Thanksgiving Dinner

Making Thanksgiving dinner is one of those events where more goes into the planning than the actual execution. Pies are best made the day before when the oven is free. Not much else can be made ahead of time, so there is a lot of waiting for the time to be right to cook. The turkey is stuffed and put in the oven early, then nothing. You can get the good dishes out and set the table. You can make lists of things to be done...at some point the potatoes are peeled and put on to boil, same for the sweet potatoes. A relish tray can be arranged.....then, all at once, the gravy has to be made the turkey taken out of the oven, the sweet potatoes put in the oven, the potatoes mashed, the turkey emptied of stuffing, carve the turkey, steam the asparagus....all in the last 15 minutes before everyone sits down. The whole morning is spent in anticipation, but there is nothing that can be done but wait.

Sometimes my class feels the same way. We start a project or topic, we fiddle around, then, all at once, papers are due, things need to be graded, exams are taken, papers are read, grades are handed in and the semester is done. All of the anticipation, all of the waiting, knowing that the onslaught will be coming and nothing can be done.

Then, like Thanksgiving dinner, it is all over, cleaned up, put away, washed and dried. The end.

Precious, the movie

I've done some book reviews, but I don't think I've done many movie reviews on this blog. Here's one. Tonight I went to see the movie "Precious." I had read a lot of the reviews and hype, and knew the basic storyline, but nothing prepared me for how intense the movie would be. It is one thing to hear that a movie deals with incest, physical and emotional abuse, illiteracy, poverty, and teen pregnancy. It is quite another to watch it so graphically and realistically displayed.

I wondered while watching it if I could ever show it in class. In some ways it is a great movie for an intro to sociology class. It makes very real the struggles faced by those in poverty and those who suffer from neglect and abuse. But it is pretty graphic, both in language and in visual scenes. I worry that it would upset some students, both those for whom the story is all too real, and those for whom the story is unlike anything they could imagine. I wonder if the impact of the story would overtake the underlying sociological point I would want to make.

There is also controversy about the film's depiction of African American life. Some feel that it perpetuates an image of poverty and abuse. Others feel that it shows a story that needs to be heard. I can see both sides of that argument. I guess part of the problem is that there are so few images of African American life to use as a frame of reference, so many other stories that we could use to balance against this one. I know when we were in Europe we were always correcting stereotypes based on movies, and they were innocuous, like did all parents drive their kids to school. Imagine having your whole life interpreted as seen in movies.

So, see the movie.

Ira Glass, my hero

I'm writing this for my niece Martha, who is the only person I know who regularly reads anything here, and the only person I know (although there are millions) who listens to This American Life. Tonight I had the chance to listen to my hero, Ira Glass, host of TAL. He is every bit as charming, thoughtful, funny, and poetic in person as on the radio. Like most folks on the lecture circuit his talk is a well-honed piece. He integrates pieces from the show (and pieces that didn't make the show) with music, insights, and jokes. It is, surprisingly, just like the show!

Two things that I walked away with. First, the whole structure of storytelling. He pointed out the need for action, for building suspense, for moving the story forward. He said that when he interviews people he often asks them to back up, to tell things in order, asking "what happened next?" As he said a story is like a train, moving out of the station, gathering momentum, you want to know where it is going. You can't stop listening. Second, the meaning of storytelling. How stories are a way to see into the lives of others, to share their experiences. He noted how rare it is for any one of us to have someone in a day who really listens to our story, who cares about our lives. And, how we can listen to the stories of others. Oh, and a third thing, I realized that while I know the basic outline of the story of the Arabian Nights, I don't really know as much as I now would like to know.

A wonderful night.

"At Risk"

I was trained as a demographer, someone who studies aggregate population trends. One of the key points in demographic methods is understanding rates--rates of change, prevalence rates, incidence rates....We spend a lot of time talking about who in the population is "at risk" of experiencing some event. So, for instance, only those who are currently married are at risk of divorce or widowhood. Only those who are currently unmarried are at risk of marriaged. We are all at risk of dying (one of the reasons I decided to study mortality was that it was so straightforward--easy to measure.) Who is at risk of dropping out of high school? High school students. You get the point.

But the term "at risk" can be more tricky. Are the only people at risk of being happy those who are currently unhappy? Are the only people at risk of being helped those who are currently living with unmet needs? We are all at risk of some events in life over which we have virtually no control...someone else's death, someone else's birth, someone else's marriage. Can we control the risks to which we are exposed? To some extent. We can avoid dangerous people, places, and things. Can we also put ourselves in the position to experience positive events? Not by avoiding people, places and things, but by seeking them out?

Saying "No"

I want to make it clear at the beginning that I do believe that in cases of sexual conduct, if a man or woman, boy or girl, says "no" then that means no, no matter what...

But, what about the more everyday "no." When does a no mean no and when does it mean something else? Or when should we say no and really mean it and when should we say yes? In raising kids you soon learn that when they say "no" that isn't always what they mean. Your job as parent is to figure out when to push and when to pull back. I'm sure there are times when I've let my kids quit and say no, when I should have pushed them on. I'm sure there are times when I've pushed my kids and should have let them quit. It is a tough call. Some kids approach almost any new situation with the word "no." I think they are often afraid, afraid they will fail, afraid they will be embarrassed. It is much safer to not even try. Figuring out when that is happening can be hard. When is something really too hard, or too unagreeable?

Saying 'no' can be very powerful and a valuable lesson to learn. Toddlers practice the power of that word, to the frustration of their parents. But along the way we may forget how to say "no." I vowed not to accept another request to write a book chapter, but no sooner had I said "never again" than I said "yes." I should have said no.

Take your kid to work

My grandmother was the secretary for the local machinist union when I was growing up. She worked part time at the union hall, collecting dues, mailing out information, doing other clerical and bookkeeping tasks. It was a real treat as a child to go with her to work for the day. While we were there we stuffed envelopes, used the adding machine, and got free bottles of Coke from the vending machine. The union hall was in the county seat, the big town of Valparaiso, Indiana, and we would walk around the block a few times--but didn't cross the street. For lunch we would go to the lunch counter at Woolworth's and have grilled cheese sandwiches.

I don't think I ever went to my father's office. I do remember a few times being shown a place where he worked, and maybe once or twice going to pick him up or take him a dinner when he worked overtime at his "moonlighting" job. What he did and where he did was a great mystery to me.

My boys have come to my office since they were infants. Doug spent many baby hours in my office, Evan somewhat fewer, but he was there, too. As they became toddlers they would come for a few hours now and then. I still have in my office the wooden train set that I kept there for their entertainment. When they got to be school age they would sometimes come to a class. They might bring a book or a Gameboy, but my younger son loved to "help." He would hand out papers, collect assignments and advance my PowerPoint slides He would even answer questions and make comments. He loved being seen as the "smart kid." Of course, that attitude faded with age and it is no longer "cool" to come to my classes.

I think it is good for kids to see where their parents work, and for the people at work to see that you have kids. I am a strong advocate for breaking down the artificial barriers of work and home. I think both places need to acknowledge the importance of the other. And one way to advance that respect is to let each be aware of the other. Being a mother is part of who I am, and being a professor is part of who I am. I don't want to pretend in either arena that the other does not exist.

Halloween

We had 0 trick or treaters at our house Saturday night, not a single one. Each year we seem to have fewer and fewer children at the door. I think we maxed out at about 20 some years ago. We do live in a rural area, with no sidewalks and fairly widely spaced homes with long driveways, and there aren't many kids in our immediate vicinity. All in all, however, the idea of Halloween night as a time of general mischief and kids running wild seems to have faded. When I was a child, back in the dark ages, we would roam the streets for hours. My neighborhood was not that much different from the one I live in now, the big difference was the number of kids. We traveled in packs, collecting candy and causing trouble. We would soap car windows (or sometimes WAX them). We scared the younger kids by jumping out of bushes and ditches. We wandered aimlessly.

Costumes were secondary to our pursuits. We went simply--as ghosts, hobos, skiers, or witches. A few odd pieces of clothing, maybe some make-up or a wig, and we were set. I don't think I ever owned a store bought costume. When my kids entered Halloween age I was overwhelmed by the whole costume scene. I hated making them or buying them. I hated dressing the kids up. I hated taking them trick or treating. Instead of Halloween being a kid holiday, it became a parental chore. I lost my enthusiasm. Maybe that's why we don't get many trick or treaters, they can tell this is a house inhabited by Halloween naysayers.

Community Meals

This morning I went to the Lions Club Pancake Breakfast at the fire hall. This community meal is always held on the Sunday before election day in the fall. It is usually packed with people and all of the local candidates come out to pour coffee and press the flesh. Sitting there enjoying my pancakes, with real maple syrup, I thought about the evolution of the community meal. They are held everywhere. The menus differ, the venues differ, but do the purposes differ? They are a combination of fundraiser and community building and fellowship. They are sponsored by fire departments, schools, civic organizations and churches. The menus vary--pancake breakfasts, meatloaf, spaghetti, ham loaf, fish frys, and chicken barbeque are all popular around here. In Central PA there were chicken and waffle dinners. I'm sure across the country the local cuisine is featured--clambakes, crab boils, etc.

Growing up our local community club had a "smorgasboard" dinner, playing off our Swedish heritage. Local women would make their special dish and the spread was quite impressive, especially the pies. Hundreds would come, and just like the Lions, the smorgasboard was always the Sunday before Election day in the fall. Kids would help clear the tables and pour drinks, women would work in the kitchen. I don't know what the men did--maybe set up tables beforehand. The dinner gradually faded away until it was only a few women making several dishes at the clubhouse and serving everyone. With the deaths of my grandmother and mother, the smorgasboard died as well.

I'm curious about these events now. How does sharing a meal become a central part of a community? Food has always been a way to create family and community, think back to the Passover meal, Thanksgiving, etc. Sharing food is a way of building trust, showing kindness, and inclusion.

Maybe I should have a new research agenda....