Sunrise on campus...

31 January 2020: One of the most unexpected changes in my routine (and life) has been my voluntarily getting up and out earlier and earlier. The awful claim I've been hearing for years--that you get so much more done when you start your day earlier--is so, unfortunately. So that's been great in some ways.

But I also know that this early rising and getting to work is coming from a feeling of being unsettled, needing to get more done sooner, a kind of anxious restlessness. In some ways, it's a kind of direct rejection of that whole "balance" plan. I realized, after all, that I am going to lean into work (or at least writing) to get through this whole weird/rough patch. For better or worse, I guess.

Sometimes I think, "No, this is just another way of doing what you've always done but instead of staying up late, you are getting up early." That might be sort of true, but this feels very different. I don't think it's all good.

Yet occasionally, the unadulterated good slips in.

It is so basic and cheesy, I know, but as someone who has always loved a sunset, it's lovely to see the sunrise, its overly ambitious and reclusive sibling. This morning, it was so quiet and peaceful on campus when I stopped to snap these on my way to the office. I am thankful for that experience. I'll keep working on all the other stuff...

"like a bomb—or a tiger"

30 January 2020: “She felt it all right at the back of her throat, like a bomb—or a tiger—sitting on the base of her tongue. Keeping it in made her eyes water” --Rainbow Rowell, Eleanor & Park

Working my way through this gem of a book again with this semester's YA Lit class. Each reading, a new passage stands out to me.

"Depression's Eleven Big Lies EXPOSED!"

29 January 2020: "The seventh lie is that you're worthless. You're not. I promise you that. And you don't have to prove it because it's self-evident and comes as a package deal with personhood itself." --John Moe, on The Hilarious World of Depression

I mean, come on! Tattoo that sentiment on the eyeballs of every person who ever feels worthless. So good and necessary.

I continue to be so impressed by the important work The Hilarious World of Depression does. The episode I listened to this morning--"Depression's Eleven Big Lies EXPOSED!"--provides a terrific example. A compilation of listener input, it lists the lies depression tells people who are going through it.

More posts on this amazing gift of a podcast here.

Little America

28 January 2020: Started watching Little America last night and watched another episode today. What a lovely show! Uplifting, funny, moving, and necessary.

Back to Yes, Please...

27 January 2020: Re-reading Amy Poehler's Yes, Please for my Gender & Women's Studies/Honors seminar and found myself thinking quite a bit about these lines: 

"I arrived in San Francisco [to shoot the final scenes of Parks and Recreation] with that rare combination of sadness and joy. There should be a name for that feeling. Maybe it's 'intimacy.'"

Not sure what to do with that or how to feel about it, but I think it mind of works, at least part of the time. 

"Anxiety"

26 January 2020: Got a lot done today, but towards the afternoon, very little went according to plan. Nothing too awful, but just frustrating. Like trying to set up the new router Xfinity sent that they said would take twenty minutes to set up. Two hours later, my HD cable channels don’t work and I have to reset the wifi settings on every device in the house. And then, in the midst of all that frustration, I start thinking about everything else and spiraling a bit. Sunday blues and all that, too...

And this Jason Isbell song came to mind as I felt my jaw tightening and my mood darkening over things that in the grand scheme of things were pretty minor.



Things are better now. The cable will get fixed, the devices are (mostly) working again, and I am trying to chill for a bit.

You know what else helps? This Jason Isbell song, which speaks to me even if I can’t literally relate to a bit of it.

Parasite

25 January 2020: Finally got to see Parasite tonight over at Hannah and Cory's. All the hype is legit. Definitely one of the best films of the year. In my mind, it's up there with Little Women, but wow...apples and oranges.

"What Happens When I Write a 'Report'"

24 January 2020: "Without being experienced in thinking about writing through the lens of audience and purpose, I could never do this work. Thankfully, because I have been well trained in this area, I find that I can write reports about any subject." --John Warner

Made myself an absurdly ambitious to-do list for today and trying to get started early. But I am grateful for this great piece from Inside Higher Ed, a bit of validation on a Friday morning.

Dreaming of July...

23 January 2020: It's freezing outside here in these late days of January, but I just bought tickets to see Brandi Carlile (with the National Symphony Orchestra--and Tanya Tucker!) at Wolf Trap in July. So excited!

On snapping, missing male students, and other laughs...

22 January 2020: I'm having a heck of a fun time teaching my Gender and Women's Studies/Honors Seminar on gender and humor. Here's a sample exchange to illustrate why:

Me: Did the male student who just added [on Friday] disappear?
Student: Did both of the boys disappear?
Other student: Did we scare them away.
[Pause...]
Third student [quietly]: Oops.

Amazing.

Also today in class, on some sort of weird tangent, I was listing things I've never been able to do, including hit a three-pointer, tie my shoes the normal way, snap my fingers, and whistle. I also told them that anytime you tell people that those last two (especially snapping), they immediately begin doing it, as if to make you feel extra inadequate. After class, a student sent me this clip (of Peppa Pig being upset about not being able to whistle) which delighted me.

So yeah...good class!

"Keeping Pictures, Keeping House"

21 January 2020: “...what is seen is less a fiction invented by the critic than a textual provocation—a call to which we are solicited to respond. Accordingly, as we dwell in the fold where the material and the speculative collapse, possibilities emerge for rethinking sentimentalism and its attendant scripts of race, gender, authorship, and domestic labor.” --Michael A. Chaney (264)

Spent lots of time today reading some Harriet Jacobs scholarship, including Chaney's piece, an examination of a picture (probably?) of Louisa Jacobs that is among Fanny Fern's papers. The Fern/Jacobs connection is one of my favorites ti think about (and tell students about) and this piece really dives into what makes that connection so thrilling.

Work Cited

Chaney, Michael A. “Keeping Pictures, Keeping House: Harriet and Louisa Jacobs, Fanny Fern, and the Unverifiable History of Seeing the Mulatta.” ESQ, vol. 59, no. 2, 2013, pp. 262-290. Project Muse. 

How to Write an Autobiographical Novel

20 January 2020: "I was someone who didn't know how to find the path he was on, the one under his feet. / This, it seems to me, is why we have teachers." --Alexander Chee

Chee's book, a birthday gift from Anna which I only started the other day, is really quiet good. Certainly not every essay is as sweet at the one the quotation above comes from (a reflection on the effect his teacher Annie Dillard had on his life), but each one is certainly enjoyable.

A bit of light on a Sunday

19 January 2020: Quiet and productive (those are linked, of course) day here so far. Yesterday's ice was more or less gone by sunrise, so I headed to campus to put in a few hours of work. Even took the time to wash the chalkboards in our classroom, something I always find soothing and satisfying.*

Came home, took a break, then headed out for a walk after lunch. Thinking big thoughts and wrestling with some gloominess...

Then, as I passed her house, I was so happy to speak to the neighbor I wrote about in this post. She came across the street to congratulate me on speaking at the hooding ceremony. (Not sure how she heard about it...) We talked for a bit about how hopeful such events are. I told her that's part of what's so great about my jobs: people keep coming and wanting to learn. "It keeps you going when you want to give up," I said. "Well, don't you stop!" she added. As I walked on, I told that she had once again made my day. As I write about so often, sometimes you get just what you need when you need it.

*Our (wonderful) facilities staff doesn't have the time to clean them anymore, so those of us who are willing take it on, using a bucket and brush they've provided. I don't mind since, again, it gives me a little break if I am putting in some serious weekend hours and I find it relaxing.

"Let's have an old-world chat / about the original action items"

18 January 2020: Quiet day here. Took a long walk early to beat the bad weather, but otherwise have been inside, cleaning, doing laundry, getting work done, and thinking, thinking, thinking.

The snow was basically a no-show, but it is pretty icy out there (and let's go ahead and let that "pretty" do double-duty, as the tree branches take on a thin clear covering). So at home I've been and at home I'll stay.

Currently thinking, thinking, thinking about this Matthew Zapruder poem, which I just heard him read on the Poetry Off the Shelf podcast. I get a real kick out of something he talks about in the podcast: that the language of business and corporate culture fascinates him and kind of delights him in poetry. He notes, "I mean, it’s not mocking to me. I adore specific language. The more specific and arcane, sometimes the better." I've always felt this way, too, like, for instance, when I overhear half a phone conversation in an airport.

One week down...

17 January 2020: “Mostly demons…” –a student in my ENGL 204 class, when I asked him what he liked to draw. Made me laugh out loud.

So, Week One of the Spring 2020 semester is in the books. Some initial thoughts: my classes are great. They always are, in so many ways, including silly little moments like the one quoted above. It’s such a luxury, gift, and blessing. Hard to imagine what I would do otherwise.

Naturally, I am still getting a sense of the rhythm of the semester. That can take a while. Stayed on campus until 6:30 (11 hours on campus today!) and could have stayed longer. But this isn’t a complaint, I think. In a way, I was glad to have a big old stack of work to do to keep myself (and my mind) occupied. I think my earlier efforts for "balance" are undergoing a shift--more focus on work, but in a different way--and maybe, for now, that's okay.

It’s a quiet evening to kick off what looks to be a quiet long weekend. Some nasty weather (though not too bad?) in the forecast for tomorrow. Making lists and trying to find ways to chase away the shadows. Should be okay…

More Holden wisdom...

16 January 2020: “He said he talked to Jesus all the time. Even when he was driving his car. That killed me. I just see the big phony bastard shifting into first gear and asking Jesus to send him a few more stiffs.” -Salinger, The Catcher in the Rye

Working through some more Catcher this morning and this passage, in which Holden describes a Pencey graduate/benefactor who made his fortune in undertaking, cracked me up. And given the overwhelming hypocrisy on display by so many vocal Christians these days, it sure does seem as relevant a criticism as it was back in 1951.

Gentle reminders...

15 January 2020: "It's funny. You don't have to think too hard when you talk to a teacher." --Holden Caulfield, The Catcher in the Rye

Starting Catcher in the YA lit class on Friday, which meant starting to re-read it today. The lines above made me laugh but also made me think about how sometimes when I am teaching or talking to a student, I don't fully listen or hear what I want to hear. A good and humbling reminder from old Holden.

"...the sympathy of the two schools in their common work"

14 January 2020: Spent some time today reading through Lucy Larcom's Wheaton Seminary; A Semi-Centennial Sketch. I found myself moved by this footnote, where she mentions how Mary Lyon, in the midst of getting Mount Holyoke started, still helped raise funds for Wheaton. The idea of these communities of women supporting each other in the name of women's education is just so lovely and inspiring.

Spring 2020 (!) Semester: Off We Go...

13 January 2020: One day down. Lots to go. I was a bit uncertain heading into today, but I think it went pretty well overall. My buddy Hannah and I are joking about our 2020 motto: "We're trying!" And I tried today. And again, it went pretty well.

Also getting some life from this meme, of the man eating his kebab while a fight rages beside him. I particularly like this version:

pic.twitter.com/8j4yojltQi

— Jessica Knapik ✨ (@JessicaKnapik) January 12, 2020

"I suppose I have to give it to myself"

12 January 2020:

Finished Little Weirds this evening. A strange and fascinating little book. The excerpt above spoke to me on a moody Sunday night.

"It's really got me reeling again..."

11 January 2019:

"The Problem of Self-Care in Higher Education"

10 January 2020: "The difference we make in caring is profound. Care does not guarantee an epiphany. But what it always offers us is insight -- into the lives of our students, into our own lives as well...In our moments of care, we transcend the narrow expectations that critics of higher education have imposed on us. We sculpt, just gently, the paths our students follow. And they, in turn, breathe life into ours." --Douglas Dowland

This is a really lovely, thoughtful, and important piece, well-received on the first "official" day of the semester.

Winter Break Goal List: DONE!

9 January 2020: Just checked off the last item on my "Winter Break Goal List." These were all work-related: course prep, etc. But it feels good to have it all done with a day or so to spare.

Chair-dancing? Why not?

"The Artist Signs Her Masterpiece, Immodestly"

8 January 2020:

This is very good: "The Artist Signs Her Masterpiece, Immodestly," by Danielle DeTiberus.

"...Between this violence and the sleeping
enemies outside, my name rises. Some darknesses
refuse to fade. Ergo Artemitia. I made this—I."

Love this bit of commentary from the poet: "Ultimately, then, this poem is an ode to survivors and to Gentileschi’s exquisitely manicured middle finger to the idea that she could be erased or silenced.”

First snowfall of the decade...

7 December 2020: Moon rising and peeking through the clouds as the snow winds down.

Little Weirds

6 January 2020:

As I continue to stress about getting this last syllabus (for the Gender and Women's Studies Seminar) done, I continue to consume all kinds of potential material to include. At this point, I kind of have to be done choosing--just to stay sane--but I've been on a bit of a Jenny Slate kick. Her stand-up special on Netflix really delighted me. It's funny (duh) and sweet and charming and weird as heck. And she's just so cute and weird. (Note: I've already used "weird" twice and will use it again...)

This evening, I've been making my way through her book Little Weirds, and it is...weird, but in such a cool, interesting way. And I am finding so much to respond/relate to. She's thinking through Big Thoughts (and reveals herself to have always been that kind of person, even as a child) but doing so in strange, wondrous visuals. One passage will make me laugh out loud. The next will baffle me. The next will make me well up.

And right now I find myself wondering if the excerpt quoted above isn't a kind of unspoken mission statement of this blog, especially lately.

****
On a completely separate note, my mother texted us that they had to put Wolfie, their 21-year-old cat, to sleep this morning. He was a cool, sweet, and very weird (hey, there's a connection!) cat. I realized today that he's been around half my life, quite an accomplishment for a cat. He knew and loved Ryan a lot. That was mutual. Anyway, for a regular old alley cat, he had a heck of a life. Well done, Wolfie!

Getting some turkey on Thanksgiving, 2016.

Seen on a Sunday...

5 January 2020: I've been in my office on campus all day, mostly working on a new course prep. If I were a bit more focused, this would go more quickly. And it's a Sunday. And we are theoretically "on break." So this little cartoon, which went by on my Facebook feed this morning, feels pretty darn right.

And yeah, the "seen" in my post's title works in two senses of the word.

Little rant...

4 January 2020: I can’t be the only one who wishes graduate programs would cut it out with the list of specific, detailed questions they ask recommenders to answer in addition to uploading a letter. It’s such an imposition on recommenders who feel additional pressure to get that part right, too, on behalf of their students. So tempted to say “see attached letter” in every single box. (Also kicking around a proposed Newtonian sort of “Law of Letters of Recommendation”: for every letter submitted, a new request will enter your inbox in the next 24 hours…or in this case, 20 minutes.) 

"Sparrow, What Did You Say?"

3 January 2020: I've been getting a fair amount accomplished these past few days, though there is still plenty of time for thinking Big Thoughts and all that. And some of that thinking (most of it?) is connected to thoughts about work, productivity, getting things done. I'm acutely aware that my life taking the shape it has has meant space for certain things that ordinarily might have been filled by other things. Anyway, this poem by Ada Limón, which I heard on the Poetry Off the Shelf podcast this morning, speaks to some of those ideas. I find it quite moving, particularly the way it pays attention to silence, freedom, and images, yet also remains a bit ambivalent about the larger questions at work.

“Sparrow, What Did You Say?”
Ada Limón

A whole day without speaking,
rain, then sun, then rain again,
a few plants in the ground, newbie
leaves tucked in black soil, and I think
I’m good at this, this being alone
in the world, the watching of things
growing, this older me, the she in
comfortable shoes and no time
for dishes, the she who spent
an hour trying to figure out a bird
with a three-note descending call
is just a sparrow. What would I even
do with a kid here? Teach her
to plant, watch her like I do
the lettuce leaves, tenderly, place
her palms in the earth, part her
dark hair like planting a seed? Or
would I selfishly demand this day
back, a full untethered day trying
to figure out what bird was calling
to me and why.

"...the beating curricular heart of the university"

2 January 2020: "What would happen if through some magic spell, first-year comp became the beating curricular heart of the university? What if what was best about composition teaching became the pedagogical default instead of the exception? What if we provided better pay for comp instructors, organized courses around different principles and asked students to slow down and reflect?" --Deborah L. Williams, "How First-Year Comp Can Save the World"

A great way to start the new year: a reminder of the power and potential of first-year writing classes!

Here We Go: 2020 Edition

1 January 2020: Celebrated NYE with the same crew that I celebrated with in 2018 and 2019. A wonderful way to start the new year on a happy note.