challenge this year rather than wait until 6th grade. Why shouldn't I? Should I be willing to squander another year of his already disappointing education while I wait for the standard testing period? Apparently, yes. You see, this admonition had the sound of an admission that the testing for in-district students was easier than for transfers from another school district. After all, they are tested one year in advance of where they are. In March of this year, my son was in 4th, and would likely have been given the 5th grade test. However, in September of this year, he is in 5th grade, and therefore (without the benefit of another years' education) was given the 6th grade test. So he is handicapped from the beginning, fails the test, and I look like another quack parent who can't accept that her child is not as smart as she thinks. And on top of that, I get a lecture on the different between a "percentage" and a "percentile." Because no one who didn't major in education can possibly understand that difference!

So she directs my above-average, not-being-challenged, finishes-all-of-his-homework-in-class child to optional after school "clubs" like the "Scrabble" club. My response: that I expect the education to occur during school hours. My conclusion: education is a battle. No matter where you go. If you are a parent who cares, that is, or has high standards. At least there is orchestra.

Homeschoolers: Chalk all of this up to another reason to continue what you are doing.

Laundry and Wives' Tales--UPDATED

So this is the weekend I've had slotted for a while to unpack & wash baby items. I have most of my baby clothes present & accounted for, some of the dingier things from my son (that I did not find until we were moving) have soaked, and the first batch is in the wash. The "washing baby clothes" is perceived by some as "nesting"--at least, that's what my mom told me with the last one. Well, she was right. . . I did have her within 3-4 days, though only at 37 weeks or so (I suspect I was more like 38 weeks). However, it tends to feel more like a rational decision than an impulsive burst of energy, so I just don't know. Tonight, I bought a new Sterilite drawer unit for the clothes. Plastic drawers are pretty standard for my newborns!

So I'm 37 weeks, and I feel that the preparations should begin.

Meanwhile, my husband (who had already washed most of the other clothes in the house in order to make way for my baby clothes washing) evaluated the situation with carseats. My daughter is now behind the driver's seat, the new baby will be in the middle, and my son will be behind the passenger--except that I have declared him an adult for airbag purposes, and decided that he may now sit in the front when my husband is not with us. He's taller and heavier than some adults, even though he is 10 and not 12. He takes adult doses of medicine (at least, he could, but I am a medicine minimalist and would prefer to give him the age-appropriate dose if it does the trick!!). The original plan was to put the toddler seat in the middle, but the infant seat did not fit well behind the driver's seat and our vehicle has side-impact airbags. With the infant seat so close to the door, it just didn't feel safe to me. Big brother is behind the passenger because of the carpool line at his school--someone is always trying to help my toddler out of the car to go to 5th grade.

This doesn't feel like nesting to me, as I've said, but a funny thing happened tonight when we went to eat supper (out, a rare treat these days). I have been craving fresh tomatoes for 2 days, but on our way to get sandwiches or pitas (with extra tomato, please!), I decided that chinese food sounded good. Once inside the restaurant, nothing would satisfy but the spiciest darned thing on the menu--which they made extra spicy: Jjambbong. Ask Mrs. Darwin, she knows!! It's a Korean soup with seafood, pork, veggies, round noodles, and some pretty spicy peppers. Almost as soon as I ordered, I remembered that eating spicy foods is one of those old "tricks" that supposedly stimulates labor. At any rate, it's traditional to try that route when overdue. Most of my brain (the rational part, which I hope dominates at least most of the time) feels confident that this is a myth--though not one the Mythbusters will test any time soon. The irrational part of me was perhaps a little hesitant to dip into my soup-of-flaming-chiles. I am fairly confident that the baby comes when the baby is ready--spicy food or no spicy food. But if the baby decided to be ready tonight or tomorrow, I would wonder. . . I'm not really ready, so hang on baby, and I'll put the Tabasco away!!

UPDATE: Probably by sheer coincidence, I had my very first REAL, NATURAL contraction last night--as in, too painful to be a Braxton-Hicks, and not induced by pitocin. Now, this is somewhat encouraging. On the other hand, it scared me silly!! Both the pain and the fact of the thing which, by my calculation, should not be happening yet. I stayed stock-still in bed until morning because I didn't want to do anything to trigger more. I am telling myself that I would have handled it better in daylight hours. And had I not written this post about stimulating labor only hours before. . .

The Definitive Guide to Friendship - UPDATED

Courtesy of the weirdest darned Catholic blog that I ever stumbled across but can't bring myself to read unless someone else points me there because I'm afraid it might make my head explode if I read it on a regular basis. Really. I mean, look at that sentence (and don't ask my dissertation director if there are precedents). But given my recent questions & answers on friendship, I felt I needed to post this link.

UPDATE: Yeah, this was a hoax. I was being tacky. ;) The comments are particularly bad on this one. I was serious about my head exploding though, if one can say such a thing seriously. And I found it funny that Melanie pointed out on the site that the post was not original--and was not credited as such!! Sorry, Melanie, I should have indicated more clearly that I was being tacky (besides labeling the post as a "spoof," which might easily have been overlooked.)

UPDATE: Well, apparently in the midst of the mutual admiration society on the blog linked to above, there was an update acknowledging the source, and I am now to feel remorse for my above update. So I am sorry, and I no longer find it funny that Melanie pointed out on the site that the post was not original--and was not credited as such. Or, well, I think that's what I'm supposed to be sorry for. . .

Firsts and Seconds

Well, last night my little girl made me very proud. She found a rubber band and brought it to me and said something to me, bent her head down and felt her hair--clearly, to me, a request for a ponytail!!! So I found an actual hair band and put her hair in the cutest little ponytail!! Then I chased her around the house to get this picture:Now, her momma has very long hair (without effort--it just grows & I don't cut it, so it's laziness and convenience to me, not something I cultivate!!) and puts it up in braids & ponytails a lot (and something I call a "bloop"), so I was looking forward to doing some hair-stuff, but her hair is very fine & wispy, and I haven't yet had the chance. (Her brother got my hair!) Anyway, this ponytail made me very happy, though it was a little lopsided.

Today was her second birthday, and we had a very small party--two friends, one with three children and one with one, and my brother, who had a rare break from work. And a whole balloon bouquet! It was a lot of fun. I was able to indulge in my penchant for decorating with cute pumpkin and ghost decorations, baking with funfetti cake mix and making things from the Cheerios cookbook. Fun stuff!

And just so you appreciate how difficult it was for me to get that ponytail picture:

Nursing Bras: The Bane of My Existance

I started to title this "Nursing Bras S*ck," but "s*ck" looks like "sick," and that's not what I mean. I mean that the darned things just don't fit. Why can't they size them the same as the bras everybody else wears? I mean it just doesn't make sense. Either the band size is too small, or the cup size is too big. I go up (or down) in one area, and the other area goes up or down too, even if I didn't change the other. It's really ridiculous. I would be more specific, but that's just more information about me than anyone out there needs. So let me just ask--any recommendations before I lose my mind? I can't get by with a non-nursing bra or a front-hook, I've tried Bravado & I don't like the style that's supposed to fit my size, and I prefer underwire. So please--give me your recommendations and share your stories! (As much as you feel like sharing, that is. . .)

Students = Germs

I have standard "Don't come to class sick" and "Don't tell me you're sick in person" clauses in my syllabus, but these don't really cover being sick and not knowing that you're sick. So there have been 2 cases of bacterial meningitis diagnosed on campus. They're letting faculty and students who teach/have class with the two know their risk, but with a 2-10 day incubation period, I'm not convinced that that's enough. I don't want to be infected by someone who is unaware that s/he is sick!! I would be worried anyway about transporting germs home (hence the clause), but being pregnant, this is really worrying me. :P

Dropped?: A pregnancy update

Well, this pregnancy is full of firsts. I have never before been so acutely aware of the position of the baby. This time, I can tell precisely where she is, including which part of her is where! And all weekend, I have noticed more pressure lower--strange sensations like dancing on organs when I walk that make me say "ooh!" It's never been quite that dramatic a shift. And tonight I noticed that the "diagonal" position I have been noticing--right rib to left pelvic bone--has changed to a more up-and-down--and much, much lower. Hmmm. . . I understand that this likely means absolutely nothing. It is interesting nonetheless. I am hoping that we still have a good 4 weeks to go at least!! But you know, I may not be going to the Renaissance Fest after all. And I may start moving around more slowly, so that my water doesn't break before any contractions start!! ;) With any luck, I will actually go into labor the traditional way--with contractions--another first!! Wish me luck & send prayers & happy thoughts my way!

UPDATE: While the baby is indeed lower and pretty much in position, I am not looking like delivering any time too soon, according to my doctor. Yay! (knock on wood) I'm only 1-1 1/2 cm dilated. Usually nothing happens until I'm in the 3-4 cm range.

Books!! & other ways of passing the time. . .

On Saturday we took a small road trip to one of our favorite places to spend a lot of money: Borders!!! Now, not all Borders were created equal. In fact, when Borders came to New Orleans, there was disappointment all around, I think. And we have seen Borders ranging from the awesome (Ann Arbor) to pathetic (Houston) and everything (but not everywhere) in between. This particular Borders is about 1 1/2 hours away, and worth the trip. I was the one who wanted to go. This has been fairly rare, I must admit--part of my overall "crisis of literacy" (and not the one that I'm writing about in the dissertation). You see, for someone who wholeheartedly believes in the importance and value of reading to the human person, I have done painfully little of it for the past few years. I have had little motivation to pick up a book, especially a book I had never read before. Especially fiction. I did find time for some religious works, and have particularly enjoyed reading conversion stories. I would quip, "Graduate school will do that," and I believe that's true to a degree. I couldn't even really browse in a bookstore--I had no idea what to look for!! And on a level, it pained me. On another level, I was consumed by deep frustration and even a little apathy.

The good news is, this is passing, or has passed. I have read more books this year than in many recent years. Some have been children's books--okay, MANY have been children's books!! Most have been fantasy. It is possible that all have been fantasy (except the dissertation books, and I'm not sure how rereading Sons and Lovers for a chapter counts. . .) But at any rate, I have been reading, and I went to a bookstore, and with real enjoyment, picked out books that I actually want to read--some for me and some for my son. And as an extra bonus, I got a 25% educator discount!!!

So these were our purchases:

• for the toddler: Learn Shapes with Frog (shaped like a frog, and she recently learned to say "frog" even though daddy & mommy insist on saying "froggy") and The Crayola Rainbow Colors Book. (She also got a "duck"--as she says instead of "ducky"--which is actually a TY goose from the Charlotte's Web movie. Cute!)

• for the 10-year-old: Time Cat by Lloyd Alexander, Bed-Knob and Broomstick by Mary Norton (of Borrowers fame), and Here Be Monsters! by Alan Snow, which seems to be written in the Roald Dahl tradition. Two we put back are Stowaway by Karen Hesse and Robert Andrew Parker (because we couldn't get everything) and The Invention of Hugo Cabret by Brian Selznick, which I've been looking at for months because it looks so compelling and postmodern (in a good way).

• for the husband: (and for the Tolkien collection) The Return of the Shadow by J. R. R. Tolkien, because we (though not me so much) are actively building up our collection of the back histories. I find them interesting in a scholarly way, but difficult to read cover-to-cover. I'm all for collecting them, though!

• for me: A Penguin Deluxe edition of Lady Chatterly's Lover, which really wouldn't be anything interesting, except that it has very amusing (and kind of pathetic) cartoons about D. H. Lawrence's life all over the cover. So really, I bought it more for the cover than for the text, but it really was worth it!! And I also bought a fantasy novel called City of Saints and Madmen by Jeff Vandermeer. I've never heard of Vandermeer, but the back blurb claims that he "has reinvented the literature of the fantastic." What was really interesting to me, though, was not the novelty, though that's what initially caught my attention; rather, the book has a "feel" of Italo Calvino's Invisible Cities. It definitely seems postmodern, perhaps less well-organized than Calvino's (Calvino was, after all, a genius), and involves intertwining stories. It is a city of "elegance and squalor. Of religious fervor and wanton lusts. And everywhere, on the walls of courtyards and churches, and incandescent fungus of mysterious and ominous origins." And that's not even mentioning characters! I hope it lives up to its blurb without being confusing and pointless (a definite danger with postmodernism!).

All in all, a happy book-buying excursion! ;) Now I have to find time to read! I'm supposed to be polishing off chapter 4 of the dissertation this week, after I prep for my class for the next few weeks. I have a doctor's appointment Monday (and here begin the weekly visits), and I will see if my doctor thinks I can safely go to the Renaissance Festival next Saturday!! I hadn't been thinking of going, but then it occurred to me--if I can go on a shopping trip this weekend, why not a festival next? I only feel pregnant when I'm trying to sleep and have to sit up to change positions, and when I have periodic fits of exhaustion during the day. Other than that, I just feel like. . . me! ;)

You Can Lead a Student to Literature, but. . .

You might gather two things from the title of this post--that I've been much engaged of late with teaching, and that the experience has been less-than-pleasant. The first assumption would be correct; the second, well, you'll see. . .

I am wrapping up the second major work on the syllabus, after the introductory foray into poetry that always begins my lit classes. I love teaching poetry, but it has to be done early in the semester to allow time for the poetry paper-and-presentation combo that I generally assign. They can't work on those without some basic understanding of form, meter, and some basic steps of interpretation. Having wrapped up "Goblin Market" last week, we have been covering William Morris's utopia News from Nowhere because I just couldn't talk about feminism in a serious, unbiased way with Herland. I had a difficult time convincing students that the "it takes a village" method of parenting promoted in Gilman's book had any benefits. "No really!" I said, "Doesn't it make sense that the most competent women should be raising the children?" "Well yes," I said, "It would depend on your criteria for judging competency." And "Yes," I said, "that would be a rather difficult line to draw." And, "Oh by the way," I said, "Gilman was a big proponent of Eugenics." "Why, yes, the concepts are very complimentary, aren't they?" Besides, I'm a poster child for motherhood right about now. Talking about it theoretically gets to feeling a little, um, disingenuous. So I decided to tackle socialism instead. Well, not really.

Because, you see, Morris was a socialist politically, but his utopia basically does away with any form of economics. There is no "economy," just a willingness to share--a communalism (I don't want to say "commune" or "communism") that resembles a large-scale monastic existence (only the economics of it--for want of a better word) more than any other model. Marxists, socialists--they don't really want to see an end to economics. Money stays, private property goes. It may not have started that way--just ask Marx and Lenin. . .

What's interesting about this utopia are Morris's aesthetic ideas, including ideas about the aesthetic value of work. Well, this can be hard to impress upon a group of students whose self-stated purpose in life is to compete and to work to acquire "things." If this sounds harsh, I wish you could see the class discussion boards. I had someone grudgingly acknowledge that there are people who work because they enjoy their jobs, but most can't see why anyone in Morris's utopia would be inclined to work. They suggest instead that the mindset would, in reality, be more like those who "mooch" (my word--their sentiment) off of Welfare. Ooof. Well, considering the financial backgrounds of a lot of these students, I'm not all that surprised.

What is surprising to me is the way they harp on reality. I guess Morris's utopia is realistic enough and yet idealistic enough that the main question in their heads seems to be, "Could this really work?" With the implied answer being, "No, because people are. . ." (nasty, cruel, lazy, competitive--enter negative adjective of choice.) And many of these students are self-described Christians. I must say that it pains me to see students so young who are so cynical. I consider myself a pretty cynical person, but I realize more and more that I have a kind of idealism that runs pretty deep. At any rate, I do believe that there should be more to choosing a profession than the money one will make and the things that one will acquire by working in that particular job! And I do believe that there is a dignity in just knowing that one has a job and that there is a kind of despair that goes along with not believing that a job will ever come along--and that the despair leads people (not all, but some) to rely on social services. Why bother, when the world seems against us? Where I differ from many others who profess similar philosophies is in the solution--namely, that I don't claim to have one. I believe that the individual is the key--not the mass, and so to help the general, we must look for the one person who needs encouragement, then another, then another. My job here is just to get them to look beyond their social situations and their conceptions of reality and say, "Well, yes. . . I guess it would be better if people could do what work appealed to them and still be just as comfortable as the next person." Perhaps the next question might be, "Well, why isn't it like that, anyway?" At any rate, I actually mentioned the term "dignity of work" on the discussion boards, and pointed out that many people work who have no hope of ever gaining a Lexus, or even owning their own home--which so many people take for granted. And I asked why that might be, when many of the people in question do not enjoy what they do.

I guess this brings me to what a wonderful thing discussion boards can be if used correctly. Not that I'm a master by any means. I have modified how I moderate and assign the discussion boards from the beginning of the semester, and I have tried this in semesters past. Basically, I have to have them write questions about certain topics on certain days, and on alternate days, they answer others' questions. Then, depending on where their questions lead, I either use them as discussion-starters in class, or start my own discussion board and have them answer my thematic questions. The result is that they actually say more about the literature--when properly prompted, and when they don't get stuck on "how people really are" or "how the society works"! At any rate, the discussion can evolve much more naturally, and I like having the students set the agenda, since I'm not really trying to promote one (contrary to their expectations--when they saw the term "socialism," they expected the worst from me, I'm sure!!). I'm not a socialist, but at this point, you might have a hard time convincing them of that!

While this is a frustrating experience in some ways, it is also inspiring in a way. Here, I actually do have an opportunity to get them to imagine the world in a different way--which is, indeed, the point of a utopia, and the value of fantasy. C. S. Lewis once wrote that one who reads fantasy “does not despise real woods because he has read of enchanted woods: the reading makes all real woods a little enchanted." Tolkien takes this a quite a bit further in his (much more scholarly) "On Fairy Stories," which promises to provide for a lot of good discussion in the coming week(s), by theorizing the nature of the enchantment (in a Christian context, which might inform some of the discussion board topics, but will probably not enter into class discussion).

As we wind down William Morris, who it seems we have barely started, and prepare to meet Tolkien, which meeting I look forward to eagerly, we have ongoing contemplation of poetry on an individual level as they prepare to write their poetry explications (with a fantasy twist). Today I met with a student who was so petrified of poetry that she was literally only reading words on paper, and wasn't really sure how they strung together to make meaning. This sounds harsh, but it is accurate. I have never seen such anxiety with regard to literature before. She was literally shaking as she answered my "What is this poem about? What's going on in this poem?" with a timid, "Well, it could be about . . . death?" I believe that answer seemed as likely as one of the other "Themes of Literature" she undoubtedly learned about in high school. But the beauty of assigning an explication paper is that it really allows the student a true opportunity to discover the meaning of the poem for him or herself--in this case, guided by me, but it was a good teaching opportunity. I believe I did "lead her to literature," and she does indeed understand this poem--and perhaps, by extension, all poems--better.

In short, I really love this syllabus. I hope that wherever I go next, I am able to continue my thematic course on fantasy. Maybe one day I will even be able to edit an anthology of British fantasy literature that can be used for such a course--you know, the Norton Anthology of British Fantasy or some such thing. . .

It's the idealist in me, perhaps (you know, the one I keep hidden like Boober fraggle and Sidebottom), but I think there might be some value in this reading and teaching literature thing after all. At any rate, this semester is giving me that feeling.

Thinking About "Sexy," Breastfeeding (again), Purgatory, and A Strange Immortality

As I get less and less time for extended posts, I will likely have more and more of these "in brief" thoughts. I hope it doesn't get too monotonous! But there are a few things bopping around my head that I need to get onto the blog before they go away and before I can stop thinking about them and finish preparing for class!!

1) Is "sexy" a performance? - Jen of Et Tu, Jen? has picked up my "sexy breastfeeding breasts" post in order to completely turn it around. How cool is that? She asks whether "sexiness" is a valuable goal in itself, and I know where she's coming from in a way, though I see it differently. I've never really aspired to look sexy or act sexy--I guess I was trying to be intelligent and look attractive instead. An interesting discussion has ensued, mostly about the appropriateness of trying to be sexy, especially in a Catholic context, and in the context of a Catholic sacramental marriage. What strikes me is that sexiness is being represented almost exclusively as a look or an act that one puts on for other people or, in the case of "good, moral" sexiness (which is up for grabs on the other discussion), for one other person. It is never a feeling that comes from within, which is really what I was trying to evoke in my post. I have suggested "sensual"as an alternative to "sexy," both because it's not quite as loaded and because it seems to suggest a feeling--something internal--rather than a look or an action--something external. What I originally said was, "breastfeeding moms can still have sexy thoughts about their breasts." I'm not really talking about society's concept of what is sexy, but responding to the original comment that breastfeeding moms "cheapen what [their] breasts are" by breastfeeding in public, perhaps indiscreetly, or whatever. But what are your breasts anyway, when they're not a food source? Something to flaunt or somethin you appreciate the way you appreciate any part of your body that makes you feel sensual or beautiful? Anyway, they're not buying it on Jen's blog. Oh well!

2) Facebook's no breastfeeding policy - I came across something recently (I think through sitemeter) about Facebook shutting down the site of a breastfeeding mom for posting a picture of herself nursing her little one. Now hopefully most if not all of us can agree that that's not obscene, and not what they had in mind with their "no nudity" policy. However, I'm going to play devil's advocate and say that it might become more difficult for them to police the content of pages if they start differentiating the "type" or "intent" of pictures of bare anatomical features. How do we separate the nude baby in the bath family page from the child porn site? Yes, it should be clear, but it does complicate matters if we start having to address it. Also during a sitemeter browse, I noticed that someone in France did, indeed, find my "sexy breastfeeding breasts" post while searching for erotic lactation porn. Eeeeeeeew! So would the same mother who is outraged because her post was taken down feel all warm & fuzzy if some pervert was masturbating to a picture of her breastfeeding? I don't think I would, but then, I'm not going to post ANY pictures of myself or my children, so I guess it's more a matter of privacy than aesthetics. Still, tough call for Facebook. Or maybe not.

3) Purgatory - Entropy has a thought-provoking post about Purgatory, a favorite Catholic concept of mine, and how her daughter is struggling with the concept. I've already written a fair amount about it over there, so I'll cheat & repost my comment in the interest of time:

The concept of Purgatory is one I always found rather attractive--that is, after I passed my "just say no to all things Catholic" phase. Dante helped my understanding of it, predictably perhaps. (I took a course on Dante very shortly after getting my undergrad degree, and it was instrumental in my eventual conversion.) One vivid scene in Purgatorio involves one of the souls remembering his death and an angel and devil fighting over his soul. It seems his was a definite "death bed repentance" in the form of a single tear, and the devil was saying, basically, "oh, come on--that's not really genuine!" The argument worked with someone in the Inferno, but evidently this conversion of heart was real. So while he did indeed repent, there was no chance for it to be borne out in life, and even had he been able to "repay the $10," he didn't have the chance to try. So off he goes to Purgatory. I find it comforting because it means that we don't have to be impeccable, even after a conversion of heart, after repentance and penance (of course, Purgatory is also an extended opportunity for penance, and so is related to the Sacrament of Reconciliation). It takes into account our real, human failings in the face of God's mercy & forgiveness--and perfection.

And now I get hokey... It always bothered me at the end of Star Wars: Return of the Jedi that Darth Vadar could participate in and commit the number and type of sheer evil acts that he did during his life, and then, because Luke says, "No, you're really good," voila! he's good! And he joins the "good Jedi": Yoda and Obi Wan. It simply didn't seem fair. I mean, what about all the bad stuff? In Protestant theology, this wouldn't be a problem. He said sorry (sort of), was forgiven, end of story. But to imagine that the soul (yes, I'm still talking about Darth Vadar) doesn't carry a mark of all that evil is naive at best. Certainly, he has not reached the point where he should be able to participate in the joys of... well... company with the good Jedis (and here the analogy breaks down a bit). Anyway, I always thought that it was patently unfair that Darth should be judged as their equals without any reparation. I would have had him in Purgatory for a long, long time!!

Well, at the very least, I hope you find that amusing! ;)

And I wish you the best in dealing with this issue with your daughter!! My son has pretty much accepted everything seamlessly. I don't know how much he had learned at this point about Purgatory, but at any rate, I'm keeping Star Wars handy! ;)

-and-

I wonder, too, looking at Ma Beck's comment again, if certain types of sins retain a kind of hold on us--that on a level, even if we're forgiven and have really, truly repented, we are inclined (whether from shame or whatever) to replay them in our minds, to dwell on them, to keep them with us. I know I've done this. Anyway, this kind of lingering thought about sin is not appropriate for the joys of heaven, and must be burned away...

I rather like the idea of Purgatory, as you can tell, though it is tempting to feel like it takes the pressure off of me!

4) Immortality? - My daughter, who likes to peruse the VHS/DVD collection for things that have interesting pictures on the cases, has been interested in Toy Story 1 & 2 lately, which prompted some brief musings on what it means for one's immortality to depend on the existence--indeed, the youth and whim--of someone else!! This is a motif that repeats itself throughout children's books and media: consider The Velveteen Rabbit, "Puff the Magic Dragon," Jim Henson's The Christmas Toy, and then Toy Story. And children are shown to be fairly fickle in several of these examples. The Velveteen Rabbit is a bit different, since it's not immortality, but rather mortality--a "real" existence--that he achieves through being loved. Still, the dependency on the love of another--selfish love, really--and the necessity for the individual to build his/her existence around that other with no guarantee of reciprocal love--it's rather dark and existential on a level. As indeed, children's literature can often be. The odd thing is that stories that promote love and self-sacrifice are seen as positive, even mirroring Christian virtues. But I don't see that as the whole story. Unless the toy represents the perpetual "dark night of the soul," but I just don't think the creators were being that deep.

So really, would Buzz Lightyear have been better off or worse thinking that he was, indeed, The Real Buzz Lightyear? At least he would have entertained the notion that his life had its own purpose. On the other hand, he would not have been self-aware. These tease the edges of Christian notions, but fall short in disturbing ways. Consider, for example, the notion that we are called to do God's will and that when we imagine ourselves acting independently from God, Church teaching tells us that we are not seeing the whole picture and not living to the fullest extent possible. The Buzz analogy has a similar ring about it, except that the alternatives are utter dependency and self-sacrifice for uncertain love--or delusion. The Christian vision tells us what we seek to gain or lose from including God in our lives--or not.

Okay, clearly I need to turn off the TV. ;) And get some class prep done. William Morris, here I come!

Things I've Been Thinking About (September Edition)

I realize my posts have been rather slim lately. That's because I've primarily been focused on the dissertation (I'm almost finished the D. H. Lawrence chapter, which will leave only 2 chapters to go--yay!!), the class I'm teaching (we have been discussing Rossetti's "Goblin Market," which is a fun one--they truly enjoy it, which is rare), anything I might want to finish sewing before the new baby comes, and generally staying on top of cooking and cleaning (things I rarely do, but I've been cooking in a renewed effort to economize and by "cleaning" I mean keeping up with tidiness on a day-to-day basis--or almost). You might call it extended nesting. I've been very domestic. :P I'm also a little concerned about the fact that my son wants a Wii for Christmas and there's very little chance that "Santa" will be able to find one. :( At least by itself rather than in a "bundle" for $540. (Lest you think I routinely buy my son $250 Christmas presents, I don't. It would be a "family" present--for ALL of us!--and never the first year out! Generally I wait for prices to go down on game systems, so maybe in 2009. . .)

So what other lofty thoughts have been going through this mind? Well, I'll tell you. . .

1) Harry Potter -- I recently read The Half-Blood Prince when my son checked it out from the school library. I feel slightly guilty about that. I have an ongoing problem with Rowling, and since I have not really seen this one articulated, I will mention it in brief. Basically, it's the goodness or evilness (?) of a given character, and how this personality trait is determined. While Rowling ostensibly resists determinism by giving lip service to how one character could have easily substituted for Harry as the "chosen one," it's not believable. Characters do not really seem to be counted good or evil according to their actions. Whether Harry does good or evil (let's call it "bad," since he is never quite allowed to do evil, just cheating, dark arts spells and the like, which nevertheless go beyond the antics of Fred & George), he is untouchably good. Whether Snape does good or evil, Dumbledore trusts him implicitly, yet the reader is constantly encouraged to judge him as evil (a fact that has bugged me since book 2--I know, I'll read the last book, but the inconsistency is the point). No matter what a Malfoy might do, he's evil (and a little snot, to boot). And yet we are kind of expected to see people as defined by their actions--well, unless you count the bad things that James and Sirius did. Hmmm. . . Well, this Good or Evil predestination or determinism rather comes to a head in Voldemort, who not only does bad things, he is genetically determined to be evil, being last of Slytherin's line and the product of serious inbreeding, a half-blood at that (and resents it) and is raised in an orphanage so he doesn't know nurturing (which means his Slytherin traits really are inbred and not the product of upbringing). Basically, there was never an opportunity for Tom Riddle to say, "You know, I don't think I'll be evil today." And you know what? I find that disturbing.

2) My family is outgrowing our vehicle and our bed. How to fit 2 carseats and a 10-year old in the backseat of a Hyundai Tuscon? Not a clue. And what exactly will we do when a newborn wants to nurse in bed with Momma while a toddler wants to climb in bed for an hour or so? (The bed is a queen and Momma and Daddy aren't really small people.) No, the correct answer isn't turn the toddler out of bed. My husband has speculated that he will be sleeping on the futon in the living room. I don't see that happening. After all, he & I squeezed in a twin with our son when he was a month or so old (long story)! We were arguably a lot smaller then--I know I was, at least!! The toddler bed is making things a lot better, but she still has nights when she isn't comfortable for one reason or another--sometimes gas, sometimes hunger, sometimes overtired or not enough exercise. Who knows? She might go back in her bed more often if I had the inclination to lug 30 lbs. of sleeping toddler across the room, but really, the belly's getting to be enough to carry around! I did read an interesting Mothering article about having a toddler sleep with you--you can find it here. I don't personally like to force young children to sleep in their own beds--or their own rooms. As I see it, they still need us for a while. And if the Von Trapp children hadn't run into Maria's room when they were scared of the storm, we wouldn't have "A Few of Our Favorite Things"!

3) Braxton-Hicks. Lots of them. I don't remember them making it hard to walk. Is this O.K. at this stage?? I realize they get more noticeable each pregnancy, but geez!!

4) Applying for jobs. One in particular. At a Catholic college in Indiana in the middle of nowhere (as far as I can tell). High course load, but it sounds pretty flexible. I could probably end up teaching all over the board--not getting pigeonholed and not teaching theory instead of lit. I can teach theory, but I don't want it to be the focus of my teaching, which means I should go somewhere where I won't have to teach grad students--not really something I feel the need to do anyway. I'm not sure I see the appeal. I mean, really--I wouldn't want to teach someone like me!! ;) But I'm not going to worry about job apps much. I'd love to have a job next year, but I need to do what I'm doing right now without any more distraction than absolutely necessary, and I won't be able to go to major national conference meat market this year anyway (no great loss to my mind).

5) Something morbid (and potentially judgmental) about motherhood in Texas, but I don't really want to write about it or speculate on it. I did once comment to someone--many years ago--that crimes seemed weirder in Texas, or more extreme, or something, and the sheer list of occurrences cited here seems to substantiate that. But the scope of crimes has gotten so weird anyway that I don't know if I would have made that observation today.

6) I love Crocs!!!-- And I'm not terribly worried about them making news recently. We have reached a point recently where each member of the family has a pair of genuine Crocs (imitations can't come close!) and I boast 3 pair. I barely wear anything else. Especially pregnant, and especially since they have relatively "feminine" styles--I don't have the "garden variety" clog (ha ha). But consider this:

According to reports appearing across the United States and as far away as Singapore and Japan, entrapments occur because of two of the biggest selling points of shoes like Crocs: their flexibility and grip. Some report the shoes get caught in the "teeth" at the bottom or top of the escalator, or in the crack between the steps and the side of the escalator.

The reports of serious injuries have all involved young children. Crocs are commonly worn by children as young as 2.

Yup, my baby has a cute little pair of Mary Jane Crocs. But I ask you--which is more unnatural? Having a baby (or even a young child) walk on an escalator (people have gotten stuck in those things before Crocs!), or having her feet wrapped in flexible material that molds to her feet and doesn't restrict her movement? She has yet to have a pair of "traditional" shoes. Because you know what? Bare foot is natural, and soft shoes are the next best thing!!

7) Frequently, I'm thinking about sleep or caffeine. . . Or the fact that my baby will be the first of 3 to be born caffeine-addicted (only by comparison to the other 2). This probably explains why I seem to be unable to come up with anything else I've been thinking about. Bed time!! But anyway, apart from the tired, I've been feeling really well, and I've been better able to keep up with everything that's going on lately than during the entire pregnancy. I'm feeling a bit unwieldy (I'm carrying this baby a bit oddly), but feeling good about where I am right now!

It's not Just for Breastfeeding Mothers Any More!!

But this article about Southwest Airlines rather explains the loophole that allows airlines to get away with telling breastfeeding mothers to do. . . well. . . whatever it is that the flight attendants tell them to do on a given flight--cover up, stop feeding, whatever. It seems that, while Southwest claims not to have a dress code, they also reserve the right to censor passengers' outfits for various reasons, with the result that two women have brought complaints against Southwest for addressing their wardrobe choices:

Setara Qassim said a flight attendant confronted her during the trip from Tucson, Arizona, to Burbank, California, and asked whether she had a sweater to go over her green halter-style dress.

Qassim, 21, told KNBC-TV in Los Angeles she was forced to wrap a blanket around herself for the rest of the flight. She complained that if Southwest wants passengers to dress a certain way, it should publish a dress code.

Last week, 23-year-old Kayla Ebbert said a Southwest employee pulled her aside as she was preparing to board a plane departing San Diego for Tucson in July and told her she was dressed too provocatively to fly.

Ebbert, who took her case to NBC's "Today Show," said she was allowed on the plane after adjusting her sweater and short skirt. She said she was humiliated and felt the stares of other passengers who had overheard the verbal dressing-down.

Now, do you think these women were wearing anything that you haven't seen in Church? Okay, unfair question! ;)

What strikes me first is the rationale behind the censure. One was "dressed too provocatively." There clearly isn't an objective standard for this. I would like to know if the airline employees imposing these guidelines were male or female, fundamentalist, or personally turned on by the passengers' attire. (This reminds me of discussions I've seen on other blogs about whether a sexily dressed woman is responsible for others' "occasions of sin"!) But this is the passage that seemed relevant to breastfeeding in the air:

American Airlines claims the right to refuse to carry passengers for a variety of reasons, including being drunk, barefoot, having an offensive odor or being "clothed in a manner that would cause discomfort or offense to other passengers."

That's pretty broad. The example given is offensive graphics on a t-shirt, but it's not tough to see how breastfeeding falls under this jurisdiction--even if the mother is discreetly covered. (But then, some passengers (and flight attendants) find the presence of children offensive enough anyway. . .) Of course, breastfeeding is an act, not a manner of dress, but certainly if the breast were all or partially exposed, one could anticipate this regulation being invoked. I have breastfed without incident on an airplane, but it was years ago (a bit over 10 years ago, to be precise). It was probably Southwest. But then, I don't like sitting by other people anyway, so there was likely no one there but my husband, and he wouldn't have complained!

Although I Probably Shouldn't Criticize the Ivory Tower. . .

. . .I decided to write this post anyway. Because, well, I'm kind of sick of the same old assumptions--namely, that everyone in academe (indeed! every intelligent person!) feels the same way about political and social issues. And darn it, I've already shown how judgmental I am by saying that parents should be able to have their children around with them if their job is flexible enough to allow it, and that I think that breastfeeding is the preferable choice for infants and mothers. And since everyone already knows what kind of fascist I am--I even think I'm better than the people in front of me in the grocery store when they're putting six-packs of store-brand sodas, no-name frozen dinners or tubs of hydrogenated lard on the conveyor while I painstakingly pore over ingredients lists (Intense Chocolate Ice Cream notwithstanding)--I'll just go ahead and say my peace and invite the increased scorn of the non-judgmental types out there.

I think it all started (the post, that is), when I was working in the computer lab in my department before my class and looked up to see posted a list of proposed bumper sticker slogans--most of them mocking the intelligence of the president with such mature witticisms as "Bad President! No banana!" Not able to help myself, I wrote on the page (yes, it was me), "Show me a viable candidate, and I'll show you another country." My utter disgust with the two-party system is increasing daily as I watch the candidate pool fester. Later this evening, I received an email about an upcoming lecture sponsored by our department featuring the author of a book about how wacky conservatives are anti-education for criticizing an imagined liberal "bias" in education (the quotes are in the title, implying the ridiculousness of the term) and also conflating the use of "liberal" as in "liberal politics" and "Liberal Arts," implying that the two are equal, or at least necessary compliments to one another. DISCLAIMER: So far, much of my information on this book has been gleaned from reviews, albeit favorable reviews. Doing a little further research, I was able to read the review of the book posted by none other than Amanda Marcotte on her blog, where she issues the disclaimer (of sorts) that she had, indeed, guess-hosted the blog of our illustrious guest-lecturer. Of course, those are credentials enough, no?

But in spite of any hostility you might detect, the point of this post is not to attack the politics of my peers or my department. For one thing, I generally don't assume that I know who votes for whom or with which party my colleagues cast their allegiances--that's judgmental for you! Nor do I conflate methodology with ideology--I recognize that just because someone favors marxist criticism, that person does not necessarily subscribe to Marxism, just as having worked with ecocriticsm doesn't mean I contribute to GreenPeace, and the fact that I've written about motherhood doesn't make me a mother. . . Oh, wait. . . That is, the fact that I've written about transvestism doesn't make me a. . . well. . . (just kidding!) On the other hand, I don't tend to use methodologies that represent ideologies to which I object on moral grounds. Sometimes I incorporate them in order to question them, but I digress. . .

At this moment of angst, realizing that I, like all in academia, have been pre-judged (oh wait, I'm the judgmental one!) as liberal (in the non-classical sense)--not by wacky conservatives (no offense), but by fellow-academics, I was pleased to see that someone much more tenured than I (and in my own discipline, too!) has addressed this issue. Today on a site called Minding the Campus, Mark Bauerlein, Professor of English at Emory and former Director of Research and Analysis for the NEA, published an article titled, "I'm O.K., You're Not O.K." He responds in part to an essay in this month's Academe written by one Julie Kilmer and titled, "Reclaim Your Rights as a Liberal Educator." Kilmer's article, according to Bauerlein, seeks to combat the power plays by conservative student groups such as Students for Academic Freedom (sounds menacing, no?) from the weak and vulnerable position of tenured faculty (pause for audible snicker). Here is one notable passage:

With such vast disparities between the threat professors envision and the actual security they enjoy, one would think that more people would recognize the problem of ideological bias on campus. But they don't, and the reason lies in a campus advent that has nothing to do with psychology. Instead, it's a sweeping sleight-of-hand that liberal professors have executed in their discipline. We see it operating in this very essay in Academe, and in the sentences I just quoted. Did you spot it? Professor Kilmer worries that a student who "is resistant to feminist theories and ideas" may sit in her class as a "plant," someone to incriminate her and send her upstairs for punishment. That's how she interprets uncongenial students, and it's an astounding conversion. In her class, any student who contests feminist notions falls under a cloud of suspicion. The ordinary run of skeptics, obstructionists, gadflies, wiseacres, and sulkers that show up in almost every undergraduate classroom is recast as an ideological cadre. If a student in a marketing class were to dispute the morality of the whole endeavor, no doubt liberal professors would salute him as a noble dissenter. But when he criticizes feminism, he violates a trust. He doesn't just pose intellectual disagreement. He transgresses classroom protocol.


I was the kind of undergraduate Dr. Kilmer would have hated. Not only did I work in opposition to feminism--even while taking courses that focused on, say, women in art history (the professor's feminism was weak at best, but she did try)--I even went so far as to point out the incompetence and blatant racism of an African-American professor, and won my appeal to retroactively drop the class. Don't ask me why I'm writing a dissertation. Just sick, I guess. Because here, in the same article, is reference to one of the obstacles I fear on the job market:

An ideology has become a measure of responsibility. A partisan belief is professional etiquette. A controversial outlook is an academic norm. Political bias suffuses the principles of scattered disciplines. Advocacy stands as normal and proper pedagogy. That's the sleight-of-hand, and it activates in far too many decisions in curriculum, grading, hiring, and promotion. I remember a committee meeting to discuss hiring a 19th-century literature specialist when one person announced, "We can only consider people who do race." For her, "doing race" wasn't a political or ideological preference. It was a disciplinary prerequisite.

I don't "do race." I don't "do feminism." I don't even "do Marxism." I can do Post-Colonialism, but I don't make a habit out of it. One of the authors I work on is homosexual, but I don't think it's all that important in the grand scheme of his work, and I've got a woman in my dissertation, but I didn't want her there in the first place. Face it, I'm screwed.

And here's why:

In the subsequent essay in Academe, "Impassioned Teaching," women's studies professor Pamela L. Caughie of Loyola University (Chicago) asserts, "In teaching students its [feminism's] history, its forms, and its impact, I am teaching them to think and write as feminists." So much for the vaunted critical thinking professors prize, and the injunction that they question orthodoxy and convention. Caughie aims to produce versions of herself. And it's more than an ego trip - it's a professional duty: "I feel I am doing my job well when students become practitioners of feminist analysis and committed to feminist politics" (emphasis added).

I don't want my students to think like me. Really. I like it when I can teach them to communicate to me why it is that they think the way they do and move towards convincing me. I admit that I was elated when I taught a student to be open-minded about the homosexuality in Plato's Symposium. But that was for Plato's sake, and for the student's enlightenment--that he was able to access one of the world's great philosophical tracts without letting his personal prejudices interfere, not because he would go out and vote for gay marriage.

Remember when you were told as an undergraduate (or as early as high school) that as long as you agreed with the professor, you'd pass? Don't look now--from what I'm hearing, it might be true:

We end up with indoctrination passing as proper teaching. When Kilmer states, "What happens to the feminist classroom when students challenge feminist principle?" we might respond, "An energetic discussion follows." But for Kilmer, it means disruption and intimidation. By her own admission, she can no longer distinguish honest disagreement from insubordinate conduct. That's what happens when disciplines admit ideology into their grounds. Accept the ideology and you're sure to advance. You're okay. Decline it, and you're not okay. You're not only wrong - you're illegitimate.

I would likely be less cynical had I experiences to the contrary, and to be fair, not all of my colleagues do this. But I have heard enough about the students' conservatism at the university where I teach, and witnessed enough attempts to sway the students' beliefs--including their fairly strong Christian faith (which, admittedly, could do with some challenges--but to strengthen not destroy). I realized after the summer semester that I was having a hard time teaching Gilman's Herland--the students didn't buy the feminist arguments and I couldn't either, and I didn't care. I couldn't make them see the "good side" of the utopia. They won. I'm teaching William Morris's News from Nowhere as my utopia this semester. I wonder, will socialism fare any better? I look at it this way, it's pastoral. Next time I'll just "do" dystopia.