"The Light in the Darkness Around Us"

31 January 2018: I have been joking for a while now (well, maybe 30 days?) that January seems like the longest month ever. Like it is January 74th today. It's been a long, hard month--even with all the good stuff. It is so hard to feel alienated and discouraged and like the world is just getting worse. Thus I am so grateful that a friend of mine shared this link today, Parker Palmer's reflection on William Stafford’s “A Ritual to Read to Each Other.” I wasn't familiar with the poem, but it's worthy of careful reading and reflection.

The closing lines:

"For it is important that awake people be awake,
or a breaking line may discourage them back to
          sleep;
the signals we give — yes or no, or maybe —
should be clear: the darkness around us is deep."

"John Henry Crosses the Threshold"

30 January 2018: Digging on this poem tonight. Feels just a bit like counter-programming for the State of the Union, too.

Here's the closing (by Samiya Bashir):

"...and folks thought
I was crazy try’n’a dream us up a
future even if I couldn’t see it
through all that dust       those sudden
                                                                           shouts and screams."

#Squadgoals

29 January 2018: At the end of a long day, it was quite nice to come home and find this waiting in my mailbox. And it is so cool to share the credit with my co-authors, two of the best colleagues I have at Shepherd.

Rasselas

28 January 2018: "'No disease of the imagination,' answered Imlac, 'is so difficult to cure, as that which is complicated with the dread of guilt: fancy and conscience then act interchangeably upon us, and so often shift their places, that the illusions of one are not distinguished from the dictates of the other.'" --Samuel Johnson, Rasselas

Johnson's text, written in 1759, is full of lines of wisdom, but the ones quoted above struck me with a particular poignancy as I read them over today in preparation for teaching the text on Tuesday. Johnson here shows such an astute sensitivity to the human mind--to the powers of guilt and anxiety.

"Having a Coke with You"

27 January 2018: "'Having a Coke with You' is about the everyday moment exalted to a new level of revelry, superseding the varied experiences the world offers, simply because of the presence of another person." --Jac Kuntz, writing on O'Hara's poem.

Kuntz's essay is a lovely appreciation, reminding me of just why this poem is so delightful. O'Hara's voice is so sweet and excited and passionate and funny here, caught up in energizing, transformative love, when the ordinary is extraordinary.

Current favorite lines:

"I look
at you and I would rather look at you than all the portraits in the world
except possibly for the Polish Rider occasionally and anyway it’s in the Frick
which thank heavens you haven’t gone to yet so we can go together the first time."

The Shape of Water

26 January 2018: "But when I think of her - of Elisa - the only thing that comes to mind is a poem, whispered by someone in love, hundreds of years ago: 'Unable to perceive the shape of You, I find You all around me. Your presence fills my eyes with Your love, It humbles my heart, For You are everywhere.'" --Giles, The Shape of Water

The lovely bit of dialogue quoted above made me smile and even swoon a bit. That is how it can feel to be in love, isn't it?

It's been a long week, very good in some ways, but very tough in others. Bad news flooding in from all over...and feeling like there isn't anything I can do about it. The work day ended with a difficult decision (forgive my vague description) at the end of a long day. Walking to my car and then on the brief drive home, I found myself playing upbeat music to lift my spirits. (Thanks, ABBA!) But even blasting and singing along to "Waterloo" probably wouldn't have been enough. It worked out quite well, then, that I finally had the chance to see The Shape of Water tonight. What a beautiful film. Enchanting (though also hard to watch in places) and packed with terrific performances.

Call Me by Your Name

25 January 2018: "We rip out so much of ourselves to be cured of things faster than we should that we go bankrupt by the age of thirty and have less to offer each time we start with someone new. But to feel nothing so as not to feel anything - what a waste!" --Professor Perlman, in Call Me by Your Name

Man, this movie. I feel like I am still basking in its light and beauty a full twenty-four hours after seeing it.

Tom Buchanan

24 January 2018: "Have you read The Rise of the Colored Empires by this man Goddard? ... Well, it's a fine book, and everybody ought to read it. The idea is if we don't look out the white race will be -- will be utterly submerged. It's all scientific stuff; it's been proved." --Tom Buchanan, in The Great Gatsby

We read The Great Gatsby every semester in my ENGL 301 class and I never get tired talking about Tom Buchanan. He's an awful, despicable, deplorable character, but so well-drawn. The "cruel body," the peaking-at-21, the yearning for a lost football game. I say to students, "You know someone like Tom Buchanan," and they nod their heads. He's a villain, but what a villain. (I do think there is a moment late in the book--in the scene where everything comes out in the open--that I do feel a twinge of pity for him, but that's another post, maybe...) The quotation above, in which he reveals his racist anxiety, is so important for understanding how white, male privilege responds when even the hint of a threat emerges.

Just like yesterday, students didn't need me to do anything for them to see Tom Buchanan's (and the damage they can do/are doing) everywhere today. So far, a good week for validating my career choices.

Gulliver's Travels

23 January 2018: "He is taller by almost the breadth of my nail, than any of his court, which alone is enough to strike an awe into the beholders." --a proclamation describing the Emperor of Lilliput, in Gulliver's Travels.

Although just about everything about or current political situation makes me sad, I am grateful (again and again) for reminders of just how relevant classic literature is for our current times. Today we took on Gulliver's Travels in ENGL 311. It wasn't lost on the students how much the petty, malicious Lilliputians remind us our worst selves (and worst presidents, though I let them make that leap on their own). One student rolled her eyes and mentioned the infamous "my button is bigger." And, of course, the kind of behavior Swift satirizes isn't confined to one party or worldview.

So the short version of this post? The humanities matter. (Duh.)

Back to Hemingway, Part II

22 January 2018: A pretty good day all around (featuring amazing "you don't need a coat" weather) and one of the highlights was definitely the first day of discussing The Sun Also Rises with my ENGL 360 students. (I posted about preparing for this class last week.) They love it (so far) and had some really great responses. They are drawn to Brett, even as she troubles then. They are already debating (sometimes with themselves) the big issues. They sighed or just nodded their heads in agreement as I shared my love for a certain passage. The class was a delight. On to Day Two!

"Trust in Me"

21 January 2018:

"Trust in me in all you do
Have the faith I have in you
Love will see us through
If only you trust in me
Why don't you, you trust me" --Etta James, "Trust in Me"

Got back early this afternoon from the short trip to Richmond with my head full of big old thoughts. Took a brief nap with Bing. Took a long walk. Spent the evening working on prepping for teaching Gulliver's Travels and continuing to think those big old thoughts. When this old number came up on Pandora, it seemed to fit the mood, if not the reading material. Ha.

Couch shopping...

20 January 2018: [Catch-up post!] After a lot of searching, Mike--with help from Jane and I--found the perfect couch for his place. So grateful to have had the chance to help him out, spend some time with him, laugh a lot, and focus on the future with an eye (and lots of love) towards the past and memories of Shannon.

Back to Hemingway...

(A rare day with two posts...)

Every time I teach ENGL 360 and go back to The Sun Also Rises, I am charmed, captivated, frustrated, and energized anew by what Hemingway is up to. This early exchange between Brett and Jake kills me:

"It's funny, I said. "It's very funny. And it's a lot of fun, to, to be in love."

"Do you think so?" her eyes looked flat again.

"I don't mean fun that way. In a way it's an enjoyable feeling."

"No," she said. "I think it's hell on earth."

"It's good to see each other."

"No. I don't think it is."

"Don't you want to?"

"I have to."

They are both right, aren't they? And that's why it's fun and hell on earth.

"Sugartooth"

19 January 2018: "What In the world are you going to do when the world has made its mind up about you?" --Brandi Carlile, "Sugartooth"

I have written before about how a Brandi Carlile song has helped and continues to help me process my brother's life and death. Today I listened to "Sugartooth." All I can say is how thankful I am for the gift of this kind of song for those of us who have lost loved ones to addiction.

Some Reflections Upon Marriage

18 January 2018: "But some sage Persons may perhaps object that were Women allow'd to Improve themselves, and not amongst other discouragements driven back by those wise Jests and Scoffs that are put upon a Woman of Sense or Learning, a Philosophical lady as she is call'd by way of Ridicule, they would be too Wise and too Good for the Men; I grant it, for vicious and foolish Men. Nor is it to be wonder'd that he is affraid he shou'd not be able to Govern them were their Understandings improv'd, who is resolv'd not to take too much Pains with his own. But these 'tis to be hop'd are no very considerable Number, the foolish at least; and therefore this is so far from being an Argument against their Improvement, that it is a strong one for it, if we do but suppose the Men to be as capable of Improvement as the Women, but much more if according to Tradition we believe they have greater Capacities." --Mary Astell, Some Reflections Upon Marriage

Each time I read Astell's text, which we discussed in my ENGL 311 class today, it surprises me with its relevance to our day and age. Especially during our current cultural moment, Astell's point in the section quoted above--that men are capable of improvement when it comes to their views on women--strikes me as both hilarious and hopeful.

My students today--all women, interestingly--loved the piece and Astell's wit. And they get it. In the words of one of them, "This text is dangerous."

"Uncharted"

17 January 2018:

"I'm going down
Follow if you want, I won't just hang around
Like you'll show me where to go
I'm already out of foolproof ideas, so don't ask me how
To get started, it's all uncharted" --Sara Bareilles, "Uncharted"

Heard this song first thing today and it's been on my mind all day. Things do feel a bit "uncharted" lately--which is scary and exciting.

The Way of the World

16 January 2018: "I understand nothing of the matter: I’m in a maze yet, like a dog in a dancing school." --Witwoud, in the last act of Congreve's The Way of the World

I taught this play today in my ENGL 311 class. It's only the second time I've done so and it still presents a lot of challenges. And it still makes me feel a bit like Witwoud in this passage. But my class and I had a great discussion today. Sometimes that dog in the dancing school can have fun, or at least entertain the other patrons. 

"When You're Gone"

15 January 2018: Really sad to hear the news about Dolores O'Riordan today. The Cranberries were an important part of the soundtrack of some foundational years in my life. I could link to so many songs, but this afternoon/evening, this is the one that's been on my mind. I can remember playing it (on repeat, sometimes!) through some angsty moments, but the lyrics take on a new resonance today.

Dick: A Card Game

14 January 2018:

Hannah: "Men or cheese, T. Which is it?"
Tim: "Cheese."

This context-less exchange brought to you courtesy of "Dick," the game I spent hours playing yesterday with Tim, Cory, and Hannah. I bought Tim the game for Christmas and almost immediately he was like, "Game session at my house on MLK weekend?"

So much fun. A terrific day.

"I Made the Pizza Cinnamon Rolls from Mario Batali’s Sexual Misconduct Apology Letter"

13 January 2018: A solitary Saturday for me, not that I am really complaining. Staying busy with cleaning, reading, laundry, and a good long (and very cold!) walk. One of the highlights, at least intellectually/emotionally has been this wonderfully smart, sad, moving, and sometimes laugh-out-loud funny piece.

"Isn't This a Lovely Day?"

12 January 2018:
"Let the rain pitter patter
But it really doesn't matter
If the skies are gray
Long as I can be with you it's a lovely day." --Ella Fitzgerald and Louis Armstrong, "Isn't This a Lovely Day?"

Perfect song for this rainy evening. (Strange weather, though: near 70 this afternoon, poured this evening--thunder, even--and might snow tonight...)

The Post

11 January 2018: The Post is a very well-made and fun movie. It isn't the greatest movie I've seen this year, but it sure is good at what it does. And, as I watched it tonight, it was clear that it wears its heart on its sleeves: Spielberg and his cast and crew knew that the film's message--that a free press is vital to democracy--needed to be heard today. On a day when the president uses the phrase "shithole countries," when things just get worse and worse, that message was especially welcome.

"Dancing Backwards in High Heels"

10 January 2018: I first heard about the study discussed in this piece a few days ago and found it both validating and depressing. Because in my bones, I know it is true. And almost all of my female colleagues would agree. And it does get wearying. And it does seem unfair at times. Even my dear "work husband" just doesn't get it. He tries, but he doesn't. And that's not his fault. He has the "good" reaction, which is "I don't understand, but I believe you."

As for the "bad" reaction(s), well, some of them are there in the comments. As always, though, don't read the comments, even though the ones here are relatively tame. But I will talk about the comments a bit: the fact that there are people in them trying their hardest to disprove what so many of know to be true is a further testament to the systemic problem. And it's not just this system, of course.

So yes: it's good to feel seen, even if so many are still trying to say "that's not what we are seeing."

Second "First Day"

9 January 2018: I am teaching five days a week this semester--for the first time in a long time (not counting the fall semesters when I teach one-third of Intro to Women's Studies). The reason for my weird schedule this semester is complicated, but needless to say, I wasn't thrilled. It is one of those "taking one for the team" moments and I am getting a bit weary of that. But ever onward, I guess?

So it was a relief (that shouldn't have surprised me) that the class this afternoon was lovely: a small group of all women, each of whom I've had in class before, each of whom I am happy to see again. I even made them sit through a boring lecture on the Restoration and Eighteenth Century and they listened and applied what I said to a short poem we read. These are those kinds of students.

Here's what I am taking from this: teaching every day will absolutely challenge my ability to get my research/writing done as it will make it harder to set aside blocks of time. And it will even make it harder to get service obligations done. It will just be different and I tend to hate "different." But I am also realizing that it might be a tough-ish semester for other reasons, so maybe I ought to be happy that my TRs will now include at least 75 minutes a day in the classroom and, as I wrote about yesterday, that's almost always a good thing.

Spring 2018: Go! Now stop!

8 January 2018: Odd day today, thanks to the weather. I was already feeling strange about this semester (for a number of reasons...maybe I will write about them at some point) and really weirdly not particularly excited for the first day. I told a friend I have never felt less excited for a first day. Now relatively speaking, that doesn't mean I was dreading it or anything...I just wasn't really looking forward to it.

But the first class started at 9:10 and it went great. Awesome students (so far?). Great conversation as we discussed the syllabus and Chopin's "The Story of an Hour." So that got me jazzed. That old magic, you know? I always feel better in a classroom.

The class gets out at 10:00 and a colleague tells me that the campus is closing at 11:00 because of the incoming ice/snow. Probably the right decision, but man, did it throw things off...logistically and emotionally, too. That "let's go!" energy? Stopped in its tracks.

So it's been an odd afternoon/evening, home alone by 11:30 on a Monday with lots of time to think.

I did just take a long walk in my neighborhood, which, like the classroom, always helps. (So do Yak Trax; forever grateful to Jane for introducing me to these!) Anyway, we'll see what tomorrow brings.

A little warm-up...

7 January 2018: It's still pretty cold out, but just a bit warmer than it has been. With the Sunday blues kicking in, those few extra degrees of warmth made an evening walk possible. (Yesterday was just too cold.) And I needed that walk in the worst way. The pretty sunset helped, too.

"Our Love"

6 January 2018: In marked contrast to yesterday's post, there's this song: loud, fast, and peppy as heck (despite some dark content). Just heard it for the first time this morning on a drive. Perfect.

"Follow You Into the Dark"

5 January 2018:

Been humming this song for the past few days, I think, almost like a quiet mantra. I don't really know why, though I suspect it has something to do with its soothing message and sound. That's welcome right now for a couple of reasons. And boy, is it a good "huddle down and keep warm" song for these cold days.

Record Breaker...

4 January 2018: I've been to two Shepherd women's basketball games this season and at both games Morgan Arden, a senior, broke records. In the game I saw just before Christmas, not only did she win the game with a buzzer-beating three-pointer (one of the most thrilling live sports moments I've ever seen), but she also became the all-time leading scorer in Shepherd history. It was amazing.

Tonight, she scored 40 points and broke the Shepherd record for most points in a game. It, too, was amazing. My favorite part, though, was watching her face tonight as she realized how "on" she was, sinking basket after basket (so many from downtown, too!), hitting nothing but net. I leaned over to Amy and said, "Look how much fun she's having." But it was so charming because she was also trying to keep a game-face on. I am sure it's a night she'll remember for a long time. And I'll remember how much fun it was to watch her having fun.

Three Billboards

3 January 2018: Three Billboards outside Ebbing, Missouri is a superbly acted film. I am glad that I saw it and I think I would even recommend it to people. But I found it infuriating. Dixon, played by Sam Rockwell, is a monstrous character whose “redemption arc” is simply unearned. His rehabilitation perhaps even sends a dangerous message.  Maybe calling it a “redemption” or “rehabilitation” is an overstatement/misrepresentation of Martin McDonagh’s (the writer/director) intention/purpose. But it is, I think, indisputable that McDonagh’s film asks us to equate his character’s actions and rage to Mildred’s and that is, to me, just a false equivalence. And I can’t even get started on the film’s treatment of policing and race. By the film’s end, my jaw was tight with tension. Ugh.

I do wonder how my experience would have been different if I hadn’t just finished The Sunflower and didn’t have questions of forgiveness and redemption on my mind…

The Sunflower

2 January 2018: In the closing section of Part I of The Sunflower, Simon Wiesenthal, after recounting the story of a dying SS officer asking for forgiveness for his crimes, writes, "You, who have just read this sad and tragic episode in my life, can mentally change places with me and ask yourself the crucial question, 'What would I have done?'" (98). It is a fascinating question, almost impossible (for me) to answer. Part II, “The Symposium,” collects responses from dozens of experts (from various disciplines, backgrounds, regions, and religions).

I read The Sunflower as part of my once-a-year, over-the-winter-break Common Reading Selection Committee work. It is important and unsettling and has kept me thinking about it for days. I suspect it will stay in my mind for a very long time. I have no real idea what I would have done in Wiesenthal’s situation. And it is fascinating to read all the different perspectives in the Symposium. I learned a lot about the differences, for instance, between Jewish and Christian ideas about forgiveness. I am glad to have read it.

2018: Here we go!

1 January 2018: As I alluded to yesterday, I haven't decided on a blog theme this year. I've been thinking about it for awhile and nothing really came to mind. So instead, I am simply going to aim to post something every day. That's enough. And I have a feeling that the previous three themes that I've done--"a year of thanks," "one good thing," and "listening"--will provide some guidance, almost like templates.

So here we go...my first post of 2018 is a combo "one good thing"/"thanks" post. I am so thankful for these amazing friends who helped me welcome the New Year.