Boy Toys

When my boys have moved away from home can I still buy Legos and K'Nex???? I hope so, or will I have to wait for the grandkids? We were a Legos family for a long time. We have bins and bins of them. The boys would build the model, then reuse the pieces for a variety of other structures and vehicles. I liked Legos. Then Legos started their downhill slide. I don't know what market they were trying to appeal to, but it wasn't ours. I think it started with Bioncles, which weren't really models anymore, but some kind of action figure. In any event, over the years our interest in Lego kits waned. But, then K'Nex entered the home. They aren't quite as versatile as Legos, in my opinion, but their kits are more fun. We just finished building the motorized madness ball machine....it's cool. A chain lifts balls up a tower and then they fall 3 different ways back to the bottom. When I get to a computer that I can hook up to the camera I'll post a picture.

What do I like about these kits? I think I like following the directions! I like the fact that you can follow the steps and make something. I don't have the fine motor skills to build tiny model cars, or do fine needlework. But I do like having a finished product from my efforts. I like the whole building process. I'm not that interested in making something new or different from them, I just like going through a process step by step and ending up with the "right" thing. It's like following a recipe, which I also like to do...so K'Nex are just like baking, except you can't eat them when you are done.

The Christmas Letter

I enjoy getting Christmas letters from friends. Many of the people who write are folks we haven't seen face to face (f2f for the net savvy!) for many years. Still, I enjoy hearing about their children, and increasingly, their grandchildren. I am, however, pretty bad about mailing my own Christmas cards. Each year I think it will be different, but it never is. We write a letter, and even send it out to some folks. But not enough. On days like today I think of all of the folks to whom I wish I would have mailed cards. I should make a list...Kerry, Anne, Mark, Stacy, Val, Sam, Jim, Gretchen and Gretchen...maybe I'll remember next year. In any event, for those who read this, here is our Christmas letter for 2008...

2008 was another busy year for the Himes.

Doug is in the midst of his senior year and taking full advantage of the privileges associated with that status. His college applications are in, we think. He is likely staying in the Central New York area and planning to study engineering. He still plays the mallets in band, chess in local, state, and national tournaments, and whatever the sport of the season happens to be. His soccer team made it to the state semifinals, losing that game on penalty kicks after 2 overtime periods. Back in the winter, the basketball team also advanced into regional play. In golf, Doug played in the sectional tournament on a rainy cold spring day. He has added barbershop chorus to the schedule as well, and is a great bass singer.

Evan is finishing middle school with a flourish. He just finished playing Augustus Gloop in the school musical, Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory. He scored his first goal in soccer this fall and is working towards his TaeKwonDo black belt. Evan inherited his mother’s love of books and is an avid reader. He has joined the math club and loves to do anything associated with computers and robots. Evan also plays the mallets in band and chess in local, state, and national tournaments. The boys claim to have the “mallet dynasty” at school and Fabius-Pompey will have 8 straight years of Himes men on the mallets in the high school band.

This summer we hosted Tom, a coach with the British soccer camp that both boys attended. It was fun to have another young man in the house and the kids picked up several new English phrases. Maybe some of his soccer skills rubbed off, too. Earlier in the summer we spent a week vacationing nearby at DeRuyter Lake. It is great to be “away” but not too far away. Chris and Craig enjoyed a trip down memory lane at the reunion of the Chesterton High School speech and debate program. The whole family just returned from the National Scholastic Chess tournament in Orlando (Chris and Craig relaxed while the boys toiled over the chess boards, but let them miss an extra day of school to visit Epcot.)

Chris has completed her term as department chair at SU and is now enjoying a year of sabbatical leave. She is doing some research, grant writing, and organizing the family photo collection (or so she claims).

Craig continues to manage his recruitment and placement business from his home office. He coaches the school chess team and does some substitute teaching. This year he made a foray into the political world, serving as campaign treasurer for a friend running for town board. She won, and, so far, has not been audited, so all is well.

We hope this holiday season finds you all in good health and spirits!

The Office Party

Since I have been married I have spent very few Christmas Days at home. Early on, my husband and I would alternate spending Christmas and Thanksgiving between our families. After our first son was born we kept up the tradition. Thirteen years ago we moved to the Syracuse area and son number 2 was born. Still, we traveled at Christmas. I think the first Christmas the kids spent at home was in 2001, when we had just returned from our Germany sabbatical. Since then I think we have spent 2 other Christmas days at home. I used to feel like the kids were missing the excitement of Christmas morning, but we always celebrated "Christmas Day" before we left, even if it wasn't on the 25th. In some ways when they were younger it seemed to matter less.

But, I do have a little hang-up about traditions. My grandmother made us Christmas stockings when we were infants. She embroidered and appliqued designs on each. Over time these stockings faded and the stitching started to fray. One year my mother decided to spruce them up (a fitting holiday term) with some new decorations. I was dismayed. My stocking had been altered without my permission! It wasn't exactly the same. I think in the end I tore off all of my mother's handiwork. I wanted my original stocking, frayed or not.

I wanted our kids to have some traditions that they would remember and would make up, in some way, for not having the traditional Christmas morning. When we moved here my husband started his own business with a home office. The first Christmastime here we decided to hold an "office party" in that office. We hung special decorations, made special treats, and played Christmas music (Twisted Christmas is a popular favorite). Over the years the tradition has been maintained. The menu stays pretty much the same--including IBC root beer for the kids, shrimp cocktail for the parents. We all look forward to the evening and enjoy some time as a family. I'm glad that we have kept it up. Maybe some day the boys will complain when I try to vary the menu, but hopefully the tradition will carry on.

Cooking with kids

I like to bake. I'm not so big on cooking, as in meat and vegetables, but I like making cookies, pastries, etc. Always have. My mom used to let us make all kinds of things--angel food cake, cream puffs, cookies and cakes. Most of the time they turned out well, but I do remember a recipe where I left out a key ingredient in a boston creme pie (I think it was baking powder...) and the end result was pretty dreadful. Live and learn.

My son likes to bake, too. He usually doesn't like to eat the stuff he makes, no matter what it tastes like. So, I don't let him do it that often, because I can't eat a whole carrot cake by myself (well, I could, just don't want to.) He is pretty adept in the kitchen, but there are times when I am about to lose patience...well, maybe I DO lose my patience. We have one of those battery operated cookie presses that we usually use to make spritz cookies at Christmastime. Being Christmas time, we decided to whip up a batch. We got out the appliance, the recipe book, etc. Son decided that instead of spritz, maybe we should make cream puffs instead. Cool. He put the machine together while I mixed up the dough (very easy recipe.) We loaded the shooter but it wouldn't work, took it apart, re-read the assembly directions, put it back together. Still not right. Finally it dawns on me that the shaft is moving the wrong way--he put the batteries in backwards! Okay, fix that problem. Load up the dough, shoot it on to the cookie sheet and bake. This is the only reason to bake a recipe with this appliance, getting to shoot the dough onto the sheet. He has now discovered a whole host of other treats we can make and shoot...

But, they turned out GREAT!! We decided to make them into profiteroles, because I didn't feel like making a custard filling. Filled them with vanilla ice cream, topped with chocolate sauce, EXCELLENT! Ours looked just like this, really, they did!

Travel

I love traveling, in theory. I like visiting new places, returning to old places, the planning, the anticipation. What I don't like are the hassles. Our trip to Florida was fun and relaxing. We were trying to minmize the time out of school, but maybe we cut it too close. We departed Syracuse on Thursday afternoon, a 5:30 pm flight, so the boys could get in a full day of school. Got to the airport, flew to Atlanta, all is well. Our flight out of Atlanta, however, was delayed for some reason...don't even remember what it was now. Fortunately, our plane had those little individual TVs and everyone could occupy themselves that way. We got into Orlando late and then had this incredibly long wait to get our rental car. I have never had to wait so long to get a car that already been reserved, especially at midnight. I know this was compounded by the fact that we used Priceline and wanted an economy car. They didn't have any keys ready and were not going to upgrade us when we only were paying $15 a day. We drive to our Disney resort and encounter another incredibly long line to check it. Again, everyone had reservations, they knew we were all coming, what was the hold up? One contributing factor was that for each reservation the desk clerk had to walk into a back room to get the printed information. Most hotels now have printers at the desk, not Disney I guess! We collapsed in bed at 2 am.

The way home started with nobody around to check in the rental car, long security lines at Orlando, but at least the flight was on time, and not too crowded, either. Left Orlando on time and flew back to Atlanta. Our 9:50 PM departure now read 11:20...not good. A 2 hour layover became 3+ hours, after a long day at Epcot, we just wanted to get home. We did finally board just after 11 and landed about 1:30 in Syracuse. Home by 2:15 AM. Should the boys go to school or not? Older son was up and out on time, we let younger son sleep in a bit.

The real effects, of course, hit the next day. You can make it through the first day on sheer will power, then it catches up with you....time for a nap!

Chess People

I do not play chess. My sons play chess. I have no patience or interest in learning the game. They seem to enjoy playing, so we are currently in Orlando, Florida at the K-12 National Scholastic Chess tournament.

It will come as no surprise to hear: chess people are weird. No doubt about it. First, people who play chess cannot walk. Everyone is absorbed in some mental gymnastics making it virtually impossible for them to walk in a straight line, be aware of their surroundings, or change course. Add to that the fact that most of the 2000+ people here are kids under the age of 10, and you are running into people (literally) all the time. Second, people who play chess dress oddly. We have kids with Viking hats, Santa hats, backward ball caps and mirrored sunglasses. Yesterday I saw a dad and son dressed in some 1920s gangsta style. The dad has on a plaid suit and fedora, the kid is decked out in knickers, with suspenders, and a beret. It was like they stumbled off of a movie set. Lastly, many of the kids who play chess have limited social skills (fortunately, not true of my kids!) Last night my 12th grader was seated next to a young man and and his female opponent. Remember these kids are 17-18 years old. The lady asks for help spelling his name to record on her scoresheet. The young man spells out a complicated name. She asks, "Oh, are you Russian?" (lots of chess people are Russian.) "No," he replies, "I'm Polish." "Oh, can you speak Polish?" The guy says, "Alas, I do not." My son is rolling his eyes. What contemporary teen uses "Alas" in ordinary conversations??? Only a chess playing teen!

School Delay

We all woke up this morning and did our morning things. The boys have their routines down to a science, they get up at 7:00 and leave the house about 7:20. Now that Doug drives to school they actually leave a little earlier than the bus because they have to backtrack to get the girlfriend. Anyway, I walked out to get the paper and there was a brisk wind blowing that had drifted a little snow across the driveway. The boys departed and I snuck back into bed, intending to read for about 15 minutes. I turned on the radio and just caught the end of the school delay message. I heard our school mentioned, but not the time of the delay. I bustled out to the living room and surfed the channels to catch the scrolling school delay messages. Sure enough, FP had a two hour delay. I called the boys on the cell phone, they had just arrived at girlfriend's house. They turned around and came home. What a treat! Time for a little Guitar Hero before school! We all could have used an extra hour of sleep this morning, but given that we are all up and fed, it is nice to have some "found time." I guess the drifting was bad enough on our rural roads that the buses could not navigate.

I remember in high school our school would sometimes have "late start" days when the teachers would have in-service meetings in the morning. It was a nice break to come into school a little later than usual, changed the whole character of the day. I much prefer "late starts" to "early dismissals."

Ready for the Christman Season

I'm finally beginning to get into the Christmas mood. Two girlfriends met me for lunch today at our favorite French restaurant and then we walked across the street for a Christmas chorale concert. It was a nice performance, a beautiful church, and even had a sing along part! Some of the program notes were interesting. They performed a version of Pacem that I had never heard before (we all remember the old Girl Scout version....dona nobis, pacem, pacem....) Anyway, turns out this arrangment was by a guy named Lee Dengler who grew up as a Mennonite and now teaches at Goshen College in Indiana. The Mennonite influence was evident in the composition and I really enjoyed it. I wonder if I can find a copy online anywhere....Another composition was by a Belgian composer and this was the program note.."Noel Goemanne (pronounced 'Whoo-mahn' in Belgium, and every other way possible in the United States." I thought it was great quote! The final program note of interest was for a verion of the Lord's Prayer composed by one of the chorale members. The note for that song, written by the composer reads in part, " He has no formal education in music theory or composition...Not surprisingly, The Lord's Prayer is deceptively difficult to perform, being somewhat complicated and unpredictable." Reminds me of my kids composing things on the computer that could never be performed in real life!

It was a great way to get into the holiday spirit, topped off by the 4 inches of snow that fell while we were inside!

Middle School Romance

Remember middle school, possibly the worst years of your life? This week my younger son performed in the middle school musical. He did a fantastic job, sang wonderfully, looked great, got plenty of applause (of course, I am his mother!) Cast members arrive about 90 minutes before showtime to get into costumes, arrange props, get makeup (a highlight for the girls and a source of embarrassment for the boys), and generally work each other up into an increasing state of nervous frenzy. When we arrived my son's best friend pulled him aside, "I need your help!" he whispered and they ducked into the men's room. A few minutes later my kid comes out with a determined look on his face, "I have to do something for Sam, " he calls as he runs down the hall and into the lobby. There are a variety of concessions--candy, drinks, photos, DVDs, and flowers for family and friends to buy. A while later I see the two of them with a red carnation, headed back to the bathroom. As much as I love my kid, I'm thinking this flower is NOT for me. Soon, another boy is called in for consultation. The three of them conspire for a bit and next time I look around Hannah is holding a red carnation....hmmm, how did that happen? I had heard that Hannah and Sam were "dating" from my son, so I had kind of figured out the reason for the drama, but it was still fun to watch. Later, my kid told me that Sam had wanted him to give the flower to Hannah. My son's response, "I don't think that would look too good. She'll see me coming towards with a flower and think, 'oh no, not him!' " (A romantic in the making, my boy!) In the end, Sam handed over the gift, probably the only contact the two principals had the whole evening.

Young love, can't beat it.

Horizontal leadership

The other day our department had a visitor who talked about the "horizontal leadership" in some social movement organizations. The basic idea, I guess, is that decision making is shared and that all members have ownership of decisions and input in discussions. I can see how this, in theory, makes people feel more vested in the outcome, how it is more inclusive than the traditional "vertical leadership" model, and why it has developed as an alternative to leadership models that have marginalized groups of people. BUT, I just don't get it. I guess I'm too old, too conventional, or too authoritarian. It seems like, in the end, someone needs to be "in charge." I am totally in favor of inclusive decision making, sharing responsibility, and consensus building. BUT, doesn't somebody, in the end, have to take the lead? Who communicates decisions to others in and out of the organization? With whom do those outside of the organization direct their comments and feedback? Is the lost efficiency worth it?

Long car trips

We have always taken long car trips. My husband and I drove to Florida and back for our honeymoon, we regularly drove to Colorado when we were first married, and now, with the boys, we drive from Syracuse to Indiana a few times a year. The trip takes about 11 hours. Our kids are great travelers, always have been. I don't know if it is a natural temperment, or good parenting, or what (I like the parenting explanation!) The kids listen to songs, read, we play games, and we talk. Some if it is just mindless banter, but even in that there are some important tidbits that slip in. Last month I made the trip alone, and really enjoyed that, too. You get set up with some drinks, some snacks, books on tape, good music on the ipod...it is like being in your own private little world.

Teacher Conferences

Just came back from my last ever "official" parent-teacher conference for my 8th grader. From now on we meet only with teachers on an "as needed" basis. This was my son's best conference ever. These teachers seem to understand him better and are willing to work around his quirkiness. For instance, if he finishes work early, he pulls out a book to read. Some teachers find this terrribly annoying. Personally, I view it as a good coping strategy...so do these teachers. That's good. He is a child who never studies, likes to work independently, and wants to be challenged. He is mostly bored at school. These teachers kept saying, "he's a great kid," "contributes a lot in class," "has interesting ideas," etc. I kept looking for the negative--"is he disrespectful?" "does he pay attention?" "is he disruptive?" It was a great way to start the Thanksgiving week!

Soccer, musicals, and physics

It has been a busy week for us. On Saturday my son's soccer team played in the state semifinals..and lost. It was heartbreaking. It has been a hard year in some ways for my son, a senior, and I have so much respect for the way he has handled the year. He thought he would be a starter, but ended up not even getting into some games. He didn't complain or grouse. We talked about playing as well as he could when he did play, and he did. On Saturday, the last game of his high school career, he had the best game of his life. A good way to end.

On Friday my other son will be performing in Willy Wonka, the middle school musical this year. He enjoys being on stage, acting, and dancing. I am glad to see him involved in the program and hope that he continues to find joy in acting. He is also going to join the math league, so he is diverse.

Right now they are both watching Mythbusters, one of the favorite programs in this household. At the same time, my older son is doing his physics homework and explaining to his little brother all about vectors and the force of gravity. I love to just sit back and listen to them.

Book Reviews

I have read some books recently that I would recommend to others. Here are a few of my recent favorites.

Out Stealing Horses by Per Petterson. An outstanding novel translated from Norwegian. I think I have already written about it here, but I feel like I can't talk about it enough. The story revolves around an older man who moves to rural Norway after his wife dies. The themes of loss, solitutude, and dealing with the past are prominent. The writing is sparse, but the descriptions of place and events is very powerful. It is a book that just really hit home for me.

The Outlander by Gil Adamson. A novel set in the early 1900s in western Canada. The young woman in the story is fleeing her brothers in law after the murder of her husband. She teeters on the brink of sanity as she escapes across the wilderness. Adamson is a poet and her language and descriptions have a lyrical quality. The story is compelling and, ultimately, leaves you with hope.

There are more, but I'll save those for another day.

The bane of my existence

A few years ago I agreed to take on the role of secretary/treasurer for a professional organization. A good friend and mentor of mine had done this for many years and was anxious to unload the job. She assured me that it would be fairly straightforward. It is not. It is a constant source of irritation and annoyance for me. The organization publishes a journal, but we are 2 years behind. We manage our own subscriptions, so I get all the checks, claims, complaints, etc. I cannot keep track of it all. The mail is still often sent to her, which she forwards to me in bulk packages, months later. I can never keep up. I hate the job. I regret the day I ever agreed to do it. I want to quit. I need to find someone as naive as I was. But first, in all good conscience, I need to get the current situation under control. Hopefully we will find a new publisher who will take over all of the subscription management. I can only hope.

The last acceptable stigma

Tonight I made my son a "fat suit" for the school musical. He is playing Augustus Gloop in the musical, Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory. He is slim, Augustus is a character who eats constantly and is overweight. So, some extra padding was needed. The irony of the situation is that I do research on obesity, primarily on the health effects, but also on the social stigma attached to those who are overweight. There is some really interesting research on the negative connotations associated with those who are overweight--they earn less, are less likely to be hired, are less likely to be invited to social events, the list goes on...I felt a little guilty creating a costume for my son that perpetuated the stereotype of those who are overweight as lazy, lacking self control, and unmotivated.

Happy Day at Home

We had a happy day today in the Himes household. Son #1 is a member of the varsity soccer team and they won their regional game, putting them into the state semifinals. Who-hoo! Unfortunately, I wasn't able to see the game because I was with son #2 who was playing in the All-State band. He and I had a great discussion about Bach fugues on the way home. What a nice problem for a mom to have--trying to be with two great kids in two wonderful places at the same time!

New Day in the USA?

There is a lot of excitement in the air. The victory of Barack Obama has brought together many people who are hoping for a new America.

I sat with tears on my cheeks watching and listening to his victory speech. I liked how he was able to bring in elements of Lincoln, King, and others to emphasize the importance of the win. He has great speech writers. When I read political speeches from the past I am often impressed with the language used, the strength of feeling, and the depth of the content. I think Obama has that gift as well.

I hope that the new direction of the country is actually more centrist than left. I think younger voters are more pragmatic than ideological...let's get done what needs to be done. I think it is time to turn away from political partisanship and to work towards solutions to problems, solutions that are not unique to any one political party.

Think I can get a job in DC?

Election Day and Grandma

Election Day. It always reminds me of my grandmother. Growing up , GM, as she was known to us, was the Democratic precint committee chair. Because she needed to have a vice chair, my dad served that role, but I don't remember him ever doing any active political work. GM, however, had us stuffing envelopes and delivering literature from a young age. We would stand outside polling places with signs, help keep track of who voted, and attend political rallies. The Democrats always had a chicken barbeque that she would take me and my older sisters to attend. I even remember going to a fancy fundraiser for someone...can't remember who now! As I got older, my interest continued and as a teen I worked tirelessly for the campaign of Floyd Fithian, who ran for Congress. If I remember right his opponent was a guy named Landgrebe....but I could be wrong. Floyd had gotten a high school boy interested in his campaign, and Dave recruited most of his friends to work along with him. Dave had been diagnosed with leukemia earlier and decided to drop out of high school and work in politics full-time. He died a few years later, and I hope he thought that he had made the right decision.

I certainly hope that my husband and I are able to instill some of that respect for the democratic process in our sons.

The art of teaching exercise classes

I've been taking a pilates/yoga class for the last 4 or 5 months. It has been a great addition to my life. I enjoy getting some physical exercise, I like the relaxation of the yoga, and it is fun to be part of a class. After all, what is it I have done best in my life? Be a student.

I'm really impressed with our instructor, Annie. She is a former dancer of indeterminate age--30+/- 10 years. She is always pleasant and friendly to the class. But what impresses me the most is her ability to communicate to the class rather complex physical moves. She never mixes up her right and left, she counts repetitions and reminds us to breathe, and is able to describe exactly what to do with our bodies in ways that I find incredible. As we are moving she calls out little hints like, "keep your shoulders down" "lengthen your neck" "tighten your arms." They always seem to be exactly on target for what I need to do. When she says "press your shoulders down" I realize that mine were NOT pressed down. I wonder how she is able to describe the physical sensations and moves so well.

Some days she changes her "lesson plan" based on what she feels the class may need. For example, a few weeks ago we were doing some balancing poses in yoga and everyone was falling over. She commented about the "anger" in the room and we switched to some mat work and relaxation. Another gray snowy day we did some extra time in relaxation since everyone seemed so tired and worn. I like that she is able to so accurately read the mood of the class or of individual students.

Getting ready for winter Part 2

Okay, remember that cute little post earlier today about the snow falling gently on the hillside? Well, screw it. Because of that snow I missed my book club tonight!!

I figured the roads wouldn't be bad once I got off of the hill and started out at 7 pm, giving myself an extra 10 minutes for the trip. Made it out of the driveway. Made it down the road. Didn't make it up the hill. Backed down Hwy 20 and turned around to drive a different route. Got stuck halfway up another hill. Called in the reinforcements (spouse and boy). Couldn't get back up the hill to our house, ended up leaving the car at a neighbors (after getting stuck in their driveway) and took the truck home. It was about 8 then, too late to make it to the 7:30 discussion.

Bummer. I hate winter.....

Getting ready for winter

It is snowing here. October 28, 2008 and we have a winter storm warning. Already there are several inches of wet, slushy snow on the ground. This morning when I walked to the end of the driveway to retrieve the newspaper it was raining, with some snow mixed in. Now it is all snow.

We got a new snowblower today, just in time for the weather. We bought our first one 13 years ago when we moved here, and it served us well all that time. The new one has a light, an electric start, and a wider path. It' great, I think. Maybe we will test it out this evening.

Winter is actually my favorite season in most respects. I don't mind the cold, because it usually is easy to get warm. I like fires in the fireplace. I like hot chocolate.

Secrets

I've been thinking a lot about secrets and privacy lately. Maybe the exposure of political campaigns brings that about, the way in which candidates' lives are scrutinized. I imagine we all have secrets, things that we have never told anyone. Wasn't there some big project recently where people could send anonymous postcards with their secrets written on them to some guy? I think he published a book of them. Are secrets a good thing? Should there be some things that we keep only to ourselves?

I guess most secrets are things we are ashamed of, or maybe afraid of. Things that we have done or felt that, we fear, if others knew would change their feelings or opinions towards us. But what one of us might find very embarrassing or shameful, others might find humorous or interesting. The problem is, we don't know unless we tell. And if we guess wrong, we are in trouble.

Then there are secrets that we might keep from some people, but not others. When I was getting ready to interview for academic jobs I was given the advice by one senior female faculty member to hide the fact that I was married. I couldn't imagine how I could interview for 1-2 days and never mention my husband. I have a friend who's mother is coming for a visit, to sort of cheer her up a little after a tough time. The mother doesn't want her other daughter to know that she is coming, she's afraid that the other daughter would be jealous. How could you keep that secret? Is it worth it?

Do we keep secrets to protect others or protect ourselves? Are we trying to keep information from someone that would be hurt by that truth, and how do we know? Doctors used to keep terminal diagnoses from patients, thinking that the patient should keep a positive attitude. But what about the need to prepare for death?

So, how do we decide what to tell others? What secrets do you have?

Anti-Intellectualism

One of the things that really bothers me in the current presidential campaign is the anti-intellectualism that is being revealed. I don't consider myself to be a supporter of academic elitism, but I do like to think that the thoughtful consideration of ideas is something we as a country values. I don't think you need to have attended Yale or Harvard to be able to think, in fact for the most part I would argue that NOT attending one of the elite educational institutions is to your advantage.

A few years ago I listened to an academic administrator talk about the limitations of some high school students who were being interviewed for a prestigious scholarship here. Specifically, she was critical of the students from rural areas and small schools who had not been exposed to a diverse student body, or had the opportunity to eat (non-European) ethnic foods, or had not visited large urban centers. She scoffed at their possible contributions to the program and the University. What could these "hicks" offer us? I would argue that they could offer a lot, provided that they are smart, thoughtful kids who are put into an environment where their experiences and ideas would be respected.

In another instance, I had a faculty member actually try to make the point that attending an Ivy League graduate school program may disadvantage new faculty, because they would not have had the opportunity to teach as students. We are to feel sorry for junior faculty who attend the most prestigious graduate programs in the country? I don't get it.

So, this has strayed a little from anti-intellectualism. My point is just that we should worry less about credentials and more about ideas. But, at the same time, we don't need to discount someone's ideas because they came from either an "elite" or "hick" school.

The Mediocre Table

Driving my 13 year old son and his best friend to play practice today they discussed the advantages of middle school over elementary school. Most of these revolved around lunchtime--in middle school you can sit where you want, they don't make you talk quietly, you can fit as many kids at a table as you want, etc.

I asked, "Who do you guys sit with at lunch?"
"Oh," they said, "we sit at the mediocre table."
"What does that mean?" I asked laughing.
"Well, there is the cool kid table, with Nicky, Mike, (and some other names). Then there is the mediocre table, that is us, Connor, Austin, (and it seems like about 10 other boys)."
"So, who's left?"
"Oh, that's the rejects table...Zach, Cody, (and a few others.) The same is true for the girls, except they have the rejected by the rejects table, too."

Remember those days? Who was cool, who was not? I guess that doesn't end. I still see it at faculty dinners and meetings. Who is going to get to sit at the "cool table"? Who gets left at the reject table?

I know in school I was probably part of the vast "mediocre" group. I was certainly too nerdy and unattractive to be at the popular table. Funny, though, those of us at the mediocre table were pretty happy with our position.

Brains

Since I got my iPod a year or so ago I've become addicted to podcasts. All the shows I wish I could listen to on NPR during the day I can download and listen to while I walk or drive. It's great! And free! So, over the last few weeks I have, by chance, listened to two different stories about brains. One was, I think on "To the Best of our Knowledge" and was about brain plasticity. The other was on "Radio Lab" and was about identity. The Radio Lab story started with describing the old experiment where the put paint on chimps' faces and had them look in a mirror. When the chimps touched their own face it was clear that the understood that the mirror image was them. Then they described an interesting experiment where they merged an individual's face with Bill Clinton's face. When they show the morphed image (50% you, 50% Clinton) to the individual, they always identified the picture as themselves. When they showed the image to someone else, who knew you, they identified the picture as Clinton. So, some part of our brain is responsible for seeing "me." Turns out if you anethestize the right side of the brain, the person sees Clinton, not themselves. So, something on the brain's right side is associated with personal identity.

What I found really fascinating, though, was a comment along the lines of "we are each only a freak accident away from being another person." The point being that people who have suffered some type of brain injury often exhibit different personality traits than before.

The other program talked about how different parts of the brain could be reprogrammed to take over functions when one part is injured. And that we can change our thoughts--we can reprogram ourselves to think more positively about something.

Put these together, could you change your personality? Can you reprogram part of your brain to always think differently?

Camping trip

I've just returned from a weekend camping trip with my 4 sisters and 3 nieces. Well, I actually haven't returned home yet, I'm still at my Dad's house, but I've returned from the "wild." And it was a wild and wonderful weekend. The 8 of us, plus another female friend, had a wonderful time. We sat around the campfire, ate, swapped stories, drank, took a long hike, ate and drank, played some games, ate some more....you get the picture. We hope to do this again next year, but even if we never do it again it was definitely worth doing. It is fun to spend time with people who know you so well. We don't spend much time together now, or at least most of us don't, but something about spending those first 10-20 years together creates an incredible bond that can't be broken. I feel sorry for people who don't get along with their siblings, it is a great loss. I'm glad that I grew up in a big family.

Out of commission

I've been out of commission for a few days, nothing major, but some medical tests that required some preparation and recovery time. Those over 50 know the kinds of things I've been through! I'm feeling better today and raring to go. Tomorrow I leave early in the morning for my trip to Indiana to go camping with my sisters and nieces. Everyone is excited. Among the 9 of us we must have just about every piece of camping equipment known to mankind. The weather forecast is wonderful--70s and sunny. I am prepared for the 600+ mile car trip--charging the ipod, have a few books on tape, car is gassed and tires filled.

But before all of that, the family is going out for dinner and to see the show Spamalot tonight. We are celebrating my younger son's 13th birthday. A true teenager now! I can hardly believe it.

My Thursday

It was a cool, gloomy, rainy day in Syracuse. I woke up to find, to the surprise of all of us in the Himes' household, that we had no hot water. Okay, I can deal with that. Heated up a few pitchers in the microwave and made myself presentable. I was on my way to Baltimore for an NIH meeting, but, more importantly, to meet my old friend Mark for dinner. I would have plenty of time to wash my hair before dinner once I got to Baltimore. Got to the Syracuse airport to find that the parking garage was under construction and I would have to park in the open lot, a long walk in the cold rain. No problem, I hadn't had a good shower anyway. We boarded on time, then heard that the latch on the fuel tank cover was bent and would not close. We would wait for maintenance, and wait, and wait. We finally took off about 45 minutes late. So, there is no direct flight from Syracuse to Baltimore, I was flying through Philadelphia. Given that I had a 45 minute layover, I was feeling a little nervous, but hey, what are the chances that the BWI flight would leave on time? Turns out, VERY GOOD! Even though there were at least 8 of us trying to make that connection, and the flight is only about 30 minutes, would they wait? NO! We landed at 1:20 (the time the other flight was to depart) and were at the gate before 1:40...just in time to see it rolling away. There was another flight at 3:25, oversold and with a standby list. I was given a seat on the 6:25 flight. I now had nearly 5 hours to kill in the Philly airport. It is under a 2 hour drive by car from Philly to Baltimore....A little late lunch, a glass of wine, discovery of a renegade free wifi site....not so bad, but I'm really wishing I had taken a good shower. Then, just to top things off, the 6:25 flight is now delayed to 7:30!!! I long ago gave up on dinner plans, my goal now is to make it to the hotel in time for the debate. We get on the plane, we taxi, we taxi, we taxi some more...our taxing took longer than the actual flight. I grabbed a cab, with the only black Muslim Republican in Baltimore, and made it just in time to write this little missive before the debate! Success at last....

David Bromberg concert

Saturday night my husband and I saw David Bromberg in concert. Now if you are one of my students, you will likely have no idea who this guy is. In fact, if you are one of my friends or a member of my family, you will likely have no idea who this guy is. I learned of his existence in college when my not yet hubby would play his records late at night. He had discovered him a few years earlier. He plays an eclectic blend of music--bluesy, folksy, jazz. If you know the song Mr. Bojangles, that was one of his hits (although not a song he wrote).

David is a BIG man--tall and bear-like. He reminds me of a colleague, Merril Silverstein, a sociologist at USC. He is an amazing guitar/mandolin/fiddle player. But imagine the incongruity of this big Russian Jew, dressed in a Western style white shirt and dress slacks, playing and singing the blues...If you close your eyes you think you are in some Western honkytonk bar. If you cover your ears, you think you are at some ethnic songfest. It was a great concert, complemented by the appearance of his wife and another member of the Angel Band as backup singers. I liked that the concert was a little unscripted, they hadn't decided on all of the songs ahead of time, and there was some good natured banter on stage.
Great evening..

A Winning Smile

I have two sons. The older one is fairly athletic, loves most sports, is pretty coordinated. The younger is not quite so inclined and has, for the most part, avoided team sports. He does play soccer, though, mostly because his older brother has coached him, nurtured him, and encouraged him in the sport. It has been fun to watch the two of them bond over that activity. Despite the coaching, my younger son developed some very bad habits in running. He tended to run hunched over, pushed off from his heels, and had a shuffling gait. I didn't know if this was just a bad habit, the result of an injury or physical problem, or just lack of strength or practice. I finally found a physical therapist who specializes in sports performance and sports injuries. On Monday we had a one hour appointment and he identified the problem as mainly a lack of muscle strength in the lower back and pelvis and weak hamstrings. He prescribed an exercise regime.

Now, I know that not much could change in just a few days, but last night my son did seem to be more comfortable running and look better on the field. Maybe it was just the confidence of the trainer, or a psychological boost of being told he will get better. But the highlight came when, late in the 4th quarter, he scored what turned out to be the winning goal for his team. This is a boy, who as his brother says, sits at the loser table at lunch. He is not part of the "jock" crowd, he's a little nerdy. All of a sudden he is the team hero. The smile that he wore for the rest of the evening was unbeatable. His teammates lifted him up in bear hugs, gave high fives, and he glowed. He walked off the field taller and more confident. It is one of those moments that you want to just bottle up and save. I think no matter what happens the rest of his sports career, he will remember this game. I was so happy to see him with that winning smile.

Out Stealing Horses

Every now and then I read a book that I just can't let go of--Out Stealing Horses by Per Petterson is such a book. I read it first about a year ago when the English translation first came out. I just re-read it with my book group. First, I just find the writing very compelling. I like the tone of the story, the style, the choice of words and images. Second, I find many parallels to my own life and my own experiences. The experience of losing a sibling, of dealing with loss, of feeling abandoned and left alone, are all ideas and themes that resonate with me. Although the main character is a man, I can relate to his desire for solitude, his reticence to reach out to others, the way in which he can't quite shake the past. I like the way he describes others knowing only a part of you, that you share only facts, not feelings, that others cannot understand you. I love the sense of Norway. I've always been fascinated with country, since I wrote a report on the country in 6th grade. Visiting there is something I long to do before I die. It is a book I just want to savor over and over. I keep finding new meanings in every sentence each time I read it.

Church Ladies

I went to a show last night, Church Basement Ladies. It was a fun little musical about the women who prepare the church dinners for funerals, weddings and the like. It was set in a small Midwestern town in 1965, so I could really relate to the story. I remember so many of those "church ladies." In fact, my mother was one of them. They were there on Sunday, with their little aprons, making coffee and cake. It was a rite of passage to be invited into the kitchen to help clean up. All the drawers and cabinets were labeled as to their contents, their was a big deep sink, the women would gossip and chatter while they cooked and washed. After my mother's funeral we had a little lunch at the church she had attended for 50 years. The church ladies were there with their macaroni salads, cold cuts, and jello. I know my mom would have appreciated everything they did. I miss that type of comraderie in my life now. There was something very comforting about those women and that kitchen. What is the modern day equivalent?

Fall Weather

The air here in Upstate NY (a place I never knew existed before) is starting to feel autumnly. There are a few leaves changing color and the evenings are cool, but the days are still sunny and warm. It is one of my favorite times of the year. I like being cool at night when I go to bed, but not yet having to wear heavy jackets during the day. I know that this nice weather will soon turn to the winter cold. I wonder if there is a place on earth where it is fall all the time, with sunny, warm days and cool evenings. That is where I would want to live.

White Privilege

In sociology courses we often teach about the concept of "white privilege." Tim Wise has written several books and essays on the topic, here is a link to his take on the current presidential election http://www.timwise.org/ But for convenience, I've just copied it below!

This is Your Nation on White Privilege
By Tim Wise
For those who still can’t grasp the concept of white privilege, or who are constantly looking for some easy-to-understand examples of it, perhaps this list will help.
White privilege is when you can get pregnant at seventeen like Bristol Palin and everyone is quick to insist that your life and that of your family is a personal matter, and that no one has a right to judge you or your parents, because “every family has challenges,” even as black and Latino families with similar “challenges” are regularly typified as irresponsible, pathological and arbiters of social decay.

White privilege is when you can call yourself a “fuckin’ redneck,” like Bristol Palin’s boyfriend does, and talk about how if anyone messes with you, you'll “kick their fuckin' ass,” and talk about how you like to “shoot shit” for fun, and still be viewed as a responsible, all-American boy (and a great son-in-law to be) rather than a thug.

White privilege is when you can attend four different colleges in six years like Sarah Palin did (one of which you basically failed out of, then returned to after making up some coursework at a community college), and no one questions your intelligence or commitment to achievement, whereas a person of color who did this would be viewed as unfit for college, and probably someone who only got in in the first place because of affirmative action.

White privilege is when you can claim that being mayor of a town smaller than most medium-sized colleges, and then Governor of a state with about the same number of people as the lower fifth of the island of Manhattan, makes you ready to potentially be president, and people don’t all piss on themselves with laughter, while being a black U.S. Senator, two-term state Senator, and constitutional law scholar, means you’re “untested.”


White privilege is being able to say that you support the words “under God” in the pledge of allegiance because “if it was good enough for the founding fathers, it’s good enough for me,” and not be immediately disqualified from holding office--since, after all, the pledge was written in the late 1800s and the “under God” part wasn’t added until the 1950s--while believing that reading accused criminals and terrorists their rights (because, ya know, the Constitution, which you used to teach at a prestigious law school requires it), is a dangerous and silly idea only supported by mushy liberals.


White privilege is being able to be a gun enthusiast and not make people immediately scared of you.


White privilege is being able to have a husband who was a member of an extremist political party that wants your state to secede from the Union, and whose motto was “Alaska first,” and no one questions your patriotism or that of your family, while if you're black and your spouse merely fails to come to a 9/11 memorial so she can be home with her kids on the first day of school, people immediately think she’s being disrespectful.


White privilege is being able to make fun of community organizers and the work they do--like, among other things, fight for the right of women to vote, or for civil rights, or the 8-hour workday, or an end to child labor--and people think you’re being pithy and tough, but if you merely question the experience of a small town mayor and 18-month governor with no foreign policy expertise beyond a class she took in college--you’re somehow being mean, or even sexist.

White privilege is being able to convince white women who don’t even agree with you on any substantive issue to vote for you and your running mate anyway, because all of a sudden your presence on the ticket has inspired confidence in these same white women, and made them give your party a “second look.”


White privilege is being able to fire people who didn’t support your political campaigns and not be accused of abusing your power or being a typical politician who engages in favoritism, while being black and merely knowing some folks from the old-line political machines in Chicago means you must be corrupt.


White privilege is being able to attend churches over the years whose pastors say that people who voted for John Kerry or merely criticize George W. Bush are going to hell, and that the U.S. is an explicitly Christian nation and the job of Christians is to bring Christian theological principles into government, and who bring in speakers who say the conflict in the Middle East is God’s punishment on Jews for rejecting Jesus, and everyone can still think you’re just a good church-going Christian, but if you’re black and friends with a black pastor who has noted (as have Colin Powell and the U.S. Department of Defense) that terrorist attacks are often the result of U.S. foreign policy and who talks about the history of racism and its effect on black people, you’re an extremist who probably hates America.


White privilege is not knowing what the Bush Doctrine is when asked by a reporter, and then people get angry at the reporter for asking you such a “trick question,” while being black and merely refusing to give one-word answers to the queries of Bill O’Reilly means you’re dodging the question, or trying to seem overly intellectual and nuanced.


White privilege is being able to claim your experience as a POW has anything at all to do with your fitness for president, while being black and experiencing racism is, as Sarah Palin has referred to it a “light” burden.


And finally, white privilege is the only thing that could possibly allow someone to become president when he has voted with George W. Bush 90 percent of the time, even as unemployment is skyrocketing, people are losing their homes, inflation is rising, and the U.S. is increasingly isolated from world opinion, just because white voters aren’t sure about that whole “change” thing. Ya know, it’s just too vague and ill-defined, unlike, say, four more years of the same, which is very concrete and certain…


White privilege is, in short, the problem.

Clothes

I was just chatting with a journalism graduate student. She is writing articles this semester on fashion and wanted to talk about a sociological perspective on fashion. Clearly outside my area of expertise, but what the heck, I can talk about "presentation of self" and "impression management" with the best of them.
I have often been struck with the changing appearance of college students. I see my first year advisees on the weekend before classes start, they have been here about 2 days. They still look pretty freshly scrubbed and well dressed. By Thanksgiving, they are different people. For the most part, their attention to personal appearances has declined. They are more pierced, more colored, more scruffy. The guys have probably not had a haircut since they arrived. But, by senior year, they start to clean up a little bit again. Many now have internships or are interviewing for jobs. They are starting to think about a "grown up" life, and starting to look the part. Those carefree college days are coming to an end....

Smoking

How can anyone still smoke? I've been working on a book chapter about longevity and health. One of the topics I cover is the prospect for future gains in life expectancy in the US and the factors that are retarding those gains. Smoking and obesity are at the top of the list. The health consequences of smoking are SO CLEAR. I can't imagine that we still allow tobacco to be produced in this country. My husband smokes cigars. They smell. The house smells. The car smells. He smells. That is just the aesthetic part. I shudder to think what it is doing to the lungs of my kids. For the most part he keeps it outside, but the weather is turning cooler and the windows will be closing. I don't understand the attraction....or addiction (?)

What Dads do

I've spent a few days alone with the boys while my husband has been visiting his parents. I enjoy the time alone, and this time even the boys left for awhile and I had the WHOLE HOUSE to MYSELF! That does not happen often. The kids and I have had some fun, gotten some work done, spent some time together. The peace and quiet is nice, but we are all ready for Dad to come home. We had no power today, thank you Ike, and I know if Dad had been here it would have been turned into an adventure. Instead, it was just boring. Mom is good for lots of things, but if you really want to have a good time, you need Dad. So, welcome home Dad. We are ready for some excitement.

Parallel thinking

I tend to think in pretty linear way, like to put things in order, line them up. The upside of that way of viewing problems is that you can often spot parallels or intersections--you can see where an order of events in one setting is similar to that in another. Or you can see where two lines of thinking intersect, where their common point is The downside, I would say, is that it is harder to see the branches, the points that move off the line in a curve. I think both ways of thinking lead to creative solutions. In one case, the linear case, you can take information from one problem and apply to another. In the branching case, you can move off the line in a new direction which may, or may not, intersect with another line.

My survival strategy

My survival strategy in life is to learn the rules, do things the “right” way, blend in, etc. I tend to stand on the fringes more, although once I feel comfortable I can be very social and fun. I put a lot of stock in being seen as competent and capable. I put a high value on efficiency and independence. I see those qualities as ones that inspire trust and lead to responsibility, which I like having. I am willing to rebel, and believe that a slight disdain or distrust for authority is healthy, and I’m not easily intimidated, but overall I’m a “by the book” type of person. With things I know how to do, I am fast and efficient, in new situations or circumstances, I want to go slowly.

Deadlines

I work best under pressure, but it has to be "real" pressure, not self-imposed. I wish I was better at pacing my work, but I just never seem able to finish something early. If anything, I stretch deadlines by a few days if possible. I've always admired people who are able to clean off their desk a few days early. I am just meeting one deadline and have one left to meet this month. Then, time for a vacation.

Being the grownup

Who is the grownup when you get old? That is the question I'd liked answered. I find as I age that I take on more the role of "wise elder" to younger colleagues, but who do I get to have as an advisor? I'm still young enough that there are people older than me, but at some point I'll reach the end (front?) of the line, right? My younger siblings turn to me for advice and counsel, to some extent I turn to my older sisters, but who does the oldest get to have as a mother stand-in?

Glory vs. A Pencil Sharpener

My oldest son is a senior in high school. His favorite subjects are math and physics, and he really gets along well with his physics teacher. On the first day of school she gave out a pencil sharpener to the one student (a girl) who had brought in all of her supplies (graph paper, colored pencils, etc.). My son operates on a "just in time" basis, if you need colored pencils tomorrow, buy them tonight, so he wasn't even in the running for the "supply award." But yesterday they started to work on some graphing problems and the teacher put up a graph on the board of two objects and the distance they traveled relative to time. The discussion was which object, A or B, had greater velocity. There was general discussion, and most people, including the teacher, thought the answer was A. A glance at the key, however, showed that the velocities were equal. After a little hemming and hawing, the teacher didn't have a good explanation for that result. Doug raised his hand and pointed out that one object started at a different time than the other, that must be the key, and if you drew a line from that point it would be parallel to the other (this all made a LOT more sense with the graph in front of me!).
The teacher exclaimed, "Great answer, you are exactly right!"
My son replied, "Can I get a pencil sharpener, too?"
"No."
"How about a pencil, or a piece of candy?"
"No, you only get the glory."

"Glory, that is worthless, I would rather have the pencil sharpener!"

What would the world be like if people really preferred pencil sharpeners over glory?

Last First Day

Today was my older son's Last First Day of School. Thirteen years ago he got on the big yellow bus for the first time. I cried. Today he and his younger brother hopped in the car and pulled out of the driveway. I didn't cry. He is ready, I am ready, it is time for him to start out on his own life. When you send a kid to kindergarten you worry if the teacher will understand them, see their uniqueness, value their differentness. When you send a kid to his last year of high school you worry if they will understand others, see the unique qualities of their teachers, and value their experience. It really is a shift away from seeing your child as the center of the world to hoping that they realize that they are not.

The Family (torture) Picnic

Every few months I put my foot down and require that we all go on a "family picnic." This usually requires a time committment of about 4-5 hours, that includes the commute. We pack a light lunch, drive to a park, eat, walk for an hour or so, and drive home. You'd think I was taking the boys to Gitmo. They whine, they complain, they sulk, but they go. And somewhere about halfway to the park they start to turn. The whines become more teasing, the sulking becomes more of an act. After the meal they trudge dutifully down a path, then spot a deer or chipmunk, or hear a woodpecker and search the trees. Gradually they let down their guard and seem to enjoy themselves. Of course all the way home I hear again about the torture I've inflicted (and usually they bring up any other recent events to bolster their argument that my goal in life is to make them miserable.) But the evenings after these trips are always a little more friendly and calm. The extra exercise and fresh air has done everyone good, including me.

The organization of care

So, may family is embarking upon a new adventure--braces. I never had them, my husband never had them, our older son never had them, but Evan got his put on today. I am fascinated with the orthodonist's office. They clearly know their clientele--kids ages 12-16. The whole office is organized around kids--their interests, their tastes, their size. But the staff also treats them as responsible, smart, and capable. The directions are given to the kids, the supplies are kept in a closet and kids are expected to take what they need, the kids are allowed to make decisions about their care. The office is efficiency to the max, everything is orderly and ordered. I just find it an interesting set-up.

On a whole different note, in the waiting room was a mom with two young kids, waiting while an older daughter was cared for. The younger boy, about 3 or so, was getting bored and antsy. Finally the mom said, "pick out a book and I'll read you a story." The boy brought over a few books and the mom said, "would you like to sit in my lap?" The boy's face lit up as if this was the biggest wish he could ever have. He climbed up into his mom's lap and snuggled in for a story. What an incredible power we have when we allow such physical contact.

The Great NY State Fair

Went to the fair tonight. I've gone for the last 4 or 5 years, usually just my younger son and I go, but this year hubby tagged along. We are pretty low key fairgoers. We go to see the butter sculpture and DEC fish tanks, we go on the giant ferris wheel (well, Craig doesn't go on that one), have a corn dog, play some midway games, and then head home. In and out in about 3 hours. It is just enough to get a feel for the place, but not long enough to get weirded out--which is easy to do there.

Working on Sunday

I am always more productive when I work on Sundays. Why? I used to think it was the lack of distractions, and that is certainly part of the answer, but I think it has more to do with a mindset: "I'm here to work." I guess if I come in to work on a Sunday I feel obligated to make it worthwhile. I also feel like any work I do get done is a "bonus," work I hadn't planned on finishing. When I come to work on Sunday, I generally have a specific task that I want to accomplish as well, so I am focused on just one thing, not a million little tasks. Why doesn't that happen on a regular workday? Got me, but I've decided I'm better off to take a day off during the week and come in on Sunday than to work a straight week. Works for me.

Water

What is it about moving water that is so mesmerizing and calming? Yesterday I took Evan and his friend Sam to the Ithaca Sciencenter. Outdoors they have a small waterfall and watertable with sand and blocks. I could have sat for hours playing in the water. Listening to the falls was relaxing, but pushing the sand through the water, building and rebuilding dams and shorelines, that was really relaxing. Just the feel of the water over my fingers and the flow of the sand was calming. Just the sort of time I needed.

Foreign Words and Sad Places

In high school I studied Spanish for 5-6 years and spent a month one summer in Mexico. In college I studied Russian and spent a semester in Moscow. I was never that proficient at either one, although I actually have a bachelor’s degree in Russian (it got me an interview with the National Security Agency, too!) Unfortunately I never studied German, nor did Craig, so when we were living in Germany on sabbatical his French and my Russian and Spanish were almost useless. Of course, there was the driver who met us at the airport who did not speak English, but had learned Russian in school (we were in the former East Germany part of Germany) so we managed to communicate that way—both in our rusty Russian. But what I found amazing was that my brain seemed to have some part dedicated to “foreign languages” that was activated while we were there. So in a store I was just as likely to come up with a Spanish or Russian word as I was a German word. It’s like I knew I need something other than English, but all those “foreign” words were just lumped together in one place in my brain.

I guess that is a little bit like how I’m feeling now. I’m leaving a group that I've been a part of for about a year, but that seems to have just triggered a whole host of other “sad” places in my mind. Add to that the acknowledgement that tomorrow would have been my sister’s birthday, and I find that I am back grieving about losses—losing my mom, losing my sister, losing what I had hoped for in this group, and losing the people in the group that I cared about on whatever level. It’s funny that last night I found I really wanted to talk to my Mom, even though I would have never in her lifetime gone to her with those kinds of feelings, which then also makes me sad. So, I end up just feeling sad in general, which maybe is not a bad thing, just a “thing”.

I think it has always been hard for me to leave things. When I would be at summer camps I was never really homesick, but I would be heartbroken at the end when I had to go home. Not because I dreaded something back home, but because I felt I was losing something I had gotten there. Maybe because for that week or whatever I had felt a sense of “belonging.” You know how camps really push that sense of community and fellowship, so even if it is hokey it was something to be a part of. Even though I didn’t get the sense of belonging I was looking for from this particular group, it was still something. And that is hard to give up.

Friendly People

What makes some people friendly and talkative? Today I went for a routine mammogram. In the waiting room an older woman commented, "you look so calm! How do you manage?" I pointed out that I was just there for a screening, so I wasn't expecting any bad news. She, on the other hand, is a 25 year breast cancer survivor. We chatted briefly, were both called in for x-rays, and then met again while we waited to hear that our films were readable. I swear we did not spend more than 5 minutes together, but in that time I learned:
she is a breast cancer survivor
she only has sons, the youngest is 50
her daughter in law won't let her see her two adopted grandkids (one of whom turned 22 yesterday) but she still sends them cards, presents, and birthday checks (well, they used to send bonds, but now they send checks)
her 90 year old friend had breast cancer 30 years ago and now has cancer in her spine. She is going through chemo and worried about losing her hair.
she is a perfectionist.
she hurt her hand a week ago making dinner
she is Catholic

I don't know if I would ever talk like that to a stranger. Why? I was happy to listen, to distract her a little bit (she was really nervous), and to wish her well. But, would I want to share all of that with a complete stranger? Just makes me wonder.

New academic year

Well, my attempt at blogging wasn't too successful last year, but I'm determined to try again. I'm feeling a little lost as August ends. Usually I would be preparing for a new semester, looking over my syllabus, getting my opening day lecture ready, and puzzling over my class list.

The class list is always one of the most interesting things at the beginning of the semester. I try to figure out pronunciations, look at the distribution of the majors (why is someone from biomechanical engineering in here?), and see if there are any familiar names. I really enjoy havign a student for more than one class. I like getting to know them.

This year none of that is happening. Instead, I'm sitting in my windowless office trying to write a grant proposal and wondering what a whole year on leave will feel like. I think I will like it, which also scares me...what if I like it too much? what if I have no ambition anymore?

I'm trying to keep busy, though. I have a grant to write, a couple of book chapters, and I'll be volunteering one day a week in a first grade classroom. That should be fun.