Holiday Images

Montessori Holiday Party/Encounters with "Social Interaction"

This morning, I actually had the leisure (and the courage!!) to take Doodle to her holiday party. I strapped Chiclette to me and led Doodle into the school and to the various tables of activities. They decorated graham cracker houses, made snow pictures, laced Christmas cards, rolled & cut an ornament out of dough made from cinnamon, applesauce, and glue (???), and strung cranberries and popcorn on wire. She could also have made a bird feeder, but they substituted the peanut butter that they usually spread on the pine cones with Crisco. I was too grossed out. I remembered that there is one child with a severe nut allergy, so that explains the substitution. The morning was fun, but tiring. Doodle really enjoys having activities that are suited to her skill level--no need to constrain her. It's so nice for her. The much touted "social interaction" of preschool perplexes her a bit, and rather frustrates me.

Little girls are taught and expected to interact in such different ways from little boys. It really sets up the cliquishness of the pre-teen and teen years. I can't stand seeing its beginnings. Doodle was stringing cranberries and popcorn on a wire. A little girl came up, but there was no chair. So she squeezed onto Doodle's chair, which Doodle was fine with--she was happy to share! Then little girl #2 comes walking up. There was no chair. So little girl #1 starts pushing Doodle off of the chair because "Claire needs a chair"! Claire's mom chimes in, "That's O.K., Claire can stand," but that really didn't solve the problem. Doodle knew that she was being thrown over. Luckily, it didn't upset her too badly. More than anything, she was perplexed by her friend's behavior (everyone is a friend to her--she even calls me "her friend Momma" sometimes!). The "so-and-so likes her better than me" is a new concept. She knows no hierarchies in friendship. :( So I went and got another chair and plopped it down for Doodle! She moved on to a different activity not long after that. Little boys wouldn't bother with this. Why do people teach their daughters to behave like this? No one needs to cultivate a "best friend" relationship in a preschooler. After a while, it has more to do with status, and making sure that your child's friends' clothes cost the same as your child's clothes, and that they live in a house that appraises favorably. It's not as bad sending your son to a snob school as your daughter.

Why I don't get things done. . .

I finally have the girls asleep at the same time.

Of course, this happened with less than an hour before I needed to leave the house to pick up my son from school.

So I was thinking about posting my snow pictures to the family blog.

Snow pictures reminded me that it's snowing in New Orleans. So I thought maybe I should call my mom and see how she and my brother are enjoying the snow.

Which reminded me that I need to pay the phone bill.

So I did nothing.

Okay, then I posted this.

First Christmas Card!

In the middle of a bleak week, with end-of-semester grading blues, feeling overwhelmed, getting over bronchitis (but not fast enough) and taking care of my even sicker Chiclette, pondering bad job search news that should be good job search news (more on that later--possibly), having Charlie-Brownish thoughts about my mailbox, I received a Christmas card!! From our own bloggy-friend Sarah from just another day of Catholic pondering. And I've been such a bad blogger and blog-friend lately (and a number of other nouns I could add). Thanks for the smile, wish, greeting, blessing and precious pictures, Sarah! :)

A Further Thought on Anne Rice. . .

I wonder (without investigating it) how much of a repudiation of her earlier literary production is implied in her conversion? I mean, what about that Sleeping Beauty series? As an author, she is of course already distanced from her early works, but really. . . I suppose I'm not supposed to think about this, but well. . . "Forgive me Father. . . Just go read chapters 3, 8, 9. . ." Because I had not previously been Baptized, I was spared the pain and mortification of digging up all of my past since--for better or worse. I probably should have had to do so, though I was thankful that I did not. But when one's sins--intellectually speaking--are part of one's professional ouvre? Most creative writers regard their earlier works with some embarrassment and a little contempt (a former professor of mine referred to his "baby book.") I can imagine the discomfort of having spiritual baggage attached also. After all, I've written poetry myself--and published a poem or two. But I wonder about the practical side--what does it mean to have this side of one's faith--or doubt--on display? Perhaps that in itself is a penance.

Books I Want (to Read)

In my spare time. . . ;)

Cross-posted at Booknotes from Literacy-Chic.

In Barnes and Noble the other day, I was looking in the nonfiction section to try to find a compelling book to replace the one we are currently using in our freshman composition course. I found one that I will be using in my own comp class next semester: Remix: Making Art and Commerce Thrive in the Hybrid Economy. It is a compelling topic that has impact on the life of universities--internet and copyright. Students have been trying to write about NAPSTER since I started teaching, and we are getting to the point where there is abundant scholarly material on the topic. In addition, the book stresses issues of writing and rhetoric and writing. The introduction refers to Lakoff and Johnson, gurus of metaphor and its implications. Another chapter begins with a discussion of use of sources in English papers--perfect! At any rate, I hope so. Of course, the best thing is that these are intellectual topics--subject to some emotional response, but not one that college freshmen (or non-freshmen) will be unable to control--and topics that I wouldn't mind discussing. This should prove to be an interesting book, but not one that I would necessarily read if not for teaching. . .

On the other hand, I found another book in B & N that I would really like to read: Anne Rice's memoir of her return to Catholicism, Called Out of Darkness: A Spiritual Confession. I love conversion narrative--though not the early 17th century kind that you find in American Lit textbooks! I love the book Prodigal Daughters: Catholic Women Come Home to the Church, for example. Interesting thing--like the Anne Rice book, it is not really a conversion narrative, but a reversion--except that a conversion is a "turning toward," so indeed, it is a conversion, just not as "conversion" is usually meant. I have seen critiques of Rice's "brand" of Catholicism--that is, her failure to accept Church teaching on prominent social issues. This is hardly surprising, especially given her connection to New Orleans. On the other hand, it is perhaps important to recognize "conversion" as a process for anyone, including those who already see themselves as faithful Catholics. All of us have moments when we drift, even just a little, and come back, the important part is that we remind ourselves of the True Goal. So I am not looking to Anne Rice as a model of Catholicism, which I hope others do not do. I am well acquainted with Rice's novels, having read the first 4 vampire chronicles--repeatedly--in high school and early in my college career. Interestingly, it was Rice that first led me to investigate the meaning of the words "tabernacle" and "Transubstantiation." That alone is reason for me to read of her spiritual journey. I expect to find more than a touch of arrogance, even in her semblance of humility--but again, I'm not reading her as a spiritual guide, and it takes a bit of egotism to write such a book, though humility is a necessary part of the ethos of such an undertaking (a little rhetorical analysis). I am not particularly interested in her Road to Cana, etc. I picked it up once--in SAM'S club, I think--and was a little put off by the whole project. I'm not crazy about the idea of fictionalizing the life of Jesus. It just seems like treading on dangerous territory--theologically speaking. Remember that arrogance I mentioned? Yeah, that too. What I am primarily looking for in Called Out of Darkness is a feeling. And Rice is particularly good at evoking feeling. And seeing how rooted her feelings are in a particular place, and how we share that place as a common background, and share a common (or uncommon) religious experience, well, I think I could really enjoy reading the book. I told my son the other day that when I was a little girl, all little old ladies were Catholic, and their houses were all adorned with statues of saints and holy pictures. And that created a feeling--something that has become meaningful for me in recent years. I want to read about the influences of the beauty of Catholic culture on Rice, and how it influenced her conversion, since I know--on a level--what she is talking about. Perhaps one of these days I will have the opportunity to read it.

There are two others that catch my attention for cerebral reasons. From the New York Times "Notable Books of 2008":

The Ten-Cent Plague: The Great Comic Book Scare and How it Changed America by David Hajdu

and

A Great Idea at the Time: The Rise, Fall and Curious Afterlife of the Great Books Project by Alex Beam

Because I am sitting down for the 4th or 5th time to try to finish this post, and because interruption seems imminent, I will not give too many of my impressions. After all, I have not actually held these books, I have just seen them online. You can, after all, tell a great deal about a book just from perusing it for 15 minutes--enough to write a decent review! I will say that these are rather predictable choices--being about literacy. Books about books--my specialty!

My Baby Has a Complex

My Chiclette, who is now 1 year (as of November 4), seems to be getting the idea that she plays second fiddle to her sister, who is now 3 (as of October 6), mainly because, up to this point, Doodle has been the "high maintenance" one. As Doodle becomes more cooperative and willing to follow directions--but not much less demanding of my time, since she has been known to respond to Chiclette's cries, whines and wails by promptly claiming her place on my lap!--Chiclette fills in the gap. Although Chiclette has begun diving from the arms of whoever is holding her, lunging toward me in desperation, and snuggling into my shoulder, she is almost entirely unwilling to let me rock her to sleep! Her daddy rocks her to sleep; my sister rocks her to sleep. Even my younger brother--who is 13--was able to put her to sleep one night! But she fights me and fights me, whether nap or bedtime, but clearly WANTS me. And I completely lack patience. It is a symptom of juggling too many thoughts, concerns and efforts all at once. I have rarely nursed her without a computer in front of me. She nurses still--though infrequently (often not infrequently enough for my short attention span)--and has taken to clicking the button on my trackpad while nursing! Unlike Doodle, who didn't care what else I was doing, so long as I had her on my lap--or so long as she could get into it--Chiclette seems genuinely annoyed that her birth order and (previously) easy disposition means, frequently, that she waits a bit for my attention and the fulfillment of her needs. I didn't come to this conclusion all at once. I have been noticing that she seems conflicted about whether she is ready to wean, though she is drinking milk and yogurt, and eating as many meals a day as she can get from us--and though I am very ready. I am aware, also, of my increasing agitation with her clinginess, something I remember from the final days (months) of nursing Doodle, though it extends to times when she is not nursing, but is nervously rubbing her hands on my neck, etc.--a sweet gesture, if it wasn't so insistent!! Nursing my son was never like this, somehow. The girls seem to be using nursing as a way to commandeer my attention in a way that he--well, never needed to do, both because he was the first and because life was simpler back then! So it has been a concern to me that Chiclette won't go to sleep for me--at least without a fight, though she sleeps for others, as I have mentioned. Last night was bad, but today was worse. She was almost asleep once and woke when I received a phone call, then ABSOLUTELY would not go back to sleep. I was even moved to leave her in her bed crying for a bit--something I never do. So I brought her out to play for a while and eat before I had to try again, this time with Doodle along also, which is the norm at night (though that is seeming less advisable lately). This time, I had the task of figuring out what to do with both of them, as Doodle is still rocked to sleep. Doodle was very ready to settle down, but Chiclette was less so. She struggled and fidgeted and struggled, even when I had her more settled and Doodle asleep on my lap. The only way I could get her to settle down was to sing a song with her name as the main lyric. I sang her name and she looked me in the eye and relaxed immediately. No more fidgeting. And finally, she let herself sleep, content that Momma was finally, finally, focusing attention on her alone.

Prayer Request--UPDATE

Please say a prayer for my friend who will be having a C-section today at 4 P.M.--about a week earlier than planned. The baby is at 37-38 weeks, which is very good. Recurrent low levels of amniotic fluid prompted the doctor to move the date up. Everyone is hoping for a healthy baby and momma at the end of a blessedly uneventful high-risk pregnancy.

Pray for the intercession of St. Gerard and Our Lady of La Leche.

UPDATE: The baby was born at 4:40, at a healthy weight and a good length! Thank you for your prayers!

Survey of Academic Blogger Moms

For all of you who have not yet seen or received this, I wanted to post a link to a study that is being conducted by a graduate student in Social Psychology at the University of Connecticut who is conducting a study examining the role of blogging in the lives of Academic mothers. From the email:

Your participation would involve the completion of an anonymous online survey. The survey contains a mixture of multiple-choice and open-response questions, and should take less than an hour to complete. The survey does not have to be completed in one session. You may stop at any time and return later to complete it.

If you know other women who might be interested in participating, please feel free to forward this message to them. Also, feel free to post the link to the survey in your blog.

There are several of you who immediately come to mind as valuable participants in this survey, and I was thinking about forwarding the email, but I thought this might be more efficient. I might still send an email to those who visit less often, so if you see this and plan to participate, could you leave a comment so I won't bug you again? Thanks. Now back to my crying child. . .

Caution: This thing requires a HUGE time commitment! (Though you can save & go back.)

I AM still alive. . .

Just in case you were all wondering. Just very, very busy. I posted some new pics on the family blog, for those of you who are family and friends. There are two new posts. I'm writing a paper today that I was supposed to lead up to on the book blog, but didn't. I need to present the paper Tuesday afternoon.

I have reached a pause and a waiting stage with the job search, having applied to a disgraceful 15 positions. Trouble is, there are not many that I would take if they were offered to me. I am well seated for a job in rhet/comp, but I would rather shoot myself in the foot than try to get excited about making students talk/write about politics. I like teaching writing; I've never been interested in politics. I would much rather have the students think about aspects of their lives that affect them that they may NEVER have to vote on. There are so very many things in life that are arguable. So most of the positions I have applied to combine composition and literature teaching duties. That, I could live with. Most of them have abysmal teaching loads--akin to community colleges, with research requirements. That's not what I've been working for for the past 10 years--at least, unless the classes are small. That would be okay.

I have applied for one position that I would really like to have. It's a very conservative Catholic college. So conservative, in fact, that their health insurance plan doesn't cover birth control! (NOT Steubenville or Ave Maria) (Don't Google it) The subject field is marginally related to mine, but I think I made a good argument for it. I hope. We'll see. It's different. It's challenging. It's interesting. And I don't think I would have to pretend to be something I'm not--at least, not much!

You know, though, I'm not--and I never have been--comfortable being labeled by my politics, which really come down to a choice of the lesser of evils. . . I would really rather be known as a Catholic academic (though really the Catholic part doesn't come up that often, so it's like saying "a Catholic person") who believes in personal integrity and the potential of every human individual. Someone who believes that education can make a difference in the person--I'm not particularly worried about the larger scope. I have my opinions, but that's not really what I'm setting out to change. In a conversation today, I was told, "well, you're more conservative than me, so. . ." (and no reflection at all on the person saying it--that she said it, I mean!--because I don't doubt that it's true, though I think that most of us can find some common ground!!) and while I like that it was acknowledged without insult or judgement, and that there was no assumption that all academics think the same, still there was something a little unsettling about it. . . For one thing, in day to day life, it's not how I present myself to the world.

Still don't want to go to the big convention to be interviewed (potentially)--can't afford it, really. Not having student loans just plain sucks. Besides that I can't leave Chiclette and Doodle. I'm afraid that I would be neurotic with anxiety over leaving them. Chiclette is not weaned, and Doodle--well, it really takes two of us to keep things running smoothly.

I've got a lot on my plate with teaching and thinking about my administrative tasks next semester. Not what I want to blog about. The teaching seems good sometimes, discouraging or overwhelming other times. I do get some kind of satisfaction out of it, but never so much as when it's all over!

Commitments

Taking a few short minutes to post. October promises to be a brutal month. I have deadlines to meet, papers due, papers returned, a test to write and give, and I've really settled in to the drudgery of the semester. I need to finish preparing my application materials and actually print them to mail them. I need to set up a dossier with the career center. I need to revise a dissertation chapter before the "revise and resubmit" becomes a "who were you again?" I don't even have the time to do the things that I need to do, much less the things I want to do. I'm sure I've forgotten something.

I have mixed feelings about going to the national convention where all interviews are held. I have resented from the beginning the "meat market" approach to job hunting, though that's not the whole story. There is a "meat market" quality, but my understanding is that the people who want to play the self-promotion game with no scheduled interviews are the ones who flit from booth to booth handing out their vitas. That is soooo not me! Although I don't see myself participating in that procedure, I also resent the intimidation and pressure of the centralized interviews, the depersonalization, the prospect of interviewing as one of many, many candidates. I also resent the expense of it all. This conference is generally held one of several cities that rank among the most expensive in the country. The scale of the conference is intimidating; the travel is intimidating; the expense is intimidating. I tend to perform well under pressure, but that doesn't mean I can't resent it beforehand!! The conference also takes place at a time that is inconvenient for me--midsemester break, between a prominent Christian holiday and a prominent secular holiday. A time traditionally associated with family, if one goes for that kind of thing. I don't like to leave my family at the most mundane of times. I feel rather like an essential part of my family dynamic right now, and the thought of leaving makes me apprehensive. And I just plain don't like traveling by myself--I've never done it much, really.

So I go back and forth in my mind about the convention--do I go? Do I not go? Theoretically, attendance at the convention should not determine one's consideration for the position--theoretically. Do I go alone? Do I take the family (and drive)? But that's only part of it, really. . .

Graduating has been good for me, in a way. I have more of a feeling of wanting to be involved in the academic community than I have in a while. I have had more interest in developing my own work recently. What I lack is TIME. I'm heading towards becoming burned out all over again, and I'm not even teaching what would be considered a "full load"--I'm only teaching 2 courses this semester and one course (of who knows what, but I've been almost guaranteed that it won't be the one thing I want to teach--a Brit Lit survey) next semester because of my "administrative duties" which have expanded in new and time-consuming directions. Now, the unexpected part is actually the most fun and rewarding, but that doesn't change the fact that it's an incredible demand on my time. The funny thing is, it's probably classified more under "service" (and I don't have a "service" requirement) than with my normal job duties. *sigh* I am trying to wrap up a funded project that is a whole lot of fun, and really excites me, but has been slow going because of constraints on my time and the hours of the archives. My 5-day a week schedule, while good for child care, has made me feel like I'm meeting myself "coming and going," as the expression goes--every time I wrap up one class, it's time to prepare for the next. At times, I feel very competent, with a real sense of accomplishment. Other times I feel swamped, frustrated, or simply--tired. And I'm only teaching 2 classes. Standard load for a job search is 3+ courses each semester. And I tend to get sick of the course I'm teaching halfway through. I sometimes think I would do better in a trimester system, but I can't imagine that that would make me feel less swamped. So while I'm enjoying having--rather than pursuing--the Ph.D., the newfound ambition is overwhelmed by an increase in job duties. I feel like to get the job materials out will mean putting my classes on hold in a significant way. Funny thing is, the materials are already ready! It's a matter of tweaking things for specific jobs and printing!

I don't really feel ready to be on the market. That's where this post has been tending. I think I need this year to do other things. . . Publish, for example. Catch up on some bills. Spend time with my girls while they're still little and need me. Make cupcakes for Doodle's first birthday at school (which was Monday, and which I did!). Make the girls some fall-to-winter outfits. Oh! and get used to a higher teaching load--gradually, if at all possible. There's time for tenure-track when Chiclette is old enough for pre-preschool (a 2-year-old or 3-year-old class). And yet, I don't really want to be stuck doing what I'm doing for too much longer. Non-academic alternatives strike me as 1) boring, 2) more time-consuming. So I'm stuck for now. Anything else would require my husband to change jobs. And really, that's not practical. So I'll go edit a teaching philosophy now (not the thing to do after a crummy morning class. . .)

God's House

Over the summer, Doodle attended the child development center at our parish 3 days/week from 9-2:30. She was in a class with 2's, 3's, 4's, and 5's, in a Montessori-like environment. After a while, I started noticing something. . . Doodle would occasionally tell me about Jesus. "That's Jesus!" with a nod and wide, knowing eyes, pointing, usually I think, to a crucifix. Sometimes she would say, "A Jesus. A God." ("A" or "ah" approximating "it's" or "that's" until recently.) A day or two ago, she found a reproduction of an antique print of the Last Supper. Jesus is holding up bread, in the shape of the Host, representing the institution of the Eucharist. "Who's this?" Doodle asks. "Jesus," I reply. "Yes, Jesus," she says with certainty, nodding. She then proceeds to ask about the apostles, who occupy the edges of the image, though with less interest.

This evening, we got pizza from Papa John's. The franchise we ordered from, for pick-up, was a scant block away from the priests' residence, not two blocks from the church that is the student parish for the university and community college in the area. As we were waiting 5 min. before going in to check on the pizza order, the church bells rang. Doodle perked up, eyes wide, and said, "Listen!" Then she said something through her pacifier that sounded kind of like "God." I wasn't sure, but I started telling my husband about the influence of the church preschool. Then she said again, with excitement, "God! God!" So I asked, "God?" "Yes!" As my husband turned the car around to pull alongside the pizza place, she caught sight of the church (where she and Chiclette were baptized--and me, too!--and my son in the chapel, which is also where we were married. . . so many Sacraments, so many memories!). "There it is!" she said, pointing. "God!" Why yes, yes it is! :)

Remembering What I Like. . .

I love poetry. I love talking about poetry and teaching poetry. I only enjoy rhetorical analysis insofar as it resembles close readings of the language of poetry and discussion of how the poem "works." I like that poetry comes in small packages (usually, that is), and can be read quickly, even on the spot, and yet packs in so much meaning that you can spend hours pondering words and ideas, and always have something to come back to. I love the rhythm of poetry, the way sounds work together. I have not spent so much time working with poetry that I no longer enjoy it--and I don't think that will happen. I fact, I'm not entirely sure I could write a long, conference-style paper on poetry. It's not something I've had the opportunity to try, actually. So the irony is, I'm not technically "qualified" to teach poetry. But I do love it, all the same. . .

Families in the Abstract

Human relationships are difficult. Painfully difficult. The only thing that makes them more difficult than the intangibles already present are material things. I think that there are a number of different ways we can attempt to understand these difficulties--one of which is simply "offering them up". . . Except that that's not really simple. I have walked away from a number of friendships in my life, as I've mentioned before. Indeed, my tendency to cut ties or have people drift away was so pervasive, I feared on more than one occasion that the same would happen to my husband and I when we were dating. At any rate, circumstances did not permit me to screw that one up! I can ask of other relationships what I don't ask of my marriage (because I think the answers are both profoundly simple and simply profound)--what causes relationships to continue? Frequently, the answer is need. Perhaps it is a feature of post-lapsarian relationships that we must need each other in order to overcome difference. But material needs, while binding people together, do so in unpleasant ways. People neither like relying on others, not being relied upon, at least when the understanding is incomplete. Bad feelings fester. Breakdowns ensue. And the temptation is to run away. I am tempted to run away. To never have the bad feelings come up again because I am so far removed from the people and situation that I can happily block it from my mind and get on with my life. And never to be confronted with the judgment, scorn, and misunderstanding of those whom I have helped. In short, the temptation is to end the relationship. For those relationships that I have not been able to simply walk away from, I am grateful. For those I have been able to reconcile, if not mend and rebuild, I am also grateful. I hope to be grateful one day for not being able to flee from the relationships I would like to sever. I'm not there yet.

Lord, make me an instrument of your peace.
Where there is hatred, let me sow love,
Where there is injury, pardon
Where there is doubt, faith,
Where there is despair, hope,
Where there is darkness, light,
Where there is sadness, joy.
O Divine Master, grant that I may not so much
seek to be consoled as to console,
to be understood as to understand,
to be loved, as to love;
for it is in giving that we receive,
it is in pardoning that we are pardoned,
it is in dying that we awake to eternal life.

~St. Francis of Assisi

Sometimes I Get the Feeling. . .

That by choosing to study and pursue what I love, I have lost the opportunity to enjoy what I love(d). To have a mundane job, and to read for pleasure. . . It seems a bit of a luxury.

Working is like Exercise for Me

I came to this conclusion yesterday, at the end of the long weekend, after an unexpected holiday on Friday for the hurricane that went away east. Because for 3 weeks I've been pretty well into the swing of things, managing to get the course prep done, grading a reasonable number of things, and enjoying the classroom dynamic. Admittedly, I'm getting worn down a bit from always being on the go. I have classes to teach 5 days a week, just like in the summer, except that in the summer I gave them Fridays off, and it was only 1 class, not 2. Having 2 classes makes it easy in a way--I don't have to come up with material for one class to fill 5 days' worth of discussion/lectures/activities. On the other hand, when I'm finished with teaching one course, it's time to turn around and work on the next one for the next day. This would be more of a pain if I was less familiar with the material. Although I am teaching from a new syllabus for composition, I have taught composition a hundred times. So I have activities ready-made that I can slip in as necessary. Also, there is a set of ready-made lesson plans to go along with the standard syllabus, though I have problems with some of the examples used, which introduce bias into the discussion in a way that has potential to be used well or poorly. Teaching children's lit similarly requires less prep than it did over the summer, though the classroom dynamic--35 students instead of 10--is vastly different and does not lend itself to the same kinds of activities. Many of my students come from education, and have a very different way of thinking about children's literature, so I have to steer them almost constantly away from the, "This is a good book because it can work well in a classroom in this way. . ." and try to induce them to think about it as literature, not as a prop for teaching. Also, spending the same number of class periods on a topic, but having those class periods spread over 2-3 weeks instead of concentrated in a single week gives everyone the feeling of going nowhere fast. And it's getting depressing. So I'm looking forward to moving on to poetry. But I'm feeling a little discouraged all the same.

So how is working like exercise? Well, when I'm in the middle of it, in the "swing of things," so to speak, I feel pretty excited & good about what I'm doing. It energizes me. After a good class, I'm on a kind of "high." I talk about the class for hours. My husband gets sick of hearing about it! ;) But when I'm away from it, even for a long weekend, especially if I have unexpectedly "gotten out of" teaching for one day, it feels impossible to get back into it. The same thing happens to me with exercise. The same thing happens to me with research and writing. It's why the dissertation seemed to drag--I spent more time dreading the work than actually working on it. Even blogging is like this for me--if I've missed checking on blogs for a number of days, it feels like a huge task to get back into them, even though I know I enjoy it!!

I know this is not the case with exercise, though it can be time consuming, but one of the things that research, teaching, and blogging share is a huge commitment of mental energy. Answering emails is the same. I know, quite often, that if I let myself get started with a blog or an email, I will keep going until it's done, expending a great deal of mental energy and becoming engrossed for hours at a time sometimes. So sometimes, I prefer not to start. Research and writing are similar--the mental effort is considerable, the time commitment is significant, and there doesn't ever seem to be an ideal time to start. Truthfully, sewing is the same for me. When I start a project, I want to know that I can finish the project in a reasonable amount of time--a few days, usually. And that means from cutting out the fabric to pressing the finished item. If I leave something just slightly unfinished, I hate to go back to it. Doodle has a jumper without loops to hold the loose ends of the shoulder straps, and a dress that needs a hook-and-eye above the zipper to look "finished"--minor details, and not very time consuming, but if I haven't gotten the details finished with the rest of the garment, I don't want to go back. I would rather start something new. And if I put a project aside earlier--watch out!! I have to force myself, trick myself, reward myself with the prospect of starting the thing I really want to work on--or it never gets done.

Looking over this, it seems like I have a strange combination of procrastination, obsessive-compulsive tendencies, and perfectionism--the kind of crippling perfectionism that leads one to avoid starting the project for fear of being engrossed in details. I never completed an incomplete because I couldn't find the "perfect" topic to write about. I had set pretty high standards with another paper for the same professor, and didn't want to fall short. So I couldn't do it. The mental block was huge. I think I stopped writing poetry because I stopped thinking that my ideas were poem-worthy--I rather got out of that way of seeing the world.

I got over this to a degree with the dissertation. Remember Dori from Finding Nemo? She sang, "Just keep swimming, just keep swimming, just keep swimming, swimming, swimming. . ." Eventually, I just had to force myself to keep writing, reminding myself that my mediocre writing was usually sufficient for the job I was trying to get done. Teaching has its built-in motivation, thank goodness. The students will keep coming, the semester continues to progress. I can't just stop and dread what needs to be done. Then there will be good days, and I will think, "How is it that I dreaded this so much?" I will go the library to do my archival research and return home excited by all of the ideas that I have had while reading and try to hold on to that enthusiasm until the next week. It's about rhythm, really. It's about routine. Like exercise. But I never can stick with it, somehow. . .

Some Words about Not Allowing Comments

I like comments. Waaaay too much sometimes. I will sit on the edge of my seat sometimes and wait for comments to come in. Well, not really, but it feels that way. Especially when the comments don't come. I watch and wait for a day or two, then I gradually forget that I've written anything at all. With more controversial posts, it is a bit different. It's not the excitement of having someone contribute to a discussion, it's a morbid fascination--the proverbial train wreck. With anxiety, anticipation, and dread, I wait for the lashes. I do the same when I follow heated comments on others' blogs. I can't help myself. This leads to my not posting on certain topics sometimes, until the bottled-up thoughts come bursting forth. And then, the waiting, and the contradicting, and the endless explaining. And that takes up a lot of time that I should be using for other things. Like class prep. Or the job search. Or sewing. Or cooking. Cleaning. Taking care of my kiddos. (Not necessarily in that order. Sewing is first.) This might look like an attempt to avoid a fight. Well it is, but not the way you think. Had I an endless amount of time, and if I really enjoyed that semi-agitated state, I would engage cheerfully in the debate (well, maybe not cheerfully--that's part of the problem). But I don't. And so I was mulling this over, and I thought about something:

All of this commenting really underscores the differences between print and electronic practices of literacy. Some of the age-old accepted properties of written language have been its relative permanence, its separation from the human life-world, its separation from its creator and consequent inability to answer questions that are posed to the text with anything other than the words that were originally set down (with the possible exception of updated editions, but once updated, they are still silent and static). With online communication, much of this changes. Online communication is certainly not permanent. Content is ever-changing, sometimes according to the will of its author(s), sometimes not. I would suggest that in some ways it is still detached from the human life-world, which is one of the problems or dangers of online communication as well as one of its liberating qualities. When discourse is not taking place in real time with real people, one can disregard all of the usual constraints on the content of our discourses, but we also have the freedom to disregard all of the conventions of civility. People are not people online; we have the ability to treat them--individually or collectively--with contempt, disregard, and intolerance. But the most significant difference is that the author is not necessarily separate from the product of his/her literacy. When we imagine someone reading a book, we hardly expect the writer to be standing next to us, answering our questions and objections, tit-for-tat. And that's as it should be. Because if the author knows that anyone who has questions about his/her work will have only the work itself to consult for the answers, s/he has to be more careful about what s/he writes in the beginning. Unlike speech--when we speak, we usually don't have everything perfectly prepared, logically considered. There's a lot of "off the cuff" discourse in face-to-face interaction. Not so in written discourse. But that is changing. . .

When we visit blogs, we generally know that nothing but a computer screen and a semblance of anonymity separates us from the author--or the reader. The semblance of anonymity protects or exposes us, depending--protects us from being exposed personally for our thoughts or beliefs, protects us from being linked with our words; exposes us to the thoughts of others, for better or worse. The proximity allows access. As an author, I know I can be questioned. That I may be called on to explain myself, argue my position, hash out my beliefs. This can be a good thing. As a reader, I know that I can challenge a position, ask questions for clarity, make my alternate theory heard and demand recognition for my alternate theory. I am also free to support, reinforce, or acknowledge others' ideas. Or not. This can make me (or my counterparts) hesitant, aggressive, timid, bold, or. . . lazy. Discourse that can be questioned, after all, and from which we can expect a new answer, does not have to take itself quite as seriously, to be as complete, as refined, as polished. On the other hand, it can be more natural, more accessible (in multiple ways), more tentative, and more mutable--both in terms of its appearance and in terms of the ideas that are expressed, which might stand to change from contact with others.

So, you might ask, did I turn off comments in order to produce more refined, more complete, more polished discourse? Nope. But it made me think a lot about literacy in an online environment, and I decided to share.

Why is "Religious" a Dirty Word?

You see it paired with nasty words like "ideologue" and "conservative," it is not a far reach from there to "extremism" and "theocracy." All who are religious oppose sex ed, endorse book burning (at least metaphorically), probably endorse heterosexual monogamy, or at least pay lip service to it, support the NRA and the death penalty, and want to impose their backward morality on other people's bodies. I think I forgot to mention stupid or ignorant, generally opposed to science and rational thought more generally.

This pretty much sums me up--don'tcha know--so I'm not really qualified to judge the alternative. I just know that they're much, much better than me. Every now & then, you'll hear about someone who claims to be religious and yet still opposes war--another thing religious people don't do--or agrees that permitting abortion is okay. That puts them in the "decidedly not wacky" category.

I'll admit to looking down on Evangelical Christians in my own elitist way, particularly in the past, but lately I feel like I can understand and accept them more in theory, although theoretically I am not an understanding and accepting person. I still shudder at the more touchy-feely types. And I'm still put off by those who declare their love for Jesus above all things in classroom introductions. But they're simultaneously witnessing and being counter-cultural, and who can argue with that?

Anyway, I don't like cultish behavior any more than the next guy, but it really bothers me when just acknowledging that religion plays a significant role in one's behavior, philosophy, politics is enough to invoke scorn, derision, disgust, mockery and, finally, fear. What are they all afraid of? That at the end of the day, those moronic religious (Christian) types might be. . . *gasp, shudder* . . . right about something?

I've been there, my friend.

Equal Opportunity Campaign Humor

This is hilarious. Go see. You will laugh.

Deep Thought

Note to self:

The philosophical questions of life don't seem so burdensome when you just live--work--play--act--do things. . .

Okay, maybe that was a shallow thought.