Isolation

There was a very sad story in our local news today. The report was of a young single mother found dead in her apartment along with her 2 month old child. The mother died of natural causes, as did, apparently, the infant. The two had last been seen a few weeks ago at a family gathering. The mother was on maternity leave, so no employer reported her absence. She didn't respond to family calls, but individual family members didn't connect their multiple missed attempts to contact her.

So, it makes me think, who would notice if I went missing? Of course, in my situation, many people would notice. But, for how many people is an absence of a week or two simply not something worth noting? In the summer or winter we often hear public health officials asking us to check on elderly neighbors or those living alone. In times of natural disasters or extreme weather we might be more conscious of the activities of our friends, family and neighbors. But, in the spring? How long could we overlook the absence of a neighbor? the lack of contact with a family member? when would an absence be cause of concern?

Graduation

I've just finished a full weekend of graduation activities. We start on Friday evening with the doctoral hooding ceremony. Those receiving PhDs receive their academic hoods from their advisors. I didn't have any student finishing this year, but attended as associate dean. It is an exciting evening for students who have worked long to finish their degrees. There is an obligatory explanation of the origins of the gown and hood, complete with the reason for the small pouch at the end of the hood (to hold a favorite beverage). The hooding ceremony is followed by a reception with good food and a full bar!

Saturday morning starts with the Arts and Sciences undergraduate convocation. This is held in the Dome and every student has their name read while they walk across the stage and have a handshake with the Dean. It takes a long time to read hundreds of names...I admire the readers who have to handle difficult pronunciations on the fly. Students fill out a card with their name and a phonetic guide. Some with names like "Russell Jones" provide detailed guides, while others with names like "Shanaquina Abaramdamblartokov" provide little direction. The readers have about 1 second to make a decision and then have to plow forward best they can.

This is followed by a reception for family back in the academic buildings. These are crowded noisy affairs when, as faculty, we try to remember the names of students who introduce us to their parents. Many faces look familiar, but names often are long gone. Still, there is usually a student who I really remember and whose family I want to meet. As a parent I've become increasingly aware of the importance of recognizing parents and telling them, personally, how much I enjoyed their child.

Saturday afternoon is our convocation for Masters students. I don't usually attend this event, but this year, as associate dean I was the master of ceremonies. A somewhat more difficult job given that I've never attended myself! These students are older, often from other countries. The biggest event is picture taking. They want their picture taken with everyone and everywhere. If you have a robe on, you get a picture. It is a fun and spirited group.

Finally, Sunday morning is the grand commencment in the Dome. It takes over an hour to seat all of the students. This year I was a marshall, which meant I was responsible for keeping the lines moving, walking young ladies to the bathrooms, and maintaining decorum. The decorum part is hard as the beachballs and balloons start to emerge. I know students are excited, but interupting their own student speaker seemed a little crass.

I didn't attend my college or graduate school graduations. It seemed a little anti-climatic. In both cases I finished in the summer and would have had to come back in May for the ceremonies. By then I was working and far away from college both physically and emotionally. I look back and don't feel that I missed much. Even though I am big on ceremony and ritual, I don't feel slighted. I wonder about the kids who were in the Dome today, what will they remember of this event, what message will they take away with them?

Grades are in

I just submitted my grades for this semester. Over time I've gotten over the guilt associated with a student who misses a higher grade by a fraction of a point. I grade each item as it comes along during the year and tally the results at the end. If I were to go back and examine each student's work again it would be difficult to be fair, I think.

As a student I used to calculate where I stood in a class before finals week. If I knew that basically no matter what I did I would still receive a B in a class, for instance, I tended to focus my studying on other classes where there was a chance of getting a better grade. There were a few times when I was surprised, in both directions, getting a better or worse grade than expected.

I don't know when I'll be teaching the population issues class again. I enjoy it and have fun teaching it. I'd like to develop a graduate level course on the same topic, perhaps geared towards the International Relations students. How can you understand current global issues if you don't understand the demographic forces at work?

Right Speech

I am not a Buddhist. I've dabbled in meditation, try to practice mindfulness, and believe in our spiritual connections to the natural world. Lately, I've been reading and thinking a lot about Alzheimer's Disease. My mother in law has some type of dementia as does a good friend. Interacting with people with AD requires that you develop a different perspective on life, meaning, and personhood. Well, I shouldn't say it "requires" that new perspective, in me it has awakened a new way of thinking.

I ran across a great article about spirituality and dementia the other day. It was written 10 years ago, but I had never seen it.

www.crosscurrents.org/webb.htm

In the article there is a discussion about the Buddhist principle of "right speech." As usually described, right speech means not lying, not being mean in your words. But, in a broader sense, it is about thinking how your words will affect another. Will they cause harm? Will they be beneficial? We are taught from a young age to tell the truth. In dealing with someone with Alzheimers, however, truth is a funny concept. If a person cannot comprehend their location in time, is it a truth to correct them when they think you are their sister instead of their daughter? That is a truth to you, but not to them. It has no meaning to them. Webb argues, in her article, that as caregivers we need to enter into the reality of the AD patient. Think about what is true for them at that moment.

Someone with AD needs to be treated with compassion, but not pity. There are still faculties that they retain, particularly the ability to feel, to have emotions. They may express those in ways that seem foreign to us, that seem out of place or out of context. But, if we try to see where they are, we might gain insight into what they need or are offering to us.

Mindfulness is another Buddhist concept, the ability to be totally in the present, open to the experiences and feelings of the moment. We don't hang on to them, we don't try to predict what will come next, we experience each moment as its own. Right speech is a way to be mindful, to think about the moment, the present. If our words are kind and compassionate, they will be "right." Not a bad idea to put into practice in all of our relationships.

A Calling

I consider myself a somewhat spiritual, although not particularly religious, person. What does that mean? I guess for me it means I'm interested in the ideas of what my place is in the world or universe. Do I have a purpose? How or why am I different from other people? What is my relationship to others and to the natural world? In contrast, I think of religion as adopting a particular tenet of faith and following a lifestyle based on that faith. One of the things I like about not having a particular religious identity is that I can adopt rituals and practices that feel good to me, regardless of their origins.

Over the last few years I've found myself increasingly drawn to ideas about stories, memory, and how people talk about their lives. I find that I am having those thoughts with increasing regularity. I've begun to think of it is my "still, small voice," and that maybe there is something I should do about it. I believe that having a listener makes a difference and that sharing life stories is important for both of the teller and the listener. I've wonder if maybe this is something I should do, maybe even need to do...a calling, perhaps. I wouldn't say that I usually believe in such things, but there is something that is pulling me.

In that way, I feel that there is a spiritual force that is directing me. It will be interesting to see where it leads.