When I entered grad school, really I thought I'd be working with Victorian poetry. Perhaps Modernist poetry. Maybe Yeats. I did not think I would be working on prose and I certainly didn't think I would be working on Modernist fiction. Except that the only grad course I took on Victorian poetry was really, really boring. And the courses I took that included poetry generally did so out of a sense of obligation rather than interest, and I was really never taught how one writes graduate or professional-level papers/articles about poetry (and though my undergrad prep was good, it's not the same). Still, I toyed with the idea of doing something with metaphor or something with ecocritisism. But it just didn't take off, because that's not what I was really doing in my seminars. Two trends emerged: my papers confronted feminism on the issue of motherhood, especially using gothic literature, or they did this literacy thing. And, well, the literacy thing felt more innovative, and could be applied more broadly. Besides, I didn't want to teach Mary Wollstonecraft (gothic) and I didn't want to teach American Lit (poetry & American gothic). So I rediscovered Modernism. That was where most of my coursework was anyway. Even so, though, I hate Henry James, Ford Maddox Ford bores me (though he might have some Catholic issues to explore), wasn't too keen on Lawrence, didn't like Woolf. . . But I like Forster. And I like Huxley. So they were a starting point. I also like WWI. A lot. It caused an intellectual crisis of huge proportions. Anxiety. Loss of faith in civilization. . . . a heap of broken images. . . Whoopee! That's what hooked me on these guys to begin with! Except, well, I don't revel in despair anymore. Though I still like W. H. Auden's poetry. But I like expressions of despair, and of human continuation in the face of despair. So anyway, it seems I'm a Modernist, having just written a big 'ol dissertation on these guys. (Really, I like Modernism. I promise.)
So after talking to my committee member on Friday, I am settling down to read some of what I need to read to get me up to speed. (Funny thing. . . Woolf is my least favorite, but I am told--not surprisingly--that that's what most people will want me to teach. Ugh!) Most of what I have read of the big Modernist novelists I have done on my own. I read A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man in high school, for example--loved it. Stephen Daedalus is all about teen angst. And I was in my anti-Catholic phase, so that was O.K. When I reread it for prelims, I hated it. The Catholic stuff was interesting, as I now had a context from which to understand it, but Stephen Daedalus needed to get over himself in a big way. I understood that now as I did not when I was 15. Go figure. Of course, Dubliners is brilliant, but it's not in fashion anymore. It's like "Joyce for Dummies." Real scholars read Ulysses. Really really real scholars read Finnegan's Wake. Maybe one day when the kids are grown up. Until then, I have more important things to do with my time.
So I'm reading Lawrence's Women in Love. It's supposed to be one of his best. Which is good, 'cause it's 400 pages and Lawrence generally needed to learn when to stop writing. Perhaps this one will be different. Sons and Lovers is in my dissertation. I've got some short stories under my belt (read "Horse Dealer's Daughter"?--hated it). I read Lady Chatterley's Lover, like so many adolescents, and felt utterly cheated. Although I did latch on to a phrase or two about things I had no idea about at the time. And I'd look back and think, "Hmmm. . . was Lawrence right?" not knowing that Lawrence is generally wrong. In a big way. But what strikes me now is not his wrongness, or his frustrating tendencies, or his inability to find synonyms for the word "hate," but his absolute silliness. His self-conscious (oh how he hated self-consciousness) attempts at sensuality, eroticism. Especially masculine-flavored eroticism. It makes me giggle. And it was so scandalous at the time. And I would have felt differently 15 years ago. But really, all this talk of muscles and maleness and moustaches, hair and skin and animals, fountains and jets and streams. Really, I can't help but chuckle. Has the writing always been this absurd, and I can just see it now? And if so, then why didn't his contemporaries dismiss it as such instead of being scandalized? Or is my "maturity" and the culture's acceptance of Lawrence in all his over-sexed silliness just a symptom of our desensitization in the area of sexuality? I pause more now over his declarations about God's non-existence (which he--unlike Joyce--takes as a given, or tries to) than over his erotic imagery. Does that say more about me, or about the writing?
Monday, April 7, 2008
Saturday, April 5, 2008
So what do you want to do?
I thought that with a Ph.D., the answer to that would be pretty clear. Even to those relatively unfamiliar with academia. So imagine my surprise when I got a version of that question from one of my committee members!! Granted, it was phrased rather differently. First, he asked where I wanted to teach, what kind of flexibility I had in terms of following a job (that was the "what's your husband going to do" and "will he follow you" question), how I'm going to market myself, and, finally, whether I want to be a "publishing" academic. Ummm. . . 'cause we have a choice, but okay. . . Even schools that really value teaching over publication--as evidenced by the high teaching loads required at those schools--feel the need to put a clause in their job ads about publishing & scholarly activity. I'm not sure what the rationale is. Maybe they feel like they need to include that kind of thing in order to attract up-and-coming new Ph.D.s, or maybe they really do feel like there should be a publishing component for academics at their (mostly smaller) colleges. I don't quite see a 4-4 load being compatible with a publishing career. And I don't see a 4-4 load being compatible with me. Writing and research for publication can be accomplished with babies around. Teaching 4 classes a semester--not so much. And the schools with the higher teaching loads don't tend to pay more.
But actually, I do see myself publishing. I like academic writing. I think some of my ideas might benefit the literary community. It sounds arrogant, but you have to think that kind of thing to play this game. And, well, you have to think that what you're doing is at least as interesting as what others are doing, perhaps more interesting. I'm pretty much there--no surprises. I do wonder what will stimulate new ideas, though. I can get some mileage from the literacy thing. I can get some mileage from ideas left over from coursework, and Catholicism might creep in somewhere, somehow. The "must write to complete course" and "must write to finish degree" will be replaced by "must write to publish" and "must write to get promotion/tenure." I suppose that the "ideas generated by coursework" will be replaced by "ideas generated by teaching" and "ideas generated by conferences" and "ideas generated by further reading." But you know, it feels different. I guess it will happen.
As for the other questions, I couldn't exactly say that I would apply for anything I seemed remotely qualified for. That may not be precisely true, anyway. I would prefer to teach literature, but I may be seen as attractive because of rhetoric. But I don't really know rhetoric. I am flexible enough to go anywhere, but there are some places I really don't want to live. And you know, being here for almost 9 years has spoiled me. I know what doctors to see, what schools are good, and I know it's safe to take a walk in the park. There is a disturbing lack of good Catholic education, but there are rumors about that changing. There is a disturbing lack of culture, but there is a reassuring lack of crime. It's not a bad place to raise a family, just a boring place. Anyway, the next year(s) will be an adventure! I wonder how often I will have to answer/ponder these same questions in the coming weeks and months?
But actually, I do see myself publishing. I like academic writing. I think some of my ideas might benefit the literary community. It sounds arrogant, but you have to think that kind of thing to play this game. And, well, you have to think that what you're doing is at least as interesting as what others are doing, perhaps more interesting. I'm pretty much there--no surprises. I do wonder what will stimulate new ideas, though. I can get some mileage from the literacy thing. I can get some mileage from ideas left over from coursework, and Catholicism might creep in somewhere, somehow. The "must write to complete course" and "must write to finish degree" will be replaced by "must write to publish" and "must write to get promotion/tenure." I suppose that the "ideas generated by coursework" will be replaced by "ideas generated by teaching" and "ideas generated by conferences" and "ideas generated by further reading." But you know, it feels different. I guess it will happen.
As for the other questions, I couldn't exactly say that I would apply for anything I seemed remotely qualified for. That may not be precisely true, anyway. I would prefer to teach literature, but I may be seen as attractive because of rhetoric. But I don't really know rhetoric. I am flexible enough to go anywhere, but there are some places I really don't want to live. And you know, being here for almost 9 years has spoiled me. I know what doctors to see, what schools are good, and I know it's safe to take a walk in the park. There is a disturbing lack of good Catholic education, but there are rumors about that changing. There is a disturbing lack of culture, but there is a reassuring lack of crime. It's not a bad place to raise a family, just a boring place. Anyway, the next year(s) will be an adventure! I wonder how often I will have to answer/ponder these same questions in the coming weeks and months?
Friday, April 4, 2008
Life with a Toddler
This evening, my husband said to me,
Should I turn this [tape] off, wander back [to our bedroom] with her [to put her to bed]--and fall asleep so she can play bongos on my nose or something?
And I laughed until tears ran down my cheeks.
Should I turn this [tape] off, wander back [to our bedroom] with her [to put her to bed]--and fall asleep so she can play bongos on my nose or something?
And I laughed until tears ran down my cheeks.
Thursday, April 3, 2008
IT'S FINISHED!!!!!!!!!
[Doing a little dance around the apartment]
The final touches have been put on the dissertation conclusion! (Believe me, the use of passive voice is intentional and appropriate.) Without the works cited, it is 219 pages, 65,887 words, and 348, 083 characters (without spaces). Now I get to photocopy it in all of its tree-killing immensity, and deliver it to my committee. And while I know that this is not the FINAL final copy, and that there is a bit more to the process, still. . .
It's finished, it's finished, it's finished, it's finished. . .
The final touches have been put on the dissertation conclusion! (Believe me, the use of passive voice is intentional and appropriate.) Without the works cited, it is 219 pages, 65,887 words, and 348, 083 characters (without spaces). Now I get to photocopy it in all of its tree-killing immensity, and deliver it to my committee. And while I know that this is not the FINAL final copy, and that there is a bit more to the process, still. . .
It's finished, it's finished, it's finished, it's finished. . .
Portrait of an Academic Mom
This evening as I sat on the sofa writing what will be some of the final pages of my dissertation, my 2-year-old daughter, who had, a little while before, put on the DVD of The Empire Strikes Back, climbed into my lap, leaned her head on my shoulder, and fell asleep between my iBook and I as I continued to type. :)
Tuesday, April 1, 2008
Okay, So I Might Graduate. . .
Actually, it's looking pretty certain these days. I'm finishing up the dissertation now (well, no, not now exactly, but you know what I mean. . .), and my defense is set for May 5. I have to have a good copy to my committee by Friday so they can, like, read it and stuff. So eventually, I figure, I should get a job. Well, I guess first I have to look and apply for some jobs. So I was wondering. . .
Since becoming Catholic, I have been thinking, Gee, wouldn't it be nice to teach at a nice Catholic school? Then I could raise the kinds of questions that you can't raise in a state school where you're supposed to respect everyone's religious identity to the point of annihilating your own (like when, post 9-11, one prof voluntarily removed his Divinity Degree from the wall, and another was advised to hide her icons!!), and where there would, presumably, be some sense of Catholic identity, and opportunities for faith formation among the faculty and. . . well, that's the kind of thing I was thinking. Except that even in the first fervor of conversion, I wasn't sure Ave Maria or Steubenville would be for me. I'm an orthodox kind of gal, but I'm not ready for any Catholic versions of those protestant colleges that won't let faculty drink alcohol (yet the one I have in mind has the bar and cash register from the Bird and the Baby--the Eagle and Child pub where the Inklings met--in its library--yeah. . .), and I believe that those schools might be a teensy evangelical in flavor for a recovering protestant.
So then I found the blogosphere. Specifically, the Catholic blogosphere. And I learned that not all Catholic colleges are created equal. And that precious few are deemed "Catholic enough" for the orthodox crowd who want their kids to have a degree. I've been to a bunch of the web sites that give you the scoop on the adherence of the various Catholic colleges to the Magesterium, read many a lament about the state of Catholic higher education, many tirades against the Jesuits, and, frankly, I'm confused. The scholarly, prominent Catholic universities with whom every new Ph.D. would LOVE to have an interview are apparently unworthy of being termed Catholic, while the most orthodox of all hire mainly clergy or have 5-person English departments or 300-student enrollments and the ones in between have low pay, high teaching loads, nominal research requirements--not the kind of place to go, in short, if teaching and research are on your agenda, that is, if you want your ideas to be heard by the scholarly community. So is it worth investigating positions at Catholic colleges at all? If you risk being associated with heterodoxy or heresy, or exposed to and manipulated by such ideas? If, by avoiding those pitfalls, you are compromising the chance of having a Catholic voice in the cacophany of scholarly opinions? Not to mention compromising your ability to pay those loans--you know, the ones that are equal to or surpass the price of a really nice house? The ones that you will not pay off before you die? The ones that are, in fact, a lease on your education rather than a purchase? Yeah, those. Is it O.K. for a Catholic academic to take a position at a Catholic college or university that is Catholic in name only? In hopes of influencing others, maybe? Or do you just give up on Catholic education altogether in order to avoid this sticky issue?
Since becoming Catholic, I have been thinking, Gee, wouldn't it be nice to teach at a nice Catholic school? Then I could raise the kinds of questions that you can't raise in a state school where you're supposed to respect everyone's religious identity to the point of annihilating your own (like when, post 9-11, one prof voluntarily removed his Divinity Degree from the wall, and another was advised to hide her icons!!), and where there would, presumably, be some sense of Catholic identity, and opportunities for faith formation among the faculty and. . . well, that's the kind of thing I was thinking. Except that even in the first fervor of conversion, I wasn't sure Ave Maria or Steubenville would be for me. I'm an orthodox kind of gal, but I'm not ready for any Catholic versions of those protestant colleges that won't let faculty drink alcohol (yet the one I have in mind has the bar and cash register from the Bird and the Baby--the Eagle and Child pub where the Inklings met--in its library--yeah. . .), and I believe that those schools might be a teensy evangelical in flavor for a recovering protestant.
So then I found the blogosphere. Specifically, the Catholic blogosphere. And I learned that not all Catholic colleges are created equal. And that precious few are deemed "Catholic enough" for the orthodox crowd who want their kids to have a degree. I've been to a bunch of the web sites that give you the scoop on the adherence of the various Catholic colleges to the Magesterium, read many a lament about the state of Catholic higher education, many tirades against the Jesuits, and, frankly, I'm confused. The scholarly, prominent Catholic universities with whom every new Ph.D. would LOVE to have an interview are apparently unworthy of being termed Catholic, while the most orthodox of all hire mainly clergy or have 5-person English departments or 300-student enrollments and the ones in between have low pay, high teaching loads, nominal research requirements--not the kind of place to go, in short, if teaching and research are on your agenda, that is, if you want your ideas to be heard by the scholarly community. So is it worth investigating positions at Catholic colleges at all? If you risk being associated with heterodoxy or heresy, or exposed to and manipulated by such ideas? If, by avoiding those pitfalls, you are compromising the chance of having a Catholic voice in the cacophany of scholarly opinions? Not to mention compromising your ability to pay those loans--you know, the ones that are equal to or surpass the price of a really nice house? The ones that you will not pay off before you die? The ones that are, in fact, a lease on your education rather than a purchase? Yeah, those. Is it O.K. for a Catholic academic to take a position at a Catholic college or university that is Catholic in name only? In hopes of influencing others, maybe? Or do you just give up on Catholic education altogether in order to avoid this sticky issue?
Sunday, March 30, 2008
Sunday, March 23, 2008
Happy Easter!!
Hope everyone's Lent was what they wanted it to be. . .
I am back for a brief hello, but I will probably not be returning to my old blogging habits--at least for a while. I will keep posting family updates, and will stop by here from time to time.
Lent was not particularly spiritual for me, regrettably. Easter was beautiful, as always. The Triduum I watched parts on EWTN--not really the same, but about all high spirited toddlerhood allows. I had many parenting ups & downs; the latest: potty-training! Aaaah!!! I started an online diet but stopped because it was taking as much time as blogging. But wanna know something crazy? In the first 2 weeks of not blogging, I wrote a 47-page chapter (some of the material was recycled) and scheduled my defense (mark "Pray for Literacy-chic" on your calendars for May 5)!! I also finished an additional chapter. So I have good drafts of all 5 of my chapters--some of which are quite exciting for me--and only have the conclusion left to do. This I need to finish in the next week or so so that I can give the full draft to the committee in early April. I received a revise and resubmit on a journal article (wait, you know that, don't you?), received my assignment for the Summer--to teach Science Fiction--applied for and got a post-doc lectureship for the fall, applied for one last grad student award for summer (not counting on it) and still felt like I was more attentive to my little girls at home. WOW! It has been a blessed Lent, no? My position for fall is special, too, but I'm not at liberty to divulge too much (especially online--sorry!!). It carries a reduced teaching load, one upper-level team-taught course, and some administrative duties that will be very good vita fodder--it's a good thing someone's looking out for me, because I need all the vita help I can get. (Two pregnancies don't count for much on a job search!) I'm working on the kinks right now, but I have some time & options (I think). . . This might explain why I plan on making myself scarce. I've also got assistantship duties to wrap up in a big way in coming weeks. But it's all pretty exciting. Taking "off" Lent to seriously evaluate whether I could still accomplish all of this was a good idea, I think, and I feel less guilty for not giving up any food items! I do regret that I didn't do as much spiritual preparation as I would like, though I know the opportunities for spiritual development are not limited to Lent. I will be an RCIA sponsor for someone (don't want to say too much about that until I know I am at liberty to do so) in the next RCIA "cycle"--yay!! That will be an opportunity for spiritual development in itself. As a side-note, I am investigating St. Benedict medals for my sister's apartment because everyone who stays there--including her!--has back-to-back nightmares of scenarios with people dying. My mother experienced it last night. *shudder* Anyone have any experience with St. Benedict medals?
I think I have rambled to the end of this post. I will check back, probably once or twice a week (if I can maintain the discipline). Until then, Happy Easter! May the blessings of the season be with all of you!
I am back for a brief hello, but I will probably not be returning to my old blogging habits--at least for a while. I will keep posting family updates, and will stop by here from time to time.
Lent was not particularly spiritual for me, regrettably. Easter was beautiful, as always. The Triduum I watched parts on EWTN--not really the same, but about all high spirited toddlerhood allows. I had many parenting ups & downs; the latest: potty-training! Aaaah!!! I started an online diet but stopped because it was taking as much time as blogging. But wanna know something crazy? In the first 2 weeks of not blogging, I wrote a 47-page chapter (some of the material was recycled) and scheduled my defense (mark "Pray for Literacy-chic" on your calendars for May 5)!! I also finished an additional chapter. So I have good drafts of all 5 of my chapters--some of which are quite exciting for me--and only have the conclusion left to do. This I need to finish in the next week or so so that I can give the full draft to the committee in early April. I received a revise and resubmit on a journal article (wait, you know that, don't you?), received my assignment for the Summer--to teach Science Fiction--applied for and got a post-doc lectureship for the fall, applied for one last grad student award for summer (not counting on it) and still felt like I was more attentive to my little girls at home. WOW! It has been a blessed Lent, no? My position for fall is special, too, but I'm not at liberty to divulge too much (especially online--sorry!!). It carries a reduced teaching load, one upper-level team-taught course, and some administrative duties that will be very good vita fodder--it's a good thing someone's looking out for me, because I need all the vita help I can get. (Two pregnancies don't count for much on a job search!) I'm working on the kinks right now, but I have some time & options (I think). . . This might explain why I plan on making myself scarce. I've also got assistantship duties to wrap up in a big way in coming weeks. But it's all pretty exciting. Taking "off" Lent to seriously evaluate whether I could still accomplish all of this was a good idea, I think, and I feel less guilty for not giving up any food items! I do regret that I didn't do as much spiritual preparation as I would like, though I know the opportunities for spiritual development are not limited to Lent. I will be an RCIA sponsor for someone (don't want to say too much about that until I know I am at liberty to do so) in the next RCIA "cycle"--yay!! That will be an opportunity for spiritual development in itself. As a side-note, I am investigating St. Benedict medals for my sister's apartment because everyone who stays there--including her!--has back-to-back nightmares of scenarios with people dying. My mother experienced it last night. *shudder* Anyone have any experience with St. Benedict medals?
I think I have rambled to the end of this post. I will check back, probably once or twice a week (if I can maintain the discipline). Until then, Happy Easter! May the blessings of the season be with all of you!
Wednesday, February 6, 2008
Blog Closed for Lent
See you in 40 days or so!
In the meantime, check out the Catholic Carnival! And buy Mystic Monk Coffee! And enjoy my 3 "Quick Lenten Meals" suggestions from last year!
In the meantime, check out the Catholic Carnival! And buy Mystic Monk Coffee! And enjoy my 3 "Quick Lenten Meals" suggestions from last year!
Tuesday, February 5, 2008
Happy Mardi Gras -and- an short academic aside
I had to squeeze in a last post before midnight. Happy Mardi Gras! Have a spiritual Lent! (You can't wish someone a "happy Lent," can you?) I will be away, but you know where to find me (psst! the profile). Also, for the record, I received some bad news today that in the perverse nature of academia, I'm probably supposed to regard as good news. A chapter of my dissertation in article form was rejected. Well, what at first read as a rejection was actually a fairly enthusiastic revise and resubmit. The problem? With all of their good submissions (which vex me because they are doing a special topic on--what else?--reading), they can't wait around for me to make the revisions, which will be very easy since my whole project deals with exactly what they're asking me to clarify. This is part of trying to take something out of a larger work and make it stand alone. However, they returned the results to me 5 months later than they were supposed to. Now their "schedule won't permit"--thanks, guys. On the other hand, once I get over being deflated, I should really have something to work with.
Monday, February 4, 2008
Baptism Reflections. . .
On Sunday, during Mass, we witnessed the Baptism of three infants, and while the addition of half an hour or so is typically not the best thing with a temperamental toddler who is, nevertheless, getting better about staying in the pew, the Rite was very well integrated into the Mass and oriented those present towards the meaning of the Sacrament in a quiet yet profound and even scholarly way. It was nice to see the Baptism, as it always is, though I was a bit sad to note that all of the babies seemed younger than mine, whose Baptism we have been planning for. . . well, months now, but our plans have really been coming together in the last few weeks. I sometimes forget, now, that the importance of Baptism was something that I rejected initially as a mere display--an impression I received from other churches--then because I did not hold with the idea that a newborn could be "tainted" by anything. But I grew gradually to doubt my own certainty, losing faith in my skepticism, until fear that Baptism might be necessary to Salvation gave way to acceptance and faith. It was the biggest step in my conversion process to accept the necessity of Baptism, and I first considered the possibility of its truth for the sake of my family--particularly my son. I couldn't have anticipated the fullness of what it came to signify for me. . .
Apart from the Grace of the Sacrament, Baptism is a gift that I give to my children so that they will always have the Church as a spiritual home--a place where they belong. I know that there are many who were raised Catholic who don't now feel this way, never have felt this way, or never will again. But in the stories of Catholics who have returned to the Church after being away for a period of time, there is always the sense of returning home. I felt this way myself, though I was not baptized Catholic as an infant. I knew that both of my parents were raised Catholic, that my aunts and uncles were raised Catholic, that my grandmother was devoutly Catholic in her way, that many of the older adults I encountered were Catholic, their houses adorned with the trappings of Catholicism. So when I decided, finally, to become Catholic myself, I had a sense of returning home--of being where I belonged.
We have scheduled my little daughter's Baptism for March 1--an oasis in the desert of Lent--and this is what I wish for her: to be initiated into the Catholic Church as a spiritual home, where she can belong, to which she can always return, and where she can learn (about God), and grow (towards God), and thrive (in His Grace).
Apart from the Grace of the Sacrament, Baptism is a gift that I give to my children so that they will always have the Church as a spiritual home--a place where they belong. I know that there are many who were raised Catholic who don't now feel this way, never have felt this way, or never will again. But in the stories of Catholics who have returned to the Church after being away for a period of time, there is always the sense of returning home. I felt this way myself, though I was not baptized Catholic as an infant. I knew that both of my parents were raised Catholic, that my aunts and uncles were raised Catholic, that my grandmother was devoutly Catholic in her way, that many of the older adults I encountered were Catholic, their houses adorned with the trappings of Catholicism. So when I decided, finally, to become Catholic myself, I had a sense of returning home--of being where I belonged.
We have scheduled my little daughter's Baptism for March 1--an oasis in the desert of Lent--and this is what I wish for her: to be initiated into the Catholic Church as a spiritual home, where she can belong, to which she can always return, and where she can learn (about God), and grow (towards God), and thrive (in His Grace).
Sunday, February 3, 2008
Fall Plans Dashed
I realized with glee recently that next fall my toddler would be the right age to start school at the Montessori school that my son attending from pre-K through 3rd grade. (I consider 3 yrs to be a good age to start preschool.) I called the school and spoke to the headmistress. She was very pleased, asked about my son, and said she would send the application. The application arrived in the mail several days later, I opened it, and my jaw nearly dropped. There is a one-time application fee of $250!!! That's on top of the $100 registration fee and the advance payment of the last month's tuition, which in our case would have been $245 for 3 half-days a week. Surely, I thought, this must be a typo!! I remembered a fee of $25. So I wrote an email and asked. She confirmed that there was, indeed, a $250 application fee, and hoped it would not change my plans. This will indeed change my plans. I can only conclude that she must have needed to institute that fee to limit applicants. I understand about the last months' tuition, the supply fees, and the registration fees, but had I had to pay $350 for merely applying and registering in addition to the last month's tuition (which in our current case would have been $245 for 3 half-days), I would never have been able to send my son in the first place, and he would have missed a wonderful experience because of it. I am assuming that we simply don't have the income level of most of the families who currently attend that school. And I told her so. In no uncertain terms. Perhaps that is the point. But this makes me very sad, as I can't imagine an alternative that would be as attractive. Clearly, my selectivity is exceeding my income. :(
Saturday, February 2, 2008
Random Bullets before Lent
Things I should give up for Lent for wholly unspiritual reasons:
Thing(s) I want to give up for Lent for wholly unspiritual reasons:
Things I should do more of during Lent (in no specific order):
Things I have thought about recently (in wholly unconnected ways):
What have you been thinking about?
*In fact, I think we owe it to the brothers to step up our coffee consumption during Lent so that we will need to purchase more, thus contributing more to help them to establish their monastery in the mountains of Wyoming.
- French fries
- Chocolate
- Coffee (unless it's Mystic Monk coffee*)
- Dr. Pepper
- eBay
- Sewing!!
Thing(s) I want to give up for Lent for wholly unspiritual reasons:
- Housework!!
Things I should do more of during Lent (in no specific order):
- Pray
- Write a dissertation
- Play with a toddler
- Spend time with a 'tween (I only use the term as a tribute to Tolkien)
- Read (anything, really)
- Meditate
- Exercise
- Cook (especially meals from monastery cookbooks!)
- Think happy thoughts!
- Recognize the beauty around me (physical and spiritual)
Things I have thought about recently (in wholly unconnected ways):
- The very natural-seeming portrayal of Tevye's relationship with God in Fiddler on the Roof
- Whether the Tevye stories would be worth finding & reading
- Undergraduate & graduate education and the right relationship between the two
- More job market issues
- Children's media and the very excellent show "Charlie and Lola"
- Breastfeeding & NFP
- Hormones, mental health& genetics, and panic attacks (little ones)
- The beauty of children
- The difficulty of children
- All that stuff about children & relationships that didn't seem relevant until child #3
- Upcoming Baptism plans (March 1!)
What have you been thinking about?
*In fact, I think we owe it to the brothers to step up our coffee consumption during Lent so that we will need to purchase more, thus contributing more to help them to establish their monastery in the mountains of Wyoming.
Tuesday, January 29, 2008
Another Book Meme!!
Courtesy of Chris, who didn't know if I'd be able to finish this one before Lent. Clearly he underestimates my procrastination! ;) This one's easier than it looks. But I have to ask those people I tag to pleeease answer it before Lent so I can read it!!! ;) Either that, or email the answers! So this is Eva's Reading Meme:
Which book do you irrationally cringe away from reading, despite seeing only positive reviews?
Ulysses? No, that's not irrational. . . I know there's one that I'm not thinking of, but I can't put my finger on it.
Perhaps House on Mango Street by Sandra Cisneros. . .
There are more, I'm sure of it!
If you could bring three characters to life for a social event (afternoon tea, a night of clubbing, perhaps a world cruise), who would they be and what would the event be?
The vengeful answer: I would bring Stephen Daedalus, Leonard Bast, and Septimus Smith for a class in literary theory taught by a professor who deserves the "challenge." (suppresses wicked laughter)
I was trying to think of some wise, long-lived characters. . . Treebeard, Oisin (Celtic, from Yeats' poetry), but I get stuck on #3. . .
I know! Orlando, Dorian Grey and Lazarus Long at a Revival meeting or on Boubon Street for Mardi Gras. . .
Clearly, my mind is a bit warped right now!
(Borrowing shamelessly from the Thursday Next series by Jasper Fforde): you are told you can’t die until you read the most boring novel on the planet. While this immortality is great for awhile, eventually you realize it’s past time to die. Which book would you expect to get you a nice grave?
Moby Dick.
Come on, we’ve all been there. Which book have you pretended, or at least hinted, that you’ve read, when in fact you’ve been nowhere near it?
Toni Morrison's Beloved. Even tried to read it while teaching it one semester. Didn't happen. And oh so many things that have been assigned over the years, from Death of a Salesman in high school on down to the Ph.D. reading list. Usually I admit to not reading them, but not always--especially when grades are involved. There. Now you know what a slacker I am!!!
As an addition to the last question, has there been a book that you really thought you had read, only to realize when you read a review about it/go to ‘reread’ it that you haven’t?
I always get Love in the Time of Cholera confused with Of Love and Other Demons. Specifically, I told Chris I had read the former, thinking that it was the latter. Oops!!
You’re interviewing for the post of Official Book Advisor to some VIP (who’s not a big reader). What’s the first book you’d recommend and why? (if you feel like you’d have to know the person, go ahead and personalize the VIP)
Lord of the Rings. I know, probably not fair using the same one twice (see below). Not because it's practically useful. Then I might choose The Republic or The Prince, or even Mill's On Liberty. But there's a sense of heroism, amid almost certain defeat, or victory that contains elements of defeat, that is simply unfathomable to so many people today. I was actually thinking about this as a Disney preschool show was coming on this morning (before I could get to the remote control): "Higgleytown Heroes." The premise is that everyone--even those who do the most mundane jobs--are heroes because they provide a service to other people. Ummmm. . . in a word, No. Just no.
A good fairy comes and grants you one wish: you will have perfect reading comprehension in the foreign language of your choice. Which language do you go with?
I would have to go with Spanish. I sneered at Spanish and was a French snob in high school and college, before meeting my husband, who is fluent and has an M.A. in Spanish. When we were dating, he introduced me to Spanish literature, poetry in particular. So many times when he was in his Master's program, I wished that I could have taken the classes he was taking--again, mostly poetry, but also nineteenth and twentieth century Peninsular literature (as in, from the Peninsula--Spain--in case you didn't think I was still a European language snob!) and Octavio Paz. I would also like to do some comparisons between Spanish and English literature within my time period.
A mischievous fairy comes and says that you must choose one book that you will reread once a year for the rest of your life (you can read other books as well). Which book would you pick?
Ahem. Lord of the Rings. I practically do this anyway (though I'm not teaching myself to speak elvish or anything. . .) I find it an inspirational book in many ways. I first read it as an adult--rather recently, actually--so my attachment to it is different from the books I read/reread as a child/adolescent (The Chronicles of Narnia and The Mists of Avalon, in case you were wondering--all fantasy; hmmm. . .) Should I expound? Naaah. There's just so much there. Besides, I would get to pick out the misprints in different editions.
I know that the book blogging community, and its various challenges, have pushed my reading borders. What’s one bookish thing you ‘discovered’ from book blogging (maybe a new genre, or author, or new appreciation for cover art-anything)?
Well, while book blogs tend to remind me, sadly, of when I was young and not in graduate school and liked to read and read profusely, making me painfully aware that I don't read nearly enough, especially for someone in my discipline (though many people in my discipline arguably read more criticism than primary works) there are two books I learned of recently from bloggers that I would like to read:
The History of Our World Beyond the Wave by R. E. Klein (sadly out-of-print) reviewed here by Darwin
Kristin Lavransdatter by Sigrid Undset, discussed recently by Melanie.
That good fairy is back for one final visit. Now, she’s granting you your dream library! Describe it. Is everything leatherbound? Is it full of first edition hardcovers? Pristine trade paperbacks? Perhaps a few favourite authors have inscribed their works? Go ahead-let your imagination run free.
Without a doubt, a first edition of The Hobbit before Tolkien revised the "Riddles in the Dark" chapter. In fact, first editions of Lord of the Rings, too. I'm well on my way to having all interesting illustrated editions, so that's a given. I would like a collection of really extravagant art books--specific eras, artists, and overviews, all with extensive color plates. And some small press books with woodcuts, from Kelmscott Press, for example.
As for nominations--Darwin, Mrs. Darwin, Melanie, and whoever else would like to join in! (I would tag some others--you know who you are--but isn't there some kind of rule about waiting a reasonable time before tagging the same person?)
Which book do you irrationally cringe away from reading, despite seeing only positive reviews?
Ulysses? No, that's not irrational. . . I know there's one that I'm not thinking of, but I can't put my finger on it.
Perhaps House on Mango Street by Sandra Cisneros. . .
There are more, I'm sure of it!
If you could bring three characters to life for a social event (afternoon tea, a night of clubbing, perhaps a world cruise), who would they be and what would the event be?
The vengeful answer: I would bring Stephen Daedalus, Leonard Bast, and Septimus Smith for a class in literary theory taught by a professor who deserves the "challenge." (suppresses wicked laughter)
I was trying to think of some wise, long-lived characters. . . Treebeard, Oisin (Celtic, from Yeats' poetry), but I get stuck on #3. . .
I know! Orlando, Dorian Grey and Lazarus Long at a Revival meeting or on Boubon Street for Mardi Gras. . .
Clearly, my mind is a bit warped right now!
(Borrowing shamelessly from the Thursday Next series by Jasper Fforde): you are told you can’t die until you read the most boring novel on the planet. While this immortality is great for awhile, eventually you realize it’s past time to die. Which book would you expect to get you a nice grave?
Moby Dick.
Come on, we’ve all been there. Which book have you pretended, or at least hinted, that you’ve read, when in fact you’ve been nowhere near it?
Toni Morrison's Beloved. Even tried to read it while teaching it one semester. Didn't happen. And oh so many things that have been assigned over the years, from Death of a Salesman in high school on down to the Ph.D. reading list. Usually I admit to not reading them, but not always--especially when grades are involved. There. Now you know what a slacker I am!!!
As an addition to the last question, has there been a book that you really thought you had read, only to realize when you read a review about it/go to ‘reread’ it that you haven’t?
I always get Love in the Time of Cholera confused with Of Love and Other Demons. Specifically, I told Chris I had read the former, thinking that it was the latter. Oops!!
You’re interviewing for the post of Official Book Advisor to some VIP (who’s not a big reader). What’s the first book you’d recommend and why? (if you feel like you’d have to know the person, go ahead and personalize the VIP)
Lord of the Rings. I know, probably not fair using the same one twice (see below). Not because it's practically useful. Then I might choose The Republic or The Prince, or even Mill's On Liberty. But there's a sense of heroism, amid almost certain defeat, or victory that contains elements of defeat, that is simply unfathomable to so many people today. I was actually thinking about this as a Disney preschool show was coming on this morning (before I could get to the remote control): "Higgleytown Heroes." The premise is that everyone--even those who do the most mundane jobs--are heroes because they provide a service to other people. Ummmm. . . in a word, No. Just no.
A good fairy comes and grants you one wish: you will have perfect reading comprehension in the foreign language of your choice. Which language do you go with?
I would have to go with Spanish. I sneered at Spanish and was a French snob in high school and college, before meeting my husband, who is fluent and has an M.A. in Spanish. When we were dating, he introduced me to Spanish literature, poetry in particular. So many times when he was in his Master's program, I wished that I could have taken the classes he was taking--again, mostly poetry, but also nineteenth and twentieth century Peninsular literature (as in, from the Peninsula--Spain--in case you didn't think I was still a European language snob!) and Octavio Paz. I would also like to do some comparisons between Spanish and English literature within my time period.
A mischievous fairy comes and says that you must choose one book that you will reread once a year for the rest of your life (you can read other books as well). Which book would you pick?
Ahem. Lord of the Rings. I practically do this anyway (though I'm not teaching myself to speak elvish or anything. . .) I find it an inspirational book in many ways. I first read it as an adult--rather recently, actually--so my attachment to it is different from the books I read/reread as a child/adolescent (The Chronicles of Narnia and The Mists of Avalon, in case you were wondering--all fantasy; hmmm. . .) Should I expound? Naaah. There's just so much there. Besides, I would get to pick out the misprints in different editions.
I know that the book blogging community, and its various challenges, have pushed my reading borders. What’s one bookish thing you ‘discovered’ from book blogging (maybe a new genre, or author, or new appreciation for cover art-anything)?
Well, while book blogs tend to remind me, sadly, of when I was young and not in graduate school and liked to read and read profusely, making me painfully aware that I don't read nearly enough, especially for someone in my discipline (though many people in my discipline arguably read more criticism than primary works) there are two books I learned of recently from bloggers that I would like to read:
The History of Our World Beyond the Wave by R. E. Klein (sadly out-of-print) reviewed here by Darwin
Kristin Lavransdatter by Sigrid Undset, discussed recently by Melanie.
That good fairy is back for one final visit. Now, she’s granting you your dream library! Describe it. Is everything leatherbound? Is it full of first edition hardcovers? Pristine trade paperbacks? Perhaps a few favourite authors have inscribed their works? Go ahead-let your imagination run free.
Without a doubt, a first edition of The Hobbit before Tolkien revised the "Riddles in the Dark" chapter. In fact, first editions of Lord of the Rings, too. I'm well on my way to having all interesting illustrated editions, so that's a given. I would like a collection of really extravagant art books--specific eras, artists, and overviews, all with extensive color plates. And some small press books with woodcuts, from Kelmscott Press, for example.
As for nominations--Darwin, Mrs. Darwin, Melanie, and whoever else would like to join in! (I would tag some others--you know who you are--but isn't there some kind of rule about waiting a reasonable time before tagging the same person?)
Monday, January 28, 2008
Overdue Meme
I was tagged by Darwin! This may have been my first meme, but it bears repeating every 6 months or so, I think. So here goes:
Book Meme Rules
1. Pick up the nearest book ( of at least 123 pages).
2. Open the book to page 123.
3. Find the fifth sentence.
4. Post the next three sentences.
5. Tag five people.
Aldous Huxley's Proper Studies is the nearest book. My husband checked it out of the library for me (handy that he works there) after it was mentioned in an article I was reading. Page 123 is in the middle of an essay titled "Education":
"A child may grow into a mental cripple or paralytic without suffering anything worse than boredom and fatigue. The fact is unfortunate. If children suffered agonies from the process of mental distortion at the hands of their pastors, if the stupid and mechanical teaching of German grammar or arithmetic actually made them scream with pain, we should by this time have learned something about right education. Finding themselves liable to prosecution by the Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Children, bad teachers would soon mend their ways."
[Okay, I cheated and copied 4 sentences! But really, that last one was hard to resist.]
So because the dissertation deals with literacy, which wasn't always talked about as such, "education" is a relevant topic for me, though often discussed more generally than is useful.
So I tag: Entropy at Sphere of Influence, Sarah at just another day of Catholic pondering, Jen at Et-tu? (oops, Darwin tagged her, too!), Anastasia, and Chris at Stuff as Dreams are Made On!
Book Meme Rules
1. Pick up the nearest book ( of at least 123 pages).
2. Open the book to page 123.
3. Find the fifth sentence.
4. Post the next three sentences.
5. Tag five people.
Aldous Huxley's Proper Studies is the nearest book. My husband checked it out of the library for me (handy that he works there) after it was mentioned in an article I was reading. Page 123 is in the middle of an essay titled "Education":
"A child may grow into a mental cripple or paralytic without suffering anything worse than boredom and fatigue. The fact is unfortunate. If children suffered agonies from the process of mental distortion at the hands of their pastors, if the stupid and mechanical teaching of German grammar or arithmetic actually made them scream with pain, we should by this time have learned something about right education. Finding themselves liable to prosecution by the Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Children, bad teachers would soon mend their ways."
[Okay, I cheated and copied 4 sentences! But really, that last one was hard to resist.]
So because the dissertation deals with literacy, which wasn't always talked about as such, "education" is a relevant topic for me, though often discussed more generally than is useful.
So I tag: Entropy at Sphere of Influence, Sarah at just another day of Catholic pondering, Jen at Et-tu? (oops, Darwin tagged her, too!), Anastasia, and Chris at Stuff as Dreams are Made On!
Sunday, January 27, 2008
An Ambiguous Sacrifice
Well, like so many Catholic bloggers this Lent and last, I am planning to give up blogging for Lent. I figure, everyone will lose interest & forget about me and my sitemeter stats will drop, but vanity is certainly not a good reason enough reason to stop me. I may get blogworthy ideas, but if they don't keep, perhaps I will focus on other things. Which brings me to the ambiguity. . .
No doubt I will miss blogging, and reading blogs (since that occupies more of my time than writing), and I will feel cut off from the community and the friends I have found, but when I considered posting about this a few days ago, I was thinking about my reasons for giving up blogging. Do I think that by giving up blogging and blog-reading, that I will devote more time to prayer, meditation and contemplation? Will this sacrifice bring me closer to God? Not to shock the Catholic blogging community, but no. Not even remotely. Not blogging will not make me saintlier, and that was nowhere in my motives for giving it up. Which caused me to pause. Was I giving up blogging the way others (like myself in the past) give up favorite food items--because it'll be healthier overall, kind of hard, and perhaps have the unanticipated benefit of weight loss? Well, it was true that I figured I would make my life more productive--I would be focusing on what I really should be doing--taking care of two little girls, a big brother, and (dare I say?) my husband and the house, working on the dissertation, and working for my assistantship--but isn't this more of a New Years resolution? Perhaps not, since I don't want to give it up permanently, but going cold turkey might help me regulate it more when I start back up after Easter. But isn't the Lenten sacrifice about turning back to God and making oneself holier? Reading the Catholic blogs probably makes me think about God more in a given day, albeit in a more cerebral or smug way (depending on the blog--mostly the ones whose authors don't read mine) than humble and spiritual. Well, this is what I figured. . .
I have talked a bit about vocation on this blog, here and there, from time to time. I am certainly called to motherhood and marriage, but there is this small matter of the dissertation, and the fact that I need to complete it in order for my family to move on from here, and for us to be able to pay the loans that have allowed us to pay the other bills and. . . well, you get the idea. And as for the argument (and I've seen it around the blogs) that the husband should be the provider, sometimes you have you go with the person who can do the narrowest job search instead of trawling the country for any job within a certain salary range for which one is qualified, and moving one's family accordingly. So the way I figure, the dissertation, at this point in time, is part of the family vocation. And, well, blogging is a kind of guilty pleasure in the middle of all of this. I really need to channel my creative energy into the dissertation, and these 40 days or so of Lent give me a chance to do that in an intense way, with few distractions. So how does this relate to a path to holiness? Because it relates to my vocation. And perhaps even to discernment of vocation, which I see as an ongoing process, though we've got to be settled sometime, right? My family just can't keep waiting indefinitely for the rest of our lives to begin.
So perhaps I will discover some spiritual elements in the pursuit of intellectual activity that is the dissertation, instead of the pursuit of intellectual activity that is the blogosphere for me. And perhaps by getting closer to my family vocation, I will move closer to God. Or maybe this is just my rationalization to force myself to do some work this Lent. You decide!!
P.S.--I will still be doing email, so if you feel like emailing, I wouldn't mind! (Please email me!!) ;)
P.P.S.--I will still be updating the family blog.
No doubt I will miss blogging, and reading blogs (since that occupies more of my time than writing), and I will feel cut off from the community and the friends I have found, but when I considered posting about this a few days ago, I was thinking about my reasons for giving up blogging. Do I think that by giving up blogging and blog-reading, that I will devote more time to prayer, meditation and contemplation? Will this sacrifice bring me closer to God? Not to shock the Catholic blogging community, but no. Not even remotely. Not blogging will not make me saintlier, and that was nowhere in my motives for giving it up. Which caused me to pause. Was I giving up blogging the way others (like myself in the past) give up favorite food items--because it'll be healthier overall, kind of hard, and perhaps have the unanticipated benefit of weight loss? Well, it was true that I figured I would make my life more productive--I would be focusing on what I really should be doing--taking care of two little girls, a big brother, and (dare I say?) my husband and the house, working on the dissertation, and working for my assistantship--but isn't this more of a New Years resolution? Perhaps not, since I don't want to give it up permanently, but going cold turkey might help me regulate it more when I start back up after Easter. But isn't the Lenten sacrifice about turning back to God and making oneself holier? Reading the Catholic blogs probably makes me think about God more in a given day, albeit in a more cerebral or smug way (depending on the blog--mostly the ones whose authors don't read mine) than humble and spiritual. Well, this is what I figured. . .
I have talked a bit about vocation on this blog, here and there, from time to time. I am certainly called to motherhood and marriage, but there is this small matter of the dissertation, and the fact that I need to complete it in order for my family to move on from here, and for us to be able to pay the loans that have allowed us to pay the other bills and. . . well, you get the idea. And as for the argument (and I've seen it around the blogs) that the husband should be the provider, sometimes you have you go with the person who can do the narrowest job search instead of trawling the country for any job within a certain salary range for which one is qualified, and moving one's family accordingly. So the way I figure, the dissertation, at this point in time, is part of the family vocation. And, well, blogging is a kind of guilty pleasure in the middle of all of this. I really need to channel my creative energy into the dissertation, and these 40 days or so of Lent give me a chance to do that in an intense way, with few distractions. So how does this relate to a path to holiness? Because it relates to my vocation. And perhaps even to discernment of vocation, which I see as an ongoing process, though we've got to be settled sometime, right? My family just can't keep waiting indefinitely for the rest of our lives to begin.
So perhaps I will discover some spiritual elements in the pursuit of intellectual activity that is the dissertation, instead of the pursuit of intellectual activity that is the blogosphere for me. And perhaps by getting closer to my family vocation, I will move closer to God. Or maybe this is just my rationalization to force myself to do some work this Lent. You decide!!
P.S.--I will still be doing email, so if you feel like emailing, I wouldn't mind! (Please email me!!) ;)
P.P.S.--I will still be updating the family blog.
Friday, January 25, 2008
Chickenpox!!!!!!!!!
We have had an infectious January. Two weeks ago, my toddler came down with Coxsackievirus, commonly (or uncommonly!) known as Hand, Foot, and Mouth disease. Very unpleasant. I caught it after her, then my son. Last week, while my son & I were still feeling the effects (which luckily didn't hinder our enjoyment of king cake & ice cream cake too much), I took my daughters to the doctors, and the Chiclette received some immunizations. This week, my son, who was not immunized against chicken pox, who we thought had had 2 milder cases when he was younger, came down with a full-blown case. Remember those? So it's Aveeno & Calomine for him! And another 3-4 days off of school. And the 4th copay in 3 weeks! This gave me the opportunity to ask the doctor about the vaccine. He brought it up, actually.
I really like my son's PCP. I like the girls' PCP also, as she believes in parental judgment, but I never feel as comfortable around female pediatricians as I do around a certain type of male pediatrician--the "old school" variety. This is quite different from how I feel about male vs. female OBs. But it's nice to have--for once--two pediatricians I trust.
So the doctor brought up the old cliche that chicken pox used to be a "rite of passage," that there were (ill-advised) chicken pox parties, etc., before the vaccine. He asked if the toddler was vaccinated (she is) and said that she could still get it (!!) but that it would be mild if she did. The baby should still be protected by maternal antibodies. So I asked about the vaccine--since there are reports of breakthrough infections, increased instances of shingles, and need for booster shots. He said that they always knew that a booster would be needed (!!). He hasn't heard of increased cases of shingles. And then he told us a few interesting things:
The Japanese have been vaccinating against chicken pox for about 20 years to our 15.
When my son was little, it had not yet become routine to vaccinate them at 1 yr., and that was only 10 years ago. By the time he was school age, the chicken pox vaccine was mandatory, but we skirted the issue.
Our current pediatrician did not recommend the vaccine when it was new for a few years, until the sample size was larger than the original test subjects.
He had a friend whose son (now 23 and an animator for Cartoon Network) had chicken pox induced meningitis. He was on the phone with the father when the boy had a seizure. It was at that point that he began to take chicken pox seriously as a disease.
The real reason that they vaccinate against chicken pox is not the disease but the secondary infections. The secondary staph infections landed 8,000 in the hospital on average, and would result in 40-50 deaths a year (which he whispered to avoid causing anxiety in the 11-year-old). With antibiotic resistant strains of staph, this is a valid concern to my mind.
I value such frankness in a doctor. It gives me much more to work with hearing these things from an informed person whom I trust.
Interestingly, the local news was reporting increased cases of chicken pox in spite of the vaccines only days before he came down with it. Picking up my son's homework today, my husband told one of the teachers that he had chicken pox. She said that a number of people do. It's "going around." Hmmm. . . I though that wasn't supposed to happen now!!
I really like my son's PCP. I like the girls' PCP also, as she believes in parental judgment, but I never feel as comfortable around female pediatricians as I do around a certain type of male pediatrician--the "old school" variety. This is quite different from how I feel about male vs. female OBs. But it's nice to have--for once--two pediatricians I trust.
So the doctor brought up the old cliche that chicken pox used to be a "rite of passage," that there were (ill-advised) chicken pox parties, etc., before the vaccine. He asked if the toddler was vaccinated (she is) and said that she could still get it (!!) but that it would be mild if she did. The baby should still be protected by maternal antibodies. So I asked about the vaccine--since there are reports of breakthrough infections, increased instances of shingles, and need for booster shots. He said that they always knew that a booster would be needed (!!). He hasn't heard of increased cases of shingles. And then he told us a few interesting things:
The Japanese have been vaccinating against chicken pox for about 20 years to our 15.
When my son was little, it had not yet become routine to vaccinate them at 1 yr., and that was only 10 years ago. By the time he was school age, the chicken pox vaccine was mandatory, but we skirted the issue.
Our current pediatrician did not recommend the vaccine when it was new for a few years, until the sample size was larger than the original test subjects.
He had a friend whose son (now 23 and an animator for Cartoon Network) had chicken pox induced meningitis. He was on the phone with the father when the boy had a seizure. It was at that point that he began to take chicken pox seriously as a disease.
The real reason that they vaccinate against chicken pox is not the disease but the secondary infections. The secondary staph infections landed 8,000 in the hospital on average, and would result in 40-50 deaths a year (which he whispered to avoid causing anxiety in the 11-year-old). With antibiotic resistant strains of staph, this is a valid concern to my mind.
I value such frankness in a doctor. It gives me much more to work with hearing these things from an informed person whom I trust.
Interestingly, the local news was reporting increased cases of chicken pox in spite of the vaccines only days before he came down with it. Picking up my son's homework today, my husband told one of the teachers that he had chicken pox. She said that a number of people do. It's "going around." Hmmm. . . I though that wasn't supposed to happen now!!
Yoga is Good
I have to remind myself of this periodically.
So I have this toddler who likes to imitate me when I stretch, shows a natural inclination toward dance, and has good rhythm & coordination. I have been wanting to get my son interested in yoga for years, but he was soured on it when he fell over while I was trying to help him with a pose. :( I bought a Yoga kids 2-pack at Target, and put the "From Silly to Calm" DVD in today, and we (mostly I) did some yoga. Even though it is geared toward 3-6 year olds, I still feel like I had a bit of a workout (sad commentary), and my daughter was interested long enough to try a downward dog--she likes that one, and did it a few times. I have to say, it's one of my favorites. I rather objected when the teacher told the kids to stretch their legs out to the side like a dog marking his territory. Please!! And there were one or two other things. . . Think I could substitute pacem for the sanskrit word shanti (peace)?
So I have this toddler who likes to imitate me when I stretch, shows a natural inclination toward dance, and has good rhythm & coordination. I have been wanting to get my son interested in yoga for years, but he was soured on it when he fell over while I was trying to help him with a pose. :( I bought a Yoga kids 2-pack at Target, and put the "From Silly to Calm" DVD in today, and we (mostly I) did some yoga. Even though it is geared toward 3-6 year olds, I still feel like I had a bit of a workout (sad commentary), and my daughter was interested long enough to try a downward dog--she likes that one, and did it a few times. I have to say, it's one of my favorites. I rather objected when the teacher told the kids to stretch their legs out to the side like a dog marking his territory. Please!! And there were one or two other things. . . Think I could substitute pacem for the sanskrit word shanti (peace)?
Tuesday, January 22, 2008
The Nature of the Job Market -or- Why I Won't Be Hired -or- A Coffee-Inspired Digression
Let me preface this by saying that I'm having a little debate with myself about coffee--whether I should have more of the stuff or avoid it altogether. You see, when I have more of it, I get agitated, but when I get agitated, I write stuff--sometimes even the stuff I'm supposed to be writing. When I have less coffee, I am calmer but less productive. Incidently, the best coffee in the world is made by monks.
So I received an email today about a job candidate to whom we've offered a position. This person is being hired in a marginal subfield related (somewhat) to my marginal subfield, but also intersects with many hot-topic subfields (some related to marginal groups)--hear: really attractive to a field trying to redefine itself as interdisciplinary, non-Western, and socially and politically "relevant." This person would also help the minority profile of the department, and comes from a somewhat more high-profile state school than the one that has offered him a position--also a state-school better known for liberal arts than the one that has offered him a position. He is a self-described "activist"--attractive to some segments of the faculty and grad student body, though the university is not located in a place that one would necessarily consider an ideal locale for activism (unless he painted tiger-stripes on himself and posed naked with the PETA chicks who protested the Barnum & Bailey circus a few years back. . .). He also has extensive creative publications, which would add a possible creative writing instructor to the faculty. His publication record is impressive, albeit limited to journals and book chapters in his particular, very specific, not very prominent ethnic literature specialization--the equivalent to me publishing in the fictitious Journal of Literacy in British Literature of the Early Twentieth Century. No wait--that's less specific. Oh well! He is in the process of being wined & dined by numerous other departments who want him for the exact same reasons I have outlined: well-qualified & looks good politically. So what's the problem?
Well, as I see it, and as the faculty has presented it, he is one of the best qualified new scholars currently on the market, and has other benefits besides. Every department hiring for anything related to his specialties wants him. He's got lots of people fighting for him, and unless we're making him a really sweet deal, he might not be willing to settle for "flagship" school in Texas miles outside of civilization. I mean, another department in liberal arts had a candidate turn them down because the local high school didn't have a good enough tennis team. Yeah. Neither the climate of the school nor the faculty in general nor the majority of the student body are really activism-friendly. (Okay, you all know where I live now. C'est la vie!) So why make him an offer he's likely to refuse? Naivete? Ambition? Have the faculty who are here convinced themselves that it's a really great place? After all, we've got the minimum number of Starbucks to be considered civilized now, a definite improvement on 10 years ago--oh wait, do activists like Starbucks? Hmmmm. . . But what do I have against making him an offer? If he refuses, we just move on an no one has lost anything, and there is the snowball's chance in hell that he will accept.
Well you see, I'm thinking about this as a grad student approaching a firing committee--oh wait, that's "hiring committee," "firing squad". . . Sorry! In the "professionalization and publication" class I took, we talked a bit about the "culture" of a department/university, and how we should make sure we would be a good fit, and how we should learn about the university's/department's "culture" in order to make a convincing application to that department. Anyway, this "culture" thing is supposed to be a deciding factor for search committees. At least in theory. A candidate can be bumped for not fitting in with the "culture"--it's permissible. Clearly, I don't think he quite fits, but this is not about me. Well at least I wasn't the one giving input (for many very good reasons). In theory, someone who is well-qualified but not as high-profile--say, someone from a lesser state-school or one not particularly well-known for liberal arts--can win out over someone who looks more attractive initially based on a well-crafted argument concerning fitting in with the school's "culture." There are other strategies, too, and admittedly it's probably not best to play up a connection with the "culture" of a school with decidedly non-intellectual "culture," but presumably being much more suited for a more cosmopolitan area could influence the decision of a hiring committee in a less cosmopolitan area.
Because, you see, if the top, kind of wacky candidate is not offered all of the 10 positions open in the field (or 6, or whatever), but the positions s/he is most likely to accept (or where s/he is most likely to feel comfortable, not leave within 5 years, etc.), then the second-best, still excellent 2 or 3 candidates might be offered 2-3 positions in the first cycle of offers, which basically means that the hiring process will be completed sooner and the second- and third choice candidates get offers sooner. After all, there are so many people in this discipline who are really well-qualified but lack the academic pedigree of a certain university, I'm not sure the top candidate really is the best candidate--at least, I hope not.
By all accounts, the job search is expensive, grueling, anxious, miserable, and often unfair. And did I mention a load of laughs? If you're from a lesser school, you really need to start padding the vita against guys like the one described above from day one. But if you don't quite have the same list of pubs, does it really mean that you're less worthy? (Working on politically correct subject matter often helps, too. This guy has it all!) A lot of the misery of the job search could be lessened--at least for some candidates--if the hiring committees would be a little more realistic & rational about the whole process. I mean, what if their own students were competing against Mr. Star Candidate? Would they feel like their own students had the chance that they deserved, or that the decks were stacked against them? Would they (and their students) appreciate being left on the back burners while the top few were treated to the grand tour, even by schools whose offers they were least likely to accept? And what about the committees themselves? Are their resources best spent making offers to 4-5 candidates before one accepts? And isn't it just a little nicer for everyone involved to know that the first candidate to receive an offer accepted it?
So I received an email today about a job candidate to whom we've offered a position. This person is being hired in a marginal subfield related (somewhat) to my marginal subfield, but also intersects with many hot-topic subfields (some related to marginal groups)--hear: really attractive to a field trying to redefine itself as interdisciplinary, non-Western, and socially and politically "relevant." This person would also help the minority profile of the department, and comes from a somewhat more high-profile state school than the one that has offered him a position--also a state-school better known for liberal arts than the one that has offered him a position. He is a self-described "activist"--attractive to some segments of the faculty and grad student body, though the university is not located in a place that one would necessarily consider an ideal locale for activism (unless he painted tiger-stripes on himself and posed naked with the PETA chicks who protested the Barnum & Bailey circus a few years back. . .). He also has extensive creative publications, which would add a possible creative writing instructor to the faculty. His publication record is impressive, albeit limited to journals and book chapters in his particular, very specific, not very prominent ethnic literature specialization--the equivalent to me publishing in the fictitious Journal of Literacy in British Literature of the Early Twentieth Century. No wait--that's less specific. Oh well! He is in the process of being wined & dined by numerous other departments who want him for the exact same reasons I have outlined: well-qualified & looks good politically. So what's the problem?
Well, as I see it, and as the faculty has presented it, he is one of the best qualified new scholars currently on the market, and has other benefits besides. Every department hiring for anything related to his specialties wants him. He's got lots of people fighting for him, and unless we're making him a really sweet deal, he might not be willing to settle for "flagship" school in Texas miles outside of civilization. I mean, another department in liberal arts had a candidate turn them down because the local high school didn't have a good enough tennis team. Yeah. Neither the climate of the school nor the faculty in general nor the majority of the student body are really activism-friendly. (Okay, you all know where I live now. C'est la vie!) So why make him an offer he's likely to refuse? Naivete? Ambition? Have the faculty who are here convinced themselves that it's a really great place? After all, we've got the minimum number of Starbucks to be considered civilized now, a definite improvement on 10 years ago--oh wait, do activists like Starbucks? Hmmmm. . . But what do I have against making him an offer? If he refuses, we just move on an no one has lost anything, and there is the snowball's chance in hell that he will accept.
Well you see, I'm thinking about this as a grad student approaching a firing committee--oh wait, that's "hiring committee," "firing squad". . . Sorry! In the "professionalization and publication" class I took, we talked a bit about the "culture" of a department/university, and how we should make sure we would be a good fit, and how we should learn about the university's/department's "culture" in order to make a convincing application to that department. Anyway, this "culture" thing is supposed to be a deciding factor for search committees. At least in theory. A candidate can be bumped for not fitting in with the "culture"--it's permissible. Clearly, I don't think he quite fits, but this is not about me. Well at least I wasn't the one giving input (for many very good reasons). In theory, someone who is well-qualified but not as high-profile--say, someone from a lesser state-school or one not particularly well-known for liberal arts--can win out over someone who looks more attractive initially based on a well-crafted argument concerning fitting in with the school's "culture." There are other strategies, too, and admittedly it's probably not best to play up a connection with the "culture" of a school with decidedly non-intellectual "culture," but presumably being much more suited for a more cosmopolitan area could influence the decision of a hiring committee in a less cosmopolitan area.
Because, you see, if the top, kind of wacky candidate is not offered all of the 10 positions open in the field (or 6, or whatever), but the positions s/he is most likely to accept (or where s/he is most likely to feel comfortable, not leave within 5 years, etc.), then the second-best, still excellent 2 or 3 candidates might be offered 2-3 positions in the first cycle of offers, which basically means that the hiring process will be completed sooner and the second- and third choice candidates get offers sooner. After all, there are so many people in this discipline who are really well-qualified but lack the academic pedigree of a certain university, I'm not sure the top candidate really is the best candidate--at least, I hope not.
By all accounts, the job search is expensive, grueling, anxious, miserable, and often unfair. And did I mention a load of laughs? If you're from a lesser school, you really need to start padding the vita against guys like the one described above from day one. But if you don't quite have the same list of pubs, does it really mean that you're less worthy? (Working on politically correct subject matter often helps, too. This guy has it all!) A lot of the misery of the job search could be lessened--at least for some candidates--if the hiring committees would be a little more realistic & rational about the whole process. I mean, what if their own students were competing against Mr. Star Candidate? Would they feel like their own students had the chance that they deserved, or that the decks were stacked against them? Would they (and their students) appreciate being left on the back burners while the top few were treated to the grand tour, even by schools whose offers they were least likely to accept? And what about the committees themselves? Are their resources best spent making offers to 4-5 candidates before one accepts? And isn't it just a little nicer for everyone involved to know that the first candidate to receive an offer accepted it?
Where have all the green potato chips gone?
I started wondering about this after seeing an Arthur episode in which D.W. thinks she's going to die from eating a green potato chip. I remember seeing green ones all the time when I was a child, then they just. . . disappeared. I supposed that quality control has improved that much, or that the green ones had been genetically modified away. I never really missed them; they were a little disturbing and tasted a little funny, too. But today, eating some McDonald's french fries, I saw it--a fry with a GREEN TIP! Aaaaaaaaaah!
Sunday, January 20, 2008
Class & Privilege in the Blogs
Recently, my academic and Catholic blog reading has collided in a weird way--in my mind, anyway. There has been this meme hopping around the Catholic blogs, answered here by Entropy and here by Mrs. Darwin, that measures privilege. Sort of. I have been tempted--sorely tempted--to answer it. But something has prevented me. Perhaps the same thing that tempts me to turn off comments on this post--not sure what that is, though.
Then, I have been following a series of posts on Anastasia's blog here, here, here and here--about the role of one's socio-economic background in one's academic success and, ultimately, one's success in Academia. I actually don't like to use the word "class" here, because, as Anastasia points out, there is more to class than money, and "class" is often very narrowly--or conveniently--defined, depending on one's agenda. As several of my dissertation chapters do deal with class (ugh), my dissertation director & I have discussed class a teensy bit, his opinion being that it is more relevant in Britain than the U.S., since class is actually a very different thing in the U.S. than in Britain--dependent on more independent factors, which I write at the risk of sounding circular. I have not commented on the posts because I'm not entirely sure I want to read what other people have said on the topic. (You know when you just want to resist getting bogged down in the debate? That's where I am. . .) So I have relied on Anastasia's accounts of what others have said, and her responses make a lot of sense to me. Our circumstances intersect at times(check the comments for an explanation of this).
All of this called for a response. So whadya think? How privileged am I? Have I mentioned recently that my mother is living with my little brother in a house without plumbing? Or that when growing up I knew more about Catholic Charities than most Catholics? There's a long history here, but I have a disclaimer: People thought of these things differently in New Orleans when I was growing up than how they are perceived elsewhere, now. I didn't feel less privileged than my peers. Though I did have a "friend" remark that, unlike her, I wouldn't have to worry about competitive scholarships 'cause I could qualify for financial aid. Nice. So I have perhaps too many comments on this, but here goes:
From What Privileges Do You Have?, based on an exercise about class and privilege developed by Will Barratt, Meagan Cahill, Angie Carlen, Minnette Huck, Drew Lurker, Stacy Ploskonka at Illinois State University. If you participate in this blog game, they ask that you PLEASE acknowledge their copyright.)
Bold the true statements.
1. Father went to college Think so, but I didn't know him. My mother's second husband was a high school drop out.
2. Father finished college
3. Mother went to college
4. Mother finished college I don't think it counts if she finished after me. We were in school at the same time and alternated days so I could babysit while she was in class.
5. Have any relative who is an attorney, physician, or professor
6. Were the same or higher class than your high school teachers. Tough call. Not according to household income.
7. Had more than 50 books in your childhood home.
8. Had more than 500 books in your childhood home.
9. Were read children's books by a parent I could read for as long as I can remember, though that may be a cognitive effect of literacy. I'm sure my mother probably read to me when I was little & she had time. I read to everyone when I was older!
10. Had lessons of any kind before you turned 18
11. Had more than two kinds of lessons before you turned 18
12. The people in the media who dress and talk like me are portrayed positively Tough call, but we dressed well. Better than others. My mom sewed & believed that you could always afford to dress nicely. We were all well spoken.
13. Had a credit card with your name on it before you turned 18
14. Your parents (or a trust) paid for the majority of your college costs Ummmm. . . No. She was getting loans too. My grandmother paid my summer tuition as a graduation present, allowing me to enroll & get dual credit to graduate from high school a year early.
15. Your parents (or a trust) paid for all of your college costs
16. Went to a private high school
17. Went to summer camp
18. Had a private tutor before you turned 18
19. Family vacations involved staying at hotels No vacations since I was 4.
20. Your clothing was all bought new before you turned 18 Even though I was the oldest, no. I wore aunts' old clothes.
21. Your parents bought you a car that was not a hand-me-down from them
22. There was original art in your house when you were a child My mother's--she was an art major.
23. You and your family lived in a single-family house When I was 8 or 9 they bought the house that currently has no plumbing & is still being paid. 800 sq. ft. 3 bedroom, 1 bath for as many as 2 adults and 6 children at a time.
24. Your parent(s) owned their own house or apartment before you left home Does "owned" mean paid? It was still an undivided community when I left. . .
25. You had your own room as a child
26. You had a phone in your room before you turned 18
27. Participated in a SAT/ACT prep course
28. Had your own TV in your room in high school It only worked for video games--really old. If it even still worked by then. . .
29. Owned a mutual fund or IRA in high school or college
30. Flew anywhere on a commercial airline before you turned 16 To New York at 15 to work at a Christian Camp, which ruined me for organized Christianity for a while
31. Went on a cruise with your family
32. Went on more than one cruise with your family
33. Your parents took you to museums and art galleries as you grew up
34. You were unaware of how much heating bills were for your family
8/34 = 23.5%
My husband scored 50%. I married up! Hahaha
I think perhaps family size could be a factor, but I wouldn't know how to factor for it. I might have asked about free/reduced lunch at school. That can carry a stigma.
My mother grew up perhaps a bit more privileged than I did. My grandfather provided for his family very well working for a large oil company. He stayed in New Orleans with said oil company even when many of his friends there moved over to Houston. My grandmother was the daughter of sharecroppers. There were some issues about what was appropriate for girls re:education. At least, my mother was not helped at all, which is why her first college experience ended quickly. But my grandfather did value education, and bitterly regretted his own lack of college, while regarding it a bastion of liberalism (fairly, I think). This was also a positive influence on me when I was growing up. My mother had a high value for education. So while economically we were below the poverty level, our values were not what are typically considered working class values. I did not doubt that I would attend college, though I did not expect anyone else to pay for it. My mother was questioning and taught us to question. And you know, class just wasn't a big thing. I learned to rely on my abilities.
Which may not have served me as well as you might think. . .
You see, I didn't know how to play the game. In fact, I was decidedly opposed to the game. You know, the connections game. Could I have gotten into a non-commuter non-state or flagship-state school? Maybe. Could I have gone? Practically? No. At least, I don't know how I would have gotten there. My mother didn't even have a major credit card. But in my stubbornly economically disadvantaged ignorance, I didn't think it mattered. I believed that I would get just as good an education as at a big name school. And in many ways, I think I did. But that's not really what matters, as I learned later. Because unless you know people with connections or have a school name to back you up, or are privileged or disadvantaged in the right ways, you don't advance the same way. So I have bopped from state school to state school, and while I have gained a bit--I am in a higher "tier" than I used to be--it is not a school known for liberal arts, which means that even though it's a big name, it's a big name for the wrong things. That's going to hurt. And the ways to overcome that--conferences and publications--I really haven't done. Because, you see, besides not liking to travel by myself and having kids (though I could have left the one behind with my husband more than I did when he was an only child, I just didn't like to!!), I really can't afford to travel to conferences!! Even if you're reimbursed, you need a way to pay for it in the first place, and with student loans filling in where the income leaves gaps, there's no room for extras. Except that I did sacrifice to send my son to some private schools. For better or worse, really, but for better in terms of his self-esteem.
Like Anastasia, I wanted to study classical languages sooner. I wanted to attend the all-boys Catholic high school my husband attended to have the educational advantages I associated (correctly) with that school. I made the "get out while the scholarship is paying" choices rather than the "prepare for grad school" choices, so I was never able to acquire the languages necessary for comparative lit. But growing up in my income bracket paradoxically gave me determination, but a false sense of confidence in my abilities alone, and deprived me of the connections and credentials (i.e. school names) that I now know go a loooooooong way. I wish I didn't believe that, but I really do. And I think it will cost me academically.
I'm wondering, though, what my son will put down as his answer to the same questions. How privileged is he by comparison? Let's see. . .
1. Father went to college
2. Father finished college
3. Mother went to college
4. Mother finished college
5. Have any relative who is an attorney, physician, or professor God willing
6. Were the same or higher class than your high school teachers.
7. Had more than 50 books in your childhood home.
8. Had more than 500 books in your childhood home.
9. Were read children's books by a parent
10. Had lessons of any kind before you turned 18
11. Had more than two kinds of lessons before you turned 18
12. The people in the media who dress and talk like me are portrayed positively
13. Had a credit card with your name on it before you turned 18 Not gonna happen
14. Your parents (or a trust) paid for the majority of your college costs
15. Your parents (or a trust) paid for all of your college costs
16. Went to a private high school Let's just say yes (and you know, I almost think homeschooling would merit a 'yes' for this. It doesn't prove anything about economics, but it does demonstrate a dedication to quality of education that could fit a certain definition of privilege).
17. Went to summer camp
18. Had a private tutor before you turned 18
19. Family vacations involved staying at hotels (Did you know that parents going to a conference is a family vacation? At any rate, there aren't many, but staying in hotels is the only option.)
20. Your clothing was all bought new before you turned 18 Pretty much
21. Your parents bought you a car that was not a hand-me-down from them Not gonna happen
22. There was original art in your house when you were a child Ummm. . . My mom's. . .
23. You and your family lived in a single-family house For a few years. . .
24. Your parent(s) owned their own house or apartment before you left home Doubt it
25. You had your own room as a child Yup. For now.
26. You had a phone in your room before you turned 18 Not gonna happen
27. Participated in a SAT/ACT prep course What if he doesn't need it? Or a tutor?
28. Had your own TV in your room in high school
29. Owned a mutual fund or IRA in high school or college
30. Flew anywhere on a commercial airline before you turned 16
31. Went on a cruise with your family
32. Went on more than one cruise with your family
33. Your parents took you to museums and art galleries as you grew up When we can
34. You were unaware of how much heating bills were for your family
17/34 = 50% Hmmm. . .
Does materialism = privilege necessarily, or vice versa? There needs to be a distinction between monetary and intellectual privilege here. Know what? That distinction is important to the dissertation, which, despite any obstacles to the contrary--money, family situation--I am indeed writing! (albeit slowly)
Then, I have been following a series of posts on Anastasia's blog here, here, here and here--about the role of one's socio-economic background in one's academic success and, ultimately, one's success in Academia. I actually don't like to use the word "class" here, because, as Anastasia points out, there is more to class than money, and "class" is often very narrowly--or conveniently--defined, depending on one's agenda. As several of my dissertation chapters do deal with class (ugh), my dissertation director & I have discussed class a teensy bit, his opinion being that it is more relevant in Britain than the U.S., since class is actually a very different thing in the U.S. than in Britain--dependent on more independent factors, which I write at the risk of sounding circular. I have not commented on the posts because I'm not entirely sure I want to read what other people have said on the topic. (You know when you just want to resist getting bogged down in the debate? That's where I am. . .) So I have relied on Anastasia's accounts of what others have said, and her responses make a lot of sense to me. Our circumstances intersect at times(check the comments for an explanation of this).
All of this called for a response. So whadya think? How privileged am I? Have I mentioned recently that my mother is living with my little brother in a house without plumbing? Or that when growing up I knew more about Catholic Charities than most Catholics? There's a long history here, but I have a disclaimer: People thought of these things differently in New Orleans when I was growing up than how they are perceived elsewhere, now. I didn't feel less privileged than my peers. Though I did have a "friend" remark that, unlike her, I wouldn't have to worry about competitive scholarships 'cause I could qualify for financial aid. Nice. So I have perhaps too many comments on this, but here goes:
From What Privileges Do You Have?, based on an exercise about class and privilege developed by Will Barratt, Meagan Cahill, Angie Carlen, Minnette Huck, Drew Lurker, Stacy Ploskonka at Illinois State University. If you participate in this blog game, they ask that you PLEASE acknowledge their copyright.)
Bold the true statements.
1. Father went to college Think so, but I didn't know him. My mother's second husband was a high school drop out.
2. Father finished college
3. Mother went to college
4. Mother finished college I don't think it counts if she finished after me. We were in school at the same time and alternated days so I could babysit while she was in class.
5. Have any relative who is an attorney, physician, or professor
6. Were the same or higher class than your high school teachers. Tough call. Not according to household income.
7. Had more than 50 books in your childhood home.
8. Had more than 500 books in your childhood home.
9. Were read children's books by a parent I could read for as long as I can remember, though that may be a cognitive effect of literacy. I'm sure my mother probably read to me when I was little & she had time. I read to everyone when I was older!
10. Had lessons of any kind before you turned 18
11. Had more than two kinds of lessons before you turned 18
12. The people in the media who dress and talk like me are portrayed positively Tough call, but we dressed well. Better than others. My mom sewed & believed that you could always afford to dress nicely. We were all well spoken.
13. Had a credit card with your name on it before you turned 18
14. Your parents (or a trust) paid for the majority of your college costs Ummmm. . . No. She was getting loans too. My grandmother paid my summer tuition as a graduation present, allowing me to enroll & get dual credit to graduate from high school a year early.
15. Your parents (or a trust) paid for all of your college costs
16. Went to a private high school
17. Went to summer camp
18. Had a private tutor before you turned 18
19. Family vacations involved staying at hotels No vacations since I was 4.
20. Your clothing was all bought new before you turned 18 Even though I was the oldest, no. I wore aunts' old clothes.
21. Your parents bought you a car that was not a hand-me-down from them
22. There was original art in your house when you were a child My mother's--she was an art major.
23. You and your family lived in a single-family house When I was 8 or 9 they bought the house that currently has no plumbing & is still being paid. 800 sq. ft. 3 bedroom, 1 bath for as many as 2 adults and 6 children at a time.
24. Your parent(s) owned their own house or apartment before you left home Does "owned" mean paid? It was still an undivided community when I left. . .
25. You had your own room as a child
26. You had a phone in your room before you turned 18
27. Participated in a SAT/ACT prep course
28. Had your own TV in your room in high school It only worked for video games--really old. If it even still worked by then. . .
29. Owned a mutual fund or IRA in high school or college
30. Flew anywhere on a commercial airline before you turned 16 To New York at 15 to work at a Christian Camp, which ruined me for organized Christianity for a while
31. Went on a cruise with your family
32. Went on more than one cruise with your family
33. Your parents took you to museums and art galleries as you grew up
34. You were unaware of how much heating bills were for your family
8/34 = 23.5%
My husband scored 50%. I married up! Hahaha
I think perhaps family size could be a factor, but I wouldn't know how to factor for it. I might have asked about free/reduced lunch at school. That can carry a stigma.
My mother grew up perhaps a bit more privileged than I did. My grandfather provided for his family very well working for a large oil company. He stayed in New Orleans with said oil company even when many of his friends there moved over to Houston. My grandmother was the daughter of sharecroppers. There were some issues about what was appropriate for girls re:education. At least, my mother was not helped at all, which is why her first college experience ended quickly. But my grandfather did value education, and bitterly regretted his own lack of college, while regarding it a bastion of liberalism (fairly, I think). This was also a positive influence on me when I was growing up. My mother had a high value for education. So while economically we were below the poverty level, our values were not what are typically considered working class values. I did not doubt that I would attend college, though I did not expect anyone else to pay for it. My mother was questioning and taught us to question. And you know, class just wasn't a big thing. I learned to rely on my abilities.
Which may not have served me as well as you might think. . .
You see, I didn't know how to play the game. In fact, I was decidedly opposed to the game. You know, the connections game. Could I have gotten into a non-commuter non-state or flagship-state school? Maybe. Could I have gone? Practically? No. At least, I don't know how I would have gotten there. My mother didn't even have a major credit card. But in my stubbornly economically disadvantaged ignorance, I didn't think it mattered. I believed that I would get just as good an education as at a big name school. And in many ways, I think I did. But that's not really what matters, as I learned later. Because unless you know people with connections or have a school name to back you up, or are privileged or disadvantaged in the right ways, you don't advance the same way. So I have bopped from state school to state school, and while I have gained a bit--I am in a higher "tier" than I used to be--it is not a school known for liberal arts, which means that even though it's a big name, it's a big name for the wrong things. That's going to hurt. And the ways to overcome that--conferences and publications--I really haven't done. Because, you see, besides not liking to travel by myself and having kids (though I could have left the one behind with my husband more than I did when he was an only child, I just didn't like to!!), I really can't afford to travel to conferences!! Even if you're reimbursed, you need a way to pay for it in the first place, and with student loans filling in where the income leaves gaps, there's no room for extras. Except that I did sacrifice to send my son to some private schools. For better or worse, really, but for better in terms of his self-esteem.
Like Anastasia, I wanted to study classical languages sooner. I wanted to attend the all-boys Catholic high school my husband attended to have the educational advantages I associated (correctly) with that school. I made the "get out while the scholarship is paying" choices rather than the "prepare for grad school" choices, so I was never able to acquire the languages necessary for comparative lit. But growing up in my income bracket paradoxically gave me determination, but a false sense of confidence in my abilities alone, and deprived me of the connections and credentials (i.e. school names) that I now know go a loooooooong way. I wish I didn't believe that, but I really do. And I think it will cost me academically.
I'm wondering, though, what my son will put down as his answer to the same questions. How privileged is he by comparison? Let's see. . .
1. Father went to college
2. Father finished college
3. Mother went to college
4. Mother finished college
5. Have any relative who is an attorney, physician, or professor God willing
6. Were the same or higher class than your high school teachers.
7. Had more than 50 books in your childhood home.
8. Had more than 500 books in your childhood home.
9. Were read children's books by a parent
10. Had lessons of any kind before you turned 18
11. Had more than two kinds of lessons before you turned 18
12. The people in the media who dress and talk like me are portrayed positively
13. Had a credit card with your name on it before you turned 18 Not gonna happen
14. Your parents (or a trust) paid for the majority of your college costs
15. Your parents (or a trust) paid for all of your college costs
16. Went to a private high school Let's just say yes (and you know, I almost think homeschooling would merit a 'yes' for this. It doesn't prove anything about economics, but it does demonstrate a dedication to quality of education that could fit a certain definition of privilege).
17. Went to summer camp
18. Had a private tutor before you turned 18
19. Family vacations involved staying at hotels (Did you know that parents going to a conference is a family vacation? At any rate, there aren't many, but staying in hotels is the only option.)
20. Your clothing was all bought new before you turned 18 Pretty much
21. Your parents bought you a car that was not a hand-me-down from them Not gonna happen
22. There was original art in your house when you were a child Ummm. . . My mom's. . .
23. You and your family lived in a single-family house For a few years. . .
24. Your parent(s) owned their own house or apartment before you left home Doubt it
25. You had your own room as a child Yup. For now.
26. You had a phone in your room before you turned 18 Not gonna happen
27. Participated in a SAT/ACT prep course What if he doesn't need it? Or a tutor?
28. Had your own TV in your room in high school
29. Owned a mutual fund or IRA in high school or college
30. Flew anywhere on a commercial airline before you turned 16
31. Went on a cruise with your family
32. Went on more than one cruise with your family
33. Your parents took you to museums and art galleries as you grew up When we can
34. You were unaware of how much heating bills were for your family
17/34 = 50% Hmmm. . .
Does materialism = privilege necessarily, or vice versa? There needs to be a distinction between monetary and intellectual privilege here. Know what? That distinction is important to the dissertation, which, despite any obstacles to the contrary--money, family situation--I am indeed writing! (albeit slowly)
Family blog-new post
This might be really bad form, but I have a family-only blog that feed readers can't read, so I may announce a new post every now & again. Like now.
Thursday, January 17, 2008
Gardasil--for the record
While chatting with the "clinic nurse" (as the badge stated) who stuck 4 syringe needles into my sweet little baby this afternoon, the subject of the pain caused by certain vaccinations arose. The baby did not cry at all with the first, but the second, the polio, causes all of the children discomfort. In the second leg, the same happened, and I believe it was the DTaP that made her cry. Well, the tech (as I suppose we should call her) told me casually that she went in to her GYN the other day to get her Gardasil shot. She gives this shot regularly and is told by all of the girls how incredibly, intensely painful it is. She gave it to a 17-year-old the other day and the girl "said the 'f' word" because it was so painful. After getting the shot herself, she doesn't blame the girl for her exclamation. It seems that "official" sources have recorded Gardasil as being the single most painful "childhood" vaccine.
So what I figure is, some good might come out of this after all--as a threat: "If you're caught doing XYZ again, I'm going to make you get the Gardasil injection!!"
So what I figure is, some good might come out of this after all--as a threat: "If you're caught doing XYZ again, I'm going to make you get the Gardasil injection!!"
More Medical Questioning: Cough & Cold Meds
Okay, so I've written about the vaccination thing. I have my reservations. And questioning vaccinations is a countercultural thing, certainly. The FDA doesn't readily give statistics on deaths from vaccinations, and if they did, it wouldn't be reported in the media. So consider this, from CNN:
In 2007, the FDA completed a review that found there were 54 reported child deaths from decongestants and 69 from antihistamines between 1969 and fall 2006.
It is part of the ever-increasing hype about over-the-counter (OTC) medications. In the past several years, we have seen Phenylpropylalamine pulled completely as a decongestant because some people who were abusing it had heart attacks. Then, we have witnessed as Pseudoephedrine (which has always had mild-to-serious heart problems as a side effect--it makes my heart race horribly; I can't take it) has been restricted, put under lock & key, anyone who wishes to purchase it subjected to a near background-check, and now gradually it is being replaced by Phenylephrine--so that we don't go make Meth out of it. And now we're being told that none of it is safe or (possibly) effective.
Well, I don't particularly want to give a child under 2 all of these drugs anyway. And when I do use medicines, even for myself, I tend to use moderate doses, I do not tend to re-dose on schedule, usually waiting at least 6 hours--really as the symptoms dictate, and I tend to wait until the symptoms are really uncomfortable before dosing. So I am not a pill-poppin' momma by any means. But I do think that there is a little too much hysteria in this case. I believe that what is happening is that the safest stuff is being taken off the market, leading to more prescriptions & doctor's visits, and also leading to rash actions--perhaps the administration of a larger dose to a smaller child out of ignorance. But mostly, I believe that this is inspiring false panic.
Consider: there were 54 reported child deaths from decongestants and 69 from antihistamines between 1969 and fall 2006. Okay, let's do the math. That means that in 37 years, of all of the millions of children who received multiple doses several times a year, 54 children died of decongestants and 69 died from antihistamines. That's 1.46 deaths per year from decongestants and 1.86 from antihistamines. Most were in children under 2 years. Well, for starters, take the fact that as long as I can remember, the package labels said, "under 2 consult a doctor" or "not to be given to children under 2." Then, control for overdosing (I was twice given overdoses of cold medicines when I was young--once I was under 4 years) and re-dosing too soon, or too may times in a 24 hour period. Consider that two medicines containing the same drug or different ones in the same category may have been administered simultaneously. Then (and only then) consider the possibility of allergic reactions. How many people do you think died of peanut allergies in the same time frame? Perhaps we should remove peanuts from the market. Or strawberries. Or milk. Now consider that they group "decongestants" together for the purpose of the analysis and "antihistamines." Well, let's see. . . In the time frame mentioned, at least 3 different decongestants were available, one of which has been taken off the market and one is increasingly difficult to get. So which one(s) caused the deaths? As for antihistamines, I can name Diphenhydramine, Chlorpheniramine Maleate and Brompheniramine Maleate off the top of my head. Again, to which one(s) are they attributing the deaths? And why was it necessary to group them all together? Hyperbole? To make their results statistically significant? And why are they vilifying cough meds, too?
Let me reiterate. . . I am cautious about medicines. Very cautious. Others may not be. If they are not effective, that's different. But why are the same people who say that vaccinations are unequivocally safe trying to scare me about my medicine cabinet?
In 2007, the FDA completed a review that found there were 54 reported child deaths from decongestants and 69 from antihistamines between 1969 and fall 2006.
It is part of the ever-increasing hype about over-the-counter (OTC) medications. In the past several years, we have seen Phenylpropylalamine pulled completely as a decongestant because some people who were abusing it had heart attacks. Then, we have witnessed as Pseudoephedrine (which has always had mild-to-serious heart problems as a side effect--it makes my heart race horribly; I can't take it) has been restricted, put under lock & key, anyone who wishes to purchase it subjected to a near background-check, and now gradually it is being replaced by Phenylephrine--so that we don't go make Meth out of it. And now we're being told that none of it is safe or (possibly) effective.
Well, I don't particularly want to give a child under 2 all of these drugs anyway. And when I do use medicines, even for myself, I tend to use moderate doses, I do not tend to re-dose on schedule, usually waiting at least 6 hours--really as the symptoms dictate, and I tend to wait until the symptoms are really uncomfortable before dosing. So I am not a pill-poppin' momma by any means. But I do think that there is a little too much hysteria in this case. I believe that what is happening is that the safest stuff is being taken off the market, leading to more prescriptions & doctor's visits, and also leading to rash actions--perhaps the administration of a larger dose to a smaller child out of ignorance. But mostly, I believe that this is inspiring false panic.
Consider: there were 54 reported child deaths from decongestants and 69 from antihistamines between 1969 and fall 2006. Okay, let's do the math. That means that in 37 years, of all of the millions of children who received multiple doses several times a year, 54 children died of decongestants and 69 died from antihistamines. That's 1.46 deaths per year from decongestants and 1.86 from antihistamines. Most were in children under 2 years. Well, for starters, take the fact that as long as I can remember, the package labels said, "under 2 consult a doctor" or "not to be given to children under 2." Then, control for overdosing (I was twice given overdoses of cold medicines when I was young--once I was under 4 years) and re-dosing too soon, or too may times in a 24 hour period. Consider that two medicines containing the same drug or different ones in the same category may have been administered simultaneously. Then (and only then) consider the possibility of allergic reactions. How many people do you think died of peanut allergies in the same time frame? Perhaps we should remove peanuts from the market. Or strawberries. Or milk. Now consider that they group "decongestants" together for the purpose of the analysis and "antihistamines." Well, let's see. . . In the time frame mentioned, at least 3 different decongestants were available, one of which has been taken off the market and one is increasingly difficult to get. So which one(s) caused the deaths? As for antihistamines, I can name Diphenhydramine, Chlorpheniramine Maleate and Brompheniramine Maleate off the top of my head. Again, to which one(s) are they attributing the deaths? And why was it necessary to group them all together? Hyperbole? To make their results statistically significant? And why are they vilifying cough meds, too?
Let me reiterate. . . I am cautious about medicines. Very cautious. Others may not be. If they are not effective, that's different. But why are the same people who say that vaccinations are unequivocally safe trying to scare me about my medicine cabinet?
Wednesday, January 16, 2008
Vaccination Concerns: Just a Mom Thing?
So on my last post, we were speaking purely from the maternal perspective, mentioning "mommy guilt" and discussing whether or not we--as women and mothers--underestimate our importance in decision-making for the health of our families. But what about Dads? My husband is sympathetic to my concerns, wary of new vaccines, but even more than me, perhaps, he supports the old standbys. So what do other husbands say? If husbands are more in favor of the vaccines, why? Just curious!
Tuesday, January 15, 2008
HIB, Hep B, and Chicken Pox, Oh My!!
The Chiclette goes in for her 2 month check-up on Thursday, the one on which they bombard this little developing immune system with all kinds of nasties--all for her good, of course. Now, I have mentioned before that I exercise caution with the recommendations of doctors. I have a skepticism about--well, everything, but about medicine in particular. I am not against all vaccines, however. I am merely cautious. The vaccines I received as a child are familiar territory, though they are questioned by many, and even linked to onset of autism in some children. Measels, Mumps, Rubella, Diptheria, Pertussus, and of course, Polio, are vaccines I tend to consider "safe," though I know many would question this. At any rate, I know that the vaccines have been around for a long, long time, and have been studied, and judged to be as safe as 50+ years of research can make them. My son, to be 11 on Friday, received all of the recommended vaccines. Until the chicken pox vaccine. I had heard the cautions about vaccines even then, but thought that the benefit was worth the slight risk. Until the chicken pox vaccine.
You see, in my mind, vaccines were reserved for childhood illnesses that killed children--polio, whooping cough--and posed a genuine public health risk. But chicken pox was only a mild nuisance for most children, keeping them out of school for a week or two, which wasn't really an issue, I guess, unless there was no one available to care for them at home. So my son did not receive the chicken pox vaccine. He got two very mild cases of chicken pox from exposure to children at school who had been vaccinated recently and were "shedding" the virus. That strengthened my opinion that the vaccine was not really advisable.
When I was in the hospital after having my Doodle, I read in the papers about the vaccine against Human Papillomavirus and was instantly against the idea of vaccinating pre-teen girls for an STD. It seemed hasty, unnecessary, inadvisable. Not to mention discriminatory--to subject the girls to a vaccine, the safety of which is not entirely known, when presumably they were getting the virus from boys. Besides the fact that this was hardly an air-borne illness. Let's face it, STDs are highly preventable. So my attitude towards vaccinating my daughters with Gardasil? Over my dead body, thanks.
I relaxed my vigilance some when it came time to vaccinate my Doodle. I don't know why, but I shrugged and did a "What the heck" when it came to the chicken pox, possibly because it was easiest at the time, or perhaps because my son had felt the adverse affects of not being vaccinated in a culture where vaccination was the norm--and was infected as a consequence of this being the norm. So I figured I would skip a step or two and make it easier when she had to go to school (eventually). Of course, I did not realize that Texas allows parents to opt out of any vaccine. Evidently all one has to do is file the paperwork. So Doodle has had all of the "mandatory" vaccines, but has not had the ones that are only required if she happens to attend daycare. Since her last round, I have read more about adverse affects of Gardasil (HPV) and the vaccination for chicken pox, and it makes me wonder about all of this all over again. Not to mention that link Jen posted about the use of aborted fetal tissue to make vaccines. Great. So here I am, wondering what to do. . . again.
Because this is no easy matter. Any time we refuse medical treatment or tests, we are going against the grain. It feels like gambling, and health is nothing to gamble with. I have less of a problem when it's just me--but when it's my children and I take a risk, it feels, well, wrong. Culturally we are told that doctors are superior to just about everyone, and should not really be questioned. This changes from place to place. I have to say that people in New Orleans that I knew seemed to question medical practitioners more--even before something went wrong--than they do in this corner of Texas. I'm sure there's another corner of Texas I could name where the questioning is more intense still--at least in some circles. But that's decidedly countercultural. And so if I follow my instincts and refuse one or more of the vaccines, I feel like a bad parent. For what? For doing what I feel is right, and for gambling on the chance that my child will not contract whatever they are vaccinating against. The last time I faced a decision like this, I was deciding whether to treat my child for an enzyme deficiency that I knew she didn't have while they retested her after botching the first screening so that she and 3 other babies came out positive. She was about 3 weeks old. I won that bet, but it was agonizing.
This week, she faces several vaccines, and I am not particularly comfortable with all of the vaccines, the fact that they are given simultaneously, the fact that they will be administered even if the baby has a cold, or the fact that parental consent is generally assumed, and that these vaccines are deemed "mandatory" for my children by state boards. At two months they receive: Prevnar, DTaP, HIB, Polio, and Chicken Pox. Possibly Rotavirus also. She has not had any vaccines at this point. I refused the one in the hospital--Hep B--because, well, I don't see it as necessary, as it is transmitted sexually or through a transfusion. I can't say I know much about Prevnar or HIB. I believe both of my earlier ones had them. I feel like a cop out admitting that I haven't done the research. DTaP is familiar territory, as is the Polio. Chicken pox--well, you know how I feel about that one. And I don't feel comfortable with the Rotavirus vaccine. It sounds like a daycare vaccine to me. You know, so the workers don't get sued for not washing their hands. I just can't see that it's more crucial now than it was 2 years ago. The main goal seems to be to prevent trips to the hospital and the doctor's office. So it's an insurance company vaccine, too--it saves them money.
And you know what socialized medicine means to me? More of this shoved down our throats, with less recourse if side-effects occur, and less choice in the matter!
You see, in my mind, vaccines were reserved for childhood illnesses that killed children--polio, whooping cough--and posed a genuine public health risk. But chicken pox was only a mild nuisance for most children, keeping them out of school for a week or two, which wasn't really an issue, I guess, unless there was no one available to care for them at home. So my son did not receive the chicken pox vaccine. He got two very mild cases of chicken pox from exposure to children at school who had been vaccinated recently and were "shedding" the virus. That strengthened my opinion that the vaccine was not really advisable.
When I was in the hospital after having my Doodle, I read in the papers about the vaccine against Human Papillomavirus and was instantly against the idea of vaccinating pre-teen girls for an STD. It seemed hasty, unnecessary, inadvisable. Not to mention discriminatory--to subject the girls to a vaccine, the safety of which is not entirely known, when presumably they were getting the virus from boys. Besides the fact that this was hardly an air-borne illness. Let's face it, STDs are highly preventable. So my attitude towards vaccinating my daughters with Gardasil? Over my dead body, thanks.
I relaxed my vigilance some when it came time to vaccinate my Doodle. I don't know why, but I shrugged and did a "What the heck" when it came to the chicken pox, possibly because it was easiest at the time, or perhaps because my son had felt the adverse affects of not being vaccinated in a culture where vaccination was the norm--and was infected as a consequence of this being the norm. So I figured I would skip a step or two and make it easier when she had to go to school (eventually). Of course, I did not realize that Texas allows parents to opt out of any vaccine. Evidently all one has to do is file the paperwork. So Doodle has had all of the "mandatory" vaccines, but has not had the ones that are only required if she happens to attend daycare. Since her last round, I have read more about adverse affects of Gardasil (HPV) and the vaccination for chicken pox, and it makes me wonder about all of this all over again. Not to mention that link Jen posted about the use of aborted fetal tissue to make vaccines. Great. So here I am, wondering what to do. . . again.
Because this is no easy matter. Any time we refuse medical treatment or tests, we are going against the grain. It feels like gambling, and health is nothing to gamble with. I have less of a problem when it's just me--but when it's my children and I take a risk, it feels, well, wrong. Culturally we are told that doctors are superior to just about everyone, and should not really be questioned. This changes from place to place. I have to say that people in New Orleans that I knew seemed to question medical practitioners more--even before something went wrong--than they do in this corner of Texas. I'm sure there's another corner of Texas I could name where the questioning is more intense still--at least in some circles. But that's decidedly countercultural. And so if I follow my instincts and refuse one or more of the vaccines, I feel like a bad parent. For what? For doing what I feel is right, and for gambling on the chance that my child will not contract whatever they are vaccinating against. The last time I faced a decision like this, I was deciding whether to treat my child for an enzyme deficiency that I knew she didn't have while they retested her after botching the first screening so that she and 3 other babies came out positive. She was about 3 weeks old. I won that bet, but it was agonizing.
This week, she faces several vaccines, and I am not particularly comfortable with all of the vaccines, the fact that they are given simultaneously, the fact that they will be administered even if the baby has a cold, or the fact that parental consent is generally assumed, and that these vaccines are deemed "mandatory" for my children by state boards. At two months they receive: Prevnar, DTaP, HIB, Polio, and Chicken Pox. Possibly Rotavirus also. She has not had any vaccines at this point. I refused the one in the hospital--Hep B--because, well, I don't see it as necessary, as it is transmitted sexually or through a transfusion. I can't say I know much about Prevnar or HIB. I believe both of my earlier ones had them. I feel like a cop out admitting that I haven't done the research. DTaP is familiar territory, as is the Polio. Chicken pox--well, you know how I feel about that one. And I don't feel comfortable with the Rotavirus vaccine. It sounds like a daycare vaccine to me. You know, so the workers don't get sued for not washing their hands. I just can't see that it's more crucial now than it was 2 years ago. The main goal seems to be to prevent trips to the hospital and the doctor's office. So it's an insurance company vaccine, too--it saves them money.
And you know what socialized medicine means to me? More of this shoved down our throats, with less recourse if side-effects occur, and less choice in the matter!
Saturday, January 12, 2008
Catholic Capricorns
I find it very cool that in the course of reading blogs, I have found several bloggers within, well, 0-5 years of my own age who write about things we're all interested in. As Jen writes here, it's good to be a Catholic convert and a blogger, because you have a built-in support network. I hesitate to attribute too much to the web in general in this, because on the internet--as in parenting magazines--one can find someone with a web site to support whatever weird perspective one chooses to hold, and the subject of Catholicism is no exception! But I've heard it said by those who are exploring Catholicism (and here I would include myself when I look up answers online) that they could recognize the truth when they saw--read--perhaps "felt" it: I believe this* is related to the Church being guided by the Holy Spirit. Those who sincerely seek truth will find it, however long the journey. But I digress. . .
This month, I have become increasingly aware of the number of like-minded bloggers, and readers of blogs, who have birthdays in January! (Not that I have any particular reason to note this, mind you. . .) Sarah at just another day of Catholic pondering celebrated her 31st birthday on January 10th, Jen at Et-tu, Jen? also turned 31 this month, on January 12th. One of Sarah's readers turns 31 along with me on the 17th. ('77 was a good year for Catholics or, in many of our cases, Catholics-to-be!) I know of someone else who drops by occasionally whose birthday rings in the New Year. And my son's birthday is January 18th! So happy birthday to all of the Catholic Capricorns**!
*My dissertation director's favorite thing to do in my drafts is to circle every use of the word "this" in order to force me to be more explicit about the reference, which obviously makes perfect sense in my own mind. In this case, "this" refers to the ability of prayerful, truth-seeking Catholics to recognize the truth in representations of Church teachings.
**And to all the non-Catholic Capricorns, too!!--It was just funny, you know, "Catholic Capricorn." I know, I know--too self-consciously clever. . . :P
This month, I have become increasingly aware of the number of like-minded bloggers, and readers of blogs, who have birthdays in January! (Not that I have any particular reason to note this, mind you. . .) Sarah at just another day of Catholic pondering celebrated her 31st birthday on January 10th, Jen at Et-tu, Jen? also turned 31 this month, on January 12th. One of Sarah's readers turns 31 along with me on the 17th. ('77 was a good year for Catholics or, in many of our cases, Catholics-to-be!) I know of someone else who drops by occasionally whose birthday rings in the New Year. And my son's birthday is January 18th! So happy birthday to all of the Catholic Capricorns**!
*My dissertation director's favorite thing to do in my drafts is to circle every use of the word "this" in order to force me to be more explicit about the reference, which obviously makes perfect sense in my own mind. In this case, "this" refers to the ability of prayerful, truth-seeking Catholics to recognize the truth in representations of Church teachings.
**And to all the non-Catholic Capricorns, too!!--It was just funny, you know, "Catholic Capricorn." I know, I know--too self-consciously clever. . . :P
Wednesday, January 9, 2008
Housework & Me
The problem with knowing & reading so many great stay-at-home-mom bloggers is that I read more than my fair share of posts about housework. Particularly in January, it seems, as everyone is trying to get their households under control as part of New Years' Resolutions. Me--not so much. Or if I am, my definition is different: arrange to have the car daily in order to pick the soon-to-be-eleven-year-old up from school, make sure that all of the bills get paid in any given month, learn to get an infant and a toddler in the car by myself. I've been doing pretty good with two of the three--I'll leave you to guess which ones.
My standards of housework perfection are simultaneously high and low. When I read the blogs of stay-at-home moms, I think, "Gee, if this person does this stuff all day while I sit at the computer & read blogs while trying to find the 'correct mental state' for dissertation writing, how must my house compare and should I care a teensy bit more about it?" I frequently feel like I haven't done a single productive thing in a day (don't ask what my definition of "productive" is--I couldn't tell you, except when the mood hits!) I don't feel like I'm an adequate housekeeper--or houseworker (that is, "doer of housework")--though I do, paradoxically, perhaps, feel myself to be an adequate homemaker. Perhaps that's where the contrast comes in, I'm not sure. . . But home maker seems to imply an attitude and an overall effort to make a house--and a household--home like, which seems to be something beyond mere neatness or organization.
So anyone who actually pledges to stay home & take care of cleaning, etc., as a full time job has my admiration, and if I imagine myself in comparison to these individuals, I will almost certainly feel that I come up short. I think of my grandmother, who had a task for each day of the week, including weekly vacuuming and dusting (!), and whose house always seemed perfect. (Vacuuming and dusting are only to be done if guests are expected, pine needles accumulate, or dissertation writing is being put off.) I was illustrating her system of washcloth folding to my son over the weekend: the washcloths had to be folded in fourths, but all in the same direction, so that the stripe was on the top of the folded towel and parallel to the folded portion. Everyone who took a bath at her house had to wipe out the bathtub afterward to maintain a clean tub! Obviously, I will never strive to that kind of perfection. But I wonder if, in the grand scheme of things, I am that much worse than my peers, or if we merely harbor different goals. . .
In a given day, I know there are things I need to accomplish. I need to drop off my husband and son in the morning so that I have the car in order to pick them both up in the afternoon. I need to make sure that the toddler has at least 2 meals (or as close to two meals as I can manage) before picking up Brother and Daddy. I need to feed myself a reasonable amount of fairly-nutritious food. I need to give the toddler a nap. I need to bathe myself, either before the dropping off or during the napping. I need to change at least 2 toddler diapers before the nap. I need to accommodate the needs of the infant, allowing her or helping her to sleep when necessary, feeding her on demand, changing diapers as necessary. Those are the essentials! I may give some thought to dinner early in the day, but by the time supper preparation time rolls around, I may have changed my mind! Other tasks happen when they happen, and are governed by necessity: if someone has worn all of their pants this week, pants need to be washed. If the dirty clothes is overflowing the dirty clothes receptacles, multiple batches are in order (they used to be washed on the weekends, but laundry is no longer something that can be accomplished all at one time. . .). If the clutter is becoming overwhelming, straightening up is on the agenda. If bills need to be paid, I wash some more clothes--you get the idea! ;) During semesters when I teach, papers are graded before they need to be returned, and class prep is accomplished during the days on which I teach if I teach in the evening. The point being, I prioritize tasks. Often if I want to accomplish one particular thing, like cooking a pot of soup or two from my favorite Monastery Soups cookbook, making blankies or some other sewing project, or baking a king cake, for example, something else (hopefully not toddler meals) gets pushed aside. Hey! Some things can wait! I put it down to a quality of life issue. And I'm not always this laid back about it, as my husband, who does a considerable amount of "what needs to be done" can attest. But I am opposed to scheduling my day. I don't think it would make things less overwhelming or make my day seem more productive. Rather, it would emphasize what I have been unable to accomplish in an unhealthy way. I do enough of that on my own!
I am not what most would consider organized, but I have enough of my grandmother in me that I could be--really obsessively organized. (The perfectionist gene manifests itself differently in each generation. I received more than my share.) So when I organize, I really organize. When I wash clothes, my batches include darks, blue jeans, lighter mediums, darker mediums, lights, white clothes, reds, light towels, colored towels, and baby clothes. So I stay away from opportunities to organize like the child of an alcoholic avoids alcohol. 'Cause daily life doesn't have to be that perfect, especially if sanity and happiness (yours and others') are lost in the process. I scoff at visiting picture-perfect professors' houses (yeah, like those children's books would be stacked just. so. on that antique chair if any real children lived here!!) Mess is part of life, as long as it's not unsanitary.
Now, clearly I do not think of myself as a stay-at-home mom. I share a lot with stay-at-home moms. For starters, I am usually home with my children all day during the week. I do not choose to put my children into others' care while they are small. In fact, I don't like to put them into childcare until preschool--part time--at age 3, if I can arrange it. Even then, we start with 2 or 3 half days a week, and I am very selective of the facility, preferring Montessori. My son only went to kindergarten part time. And yet, although I am home a lot, I do work outside of the home. I am not currently full-time, and I hope not to be (2-3 classes is enough!!). I choose my hours as much as possible to make things convenient for me to stay with my family. But I am not a stay-at-home mom. And I wonder if this influences my perception of housework. I really don't think of housework as part of my vocation--it's just something unpleasant that needs to be done, and everyone pitches in to keep everything running fairly smoothly. And it works! There are frustrations, and a certain big brother needs to become accustomed to his share, but it does work. In a given day, I--or we--accomplish enough to be able to sit down in the evening and relax a little knowing that the tasks that will not wait are taken care of. And at the end of the day, that's what's important.
My standards of housework perfection are simultaneously high and low. When I read the blogs of stay-at-home moms, I think, "Gee, if this person does this stuff all day while I sit at the computer & read blogs while trying to find the 'correct mental state' for dissertation writing, how must my house compare and should I care a teensy bit more about it?" I frequently feel like I haven't done a single productive thing in a day (don't ask what my definition of "productive" is--I couldn't tell you, except when the mood hits!) I don't feel like I'm an adequate housekeeper--or houseworker (that is, "doer of housework")--though I do, paradoxically, perhaps, feel myself to be an adequate homemaker. Perhaps that's where the contrast comes in, I'm not sure. . . But home maker seems to imply an attitude and an overall effort to make a house--and a household--home like, which seems to be something beyond mere neatness or organization.
So anyone who actually pledges to stay home & take care of cleaning, etc., as a full time job has my admiration, and if I imagine myself in comparison to these individuals, I will almost certainly feel that I come up short. I think of my grandmother, who had a task for each day of the week, including weekly vacuuming and dusting (!), and whose house always seemed perfect. (Vacuuming and dusting are only to be done if guests are expected, pine needles accumulate, or dissertation writing is being put off.) I was illustrating her system of washcloth folding to my son over the weekend: the washcloths had to be folded in fourths, but all in the same direction, so that the stripe was on the top of the folded towel and parallel to the folded portion. Everyone who took a bath at her house had to wipe out the bathtub afterward to maintain a clean tub! Obviously, I will never strive to that kind of perfection. But I wonder if, in the grand scheme of things, I am that much worse than my peers, or if we merely harbor different goals. . .
In a given day, I know there are things I need to accomplish. I need to drop off my husband and son in the morning so that I have the car in order to pick them both up in the afternoon. I need to make sure that the toddler has at least 2 meals (or as close to two meals as I can manage) before picking up Brother and Daddy. I need to feed myself a reasonable amount of fairly-nutritious food. I need to give the toddler a nap. I need to bathe myself, either before the dropping off or during the napping. I need to change at least 2 toddler diapers before the nap. I need to accommodate the needs of the infant, allowing her or helping her to sleep when necessary, feeding her on demand, changing diapers as necessary. Those are the essentials! I may give some thought to dinner early in the day, but by the time supper preparation time rolls around, I may have changed my mind! Other tasks happen when they happen, and are governed by necessity: if someone has worn all of their pants this week, pants need to be washed. If the dirty clothes is overflowing the dirty clothes receptacles, multiple batches are in order (they used to be washed on the weekends, but laundry is no longer something that can be accomplished all at one time. . .). If the clutter is becoming overwhelming, straightening up is on the agenda. If bills need to be paid, I wash some more clothes--you get the idea! ;) During semesters when I teach, papers are graded before they need to be returned, and class prep is accomplished during the days on which I teach if I teach in the evening. The point being, I prioritize tasks. Often if I want to accomplish one particular thing, like cooking a pot of soup or two from my favorite Monastery Soups cookbook, making blankies or some other sewing project, or baking a king cake, for example, something else (hopefully not toddler meals) gets pushed aside. Hey! Some things can wait! I put it down to a quality of life issue. And I'm not always this laid back about it, as my husband, who does a considerable amount of "what needs to be done" can attest. But I am opposed to scheduling my day. I don't think it would make things less overwhelming or make my day seem more productive. Rather, it would emphasize what I have been unable to accomplish in an unhealthy way. I do enough of that on my own!
I am not what most would consider organized, but I have enough of my grandmother in me that I could be--really obsessively organized. (The perfectionist gene manifests itself differently in each generation. I received more than my share.) So when I organize, I really organize. When I wash clothes, my batches include darks, blue jeans, lighter mediums, darker mediums, lights, white clothes, reds, light towels, colored towels, and baby clothes. So I stay away from opportunities to organize like the child of an alcoholic avoids alcohol. 'Cause daily life doesn't have to be that perfect, especially if sanity and happiness (yours and others') are lost in the process. I scoff at visiting picture-perfect professors' houses (yeah, like those children's books would be stacked just. so. on that antique chair if any real children lived here!!) Mess is part of life, as long as it's not unsanitary.
Now, clearly I do not think of myself as a stay-at-home mom. I share a lot with stay-at-home moms. For starters, I am usually home with my children all day during the week. I do not choose to put my children into others' care while they are small. In fact, I don't like to put them into childcare until preschool--part time--at age 3, if I can arrange it. Even then, we start with 2 or 3 half days a week, and I am very selective of the facility, preferring Montessori. My son only went to kindergarten part time. And yet, although I am home a lot, I do work outside of the home. I am not currently full-time, and I hope not to be (2-3 classes is enough!!). I choose my hours as much as possible to make things convenient for me to stay with my family. But I am not a stay-at-home mom. And I wonder if this influences my perception of housework. I really don't think of housework as part of my vocation--it's just something unpleasant that needs to be done, and everyone pitches in to keep everything running fairly smoothly. And it works! There are frustrations, and a certain big brother needs to become accustomed to his share, but it does work. In a given day, I--or we--accomplish enough to be able to sit down in the evening and relax a little knowing that the tasks that will not wait are taken care of. And at the end of the day, that's what's important.
Tuesday, January 1, 2008
First Post of the New Year
The new year arrived quietly at the Literacy-chic household. I was on the computer perusing the blogs and my mother was on the floor cuddling the toddler before she had to leave today to return to New Orleans. The 10-year-old was trying to get to sleep, while my brother was in the shower. The Chiclette was, I believe, in her bed, and I seemed to have misplaced my husband in this memory. . . We only realized that the new year had begun, bringing and end to a pleasant holiday visit, when we heard a small cacophony of fireworks and realized that the "Happy New Year"s were in order.
I have relaxed my attitude towards New Years over the past couple of years--as the family has grown and staying home & spending a normal, comfortable evening has become more attractive. I guess I'm growing into my age and my family. (hahaha) When I was an undergraduate, I had a friend in a French class whose family was Vietnamese. She told me something about Vietnamese culture and belief about the new year that I will never forget, and which made the new year more significant: that what you are doing when the old year passes into new is what you will be doing the entire year. I believe that the New Year's Eve after I heard that was not a very interesting one--I likely spent my time moping, being lonely, and generally feeling sorry for myself. All I got out of the following year were some poems--go figure. However, the year after that, as 1995 faded into 1996, I spent New Years' Eve with my husband. It was our third date. The first, which I initiated, we went to my favorite pub, which I knew (through mutual acquaintances) that he liked also, to see a Celtic Christmas performance by Danny O'Flaherty. Afterwards, we went to see the lights at Christmas (now Celebration) in the Oaks in New Orleans' City Park--again, something we both enjoyed. We talked the whole night, and even as early as that first night, he mentioned marriage (mostly conversationally, once more specifically--in a joking way), and I was surprised that I was not put off by the mention of the word, as I had been with other dates. Our second date was much less formal and came after our mutual interest was reestablished after a few weeks incommunicado during a bout of bronchitis that left me concerned about his interest since the ball was clearly in his court!! So our third date found us, on New Year's Eve, at dinner, and a movie, and roaming around New Orleans trying to find an open coffee shop(!), then on the levee watching fireworks. That New Years' did not hold significance for that year alone, but for a lifetime. So we have this to smile about every year, whatever else we might do to celebrate.
The past year has been both difficult and, in retrospect, amazing, as I might say of our married life in general--difficult because of circumstances (and, sometimes, my attitude towards them), but amazing because of love. A large part of the year was occupied by a emotionally and physically exhausting pregnancy, the anxieties of which I have chronicled here. I have had toddler trials and ten-year old trials, and I believe that I am learning to learn in a new way from God's Grace and the wonders of my children. In addition to my own wonderful birth and amazing daughter, I have been more or less involved in the pregnancies of several friends--and for the first time in my life I have friends with whom I can share motherhood. I have also found friends with whom I share faith--and Faith--and I have had the almost surreal experience of making friends online--including getting to know more closely or keep up with people I knew only in passing, or could not keep in touch with easily. The year has seen a number of spiritual obstacles, which I suppose are natural. Someone should tell new converts that the euphoria of conversion is difficult to sustain and to live up to. This may be for the best, or we would all abandon our families to pray all day and night--and then when would we blog? ;) But in the challenges of my growing family, I have found time for meditation and prayer--as I am rocking my toddler. So while the growth may not always have been apparent, I enter 2008 with the hope that the insights I have gained from difficulties encountered will blossom in the new year. Although it feels like the dissertation has remained pretty much the same, I realize that I finished revising 2 chapters in the spring and almost completely rewrote the introduction from only the proposal, which was not yet fully realized, and wrote a new chapter this fall that is almost complete. I have ideas for the conclusion, and have begun the second-to-last chapter. It sounds like a lot when I think about the finished product rather than the process. In spite of the exhaustion of the pregnancy, I taught 2 classes, one in the heat of the summer, and one in the last months of pregnancy, showing (to myself if not to others) that it can, indeed, be done. Our family has a new life in our midst, and a new home in which to nurture her. Newness speaks of hope, and it is with prayerful hope--especially for my mother and my grandmother, and my aunt who has cancer not likely to be cured--that I greet the new year. I pray that I can remember this side of difficulties as I face them in 2008.
My hopes for the new year include being able to maintain my family's finances, finishing the dissertation, finding employment that allows me to keep my baby-friendly schedule. I hope to balance my time with my children, remembering that even self-sufficient ten-year-olds need their parents' time and attention, to keep a clear path to walk through the apartment at all times, and to cook meals at home consistently. I want to renew my spirituality, whether that means finding a path to spirituality at home or deepening my connection with God through the sacraments or C/church more generally. I am looking forward to being able to schedule our daughter's baptism--hopefully for this month. I want to renew my personal devotion to the Eucharist in particular, and to learn what that means exactly!
A side note: I find myself keeping baby names in reserve. Has this birth made me more "open to life" than I had been? Do I understand that better now? I do think that 2008 will be a pregnancy-free year, but after that, who knows?
That's as close to New Years' resolutions as I will get. . . I am surprised at how much I have learned, and how blessed I feel looking back, though it did not always seem so at the time. Wishing you all blessings and all of the hope that a new year implies!
~Literacy-chic
I have relaxed my attitude towards New Years over the past couple of years--as the family has grown and staying home & spending a normal, comfortable evening has become more attractive. I guess I'm growing into my age and my family. (hahaha) When I was an undergraduate, I had a friend in a French class whose family was Vietnamese. She told me something about Vietnamese culture and belief about the new year that I will never forget, and which made the new year more significant: that what you are doing when the old year passes into new is what you will be doing the entire year. I believe that the New Year's Eve after I heard that was not a very interesting one--I likely spent my time moping, being lonely, and generally feeling sorry for myself. All I got out of the following year were some poems--go figure. However, the year after that, as 1995 faded into 1996, I spent New Years' Eve with my husband. It was our third date. The first, which I initiated, we went to my favorite pub, which I knew (through mutual acquaintances) that he liked also, to see a Celtic Christmas performance by Danny O'Flaherty. Afterwards, we went to see the lights at Christmas (now Celebration) in the Oaks in New Orleans' City Park--again, something we both enjoyed. We talked the whole night, and even as early as that first night, he mentioned marriage (mostly conversationally, once more specifically--in a joking way), and I was surprised that I was not put off by the mention of the word, as I had been with other dates. Our second date was much less formal and came after our mutual interest was reestablished after a few weeks incommunicado during a bout of bronchitis that left me concerned about his interest since the ball was clearly in his court!! So our third date found us, on New Year's Eve, at dinner, and a movie, and roaming around New Orleans trying to find an open coffee shop(!), then on the levee watching fireworks. That New Years' did not hold significance for that year alone, but for a lifetime. So we have this to smile about every year, whatever else we might do to celebrate.
The past year has been both difficult and, in retrospect, amazing, as I might say of our married life in general--difficult because of circumstances (and, sometimes, my attitude towards them), but amazing because of love. A large part of the year was occupied by a emotionally and physically exhausting pregnancy, the anxieties of which I have chronicled here. I have had toddler trials and ten-year old trials, and I believe that I am learning to learn in a new way from God's Grace and the wonders of my children. In addition to my own wonderful birth and amazing daughter, I have been more or less involved in the pregnancies of several friends--and for the first time in my life I have friends with whom I can share motherhood. I have also found friends with whom I share faith--and Faith--and I have had the almost surreal experience of making friends online--including getting to know more closely or keep up with people I knew only in passing, or could not keep in touch with easily. The year has seen a number of spiritual obstacles, which I suppose are natural. Someone should tell new converts that the euphoria of conversion is difficult to sustain and to live up to. This may be for the best, or we would all abandon our families to pray all day and night--and then when would we blog? ;) But in the challenges of my growing family, I have found time for meditation and prayer--as I am rocking my toddler. So while the growth may not always have been apparent, I enter 2008 with the hope that the insights I have gained from difficulties encountered will blossom in the new year. Although it feels like the dissertation has remained pretty much the same, I realize that I finished revising 2 chapters in the spring and almost completely rewrote the introduction from only the proposal, which was not yet fully realized, and wrote a new chapter this fall that is almost complete. I have ideas for the conclusion, and have begun the second-to-last chapter. It sounds like a lot when I think about the finished product rather than the process. In spite of the exhaustion of the pregnancy, I taught 2 classes, one in the heat of the summer, and one in the last months of pregnancy, showing (to myself if not to others) that it can, indeed, be done. Our family has a new life in our midst, and a new home in which to nurture her. Newness speaks of hope, and it is with prayerful hope--especially for my mother and my grandmother, and my aunt who has cancer not likely to be cured--that I greet the new year. I pray that I can remember this side of difficulties as I face them in 2008.
My hopes for the new year include being able to maintain my family's finances, finishing the dissertation, finding employment that allows me to keep my baby-friendly schedule. I hope to balance my time with my children, remembering that even self-sufficient ten-year-olds need their parents' time and attention, to keep a clear path to walk through the apartment at all times, and to cook meals at home consistently. I want to renew my spirituality, whether that means finding a path to spirituality at home or deepening my connection with God through the sacraments or C/church more generally. I am looking forward to being able to schedule our daughter's baptism--hopefully for this month. I want to renew my personal devotion to the Eucharist in particular, and to learn what that means exactly!
A side note: I find myself keeping baby names in reserve. Has this birth made me more "open to life" than I had been? Do I understand that better now? I do think that 2008 will be a pregnancy-free year, but after that, who knows?
That's as close to New Years' resolutions as I will get. . . I am surprised at how much I have learned, and how blessed I feel looking back, though it did not always seem so at the time. Wishing you all blessings and all of the hope that a new year implies!
~Literacy-chic
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