Missing Mary

When is the right age to start feeling nostalgic? I used to laugh when my sons, at ages 8 and 12, would reminisce about their “childhoods,” but at 54 can I legitimately feel nostalgic for mine?

I was at a Noel Paul Stookey/Peter Yarrow concert a few days ago and spent most of the evening with tears on my cheeks. Obviously, you can't get past the fact that one member of their group is missing and while she was lovingly acknowledged throughout, Mary's absence was felt in every song. I was never a big Mary fan, she always seemed just a little too much larger than life for me. The duet of Noel Paul and Peter is wonderful and not to be missed, but hearing the two of them without her was a bit like listening to a stereo song in mono.

They started the concert with an analogy of folk music as a train. They got on while the Weavers, Pete Seeger and others were singing their songs, and have been riding the train for 50 years. Others have gotten on behind them and the train will go on once they have gotten off. (Okay, they said it much more poetically and powerfully, but I liked the imagery of being a passenger on the journey of life.) The whole evening had a sense of a farewell tour. Peter is looking frail, and to watch Paul, who towers over him, tenderly guide him on and off stage with an arm around his shoulders was touching. Peter, to his credit, plays the part of the aging Jewish radical to the hilt—stumbling, bumbling, and spouting a Yiddish phrase here and there.

Seeing them together is partly like watching an old married couple, but partly like watching two men who know firsthand how easily life can slip away. They are holding on and letting go at the same time. Every song seemed to take on a new meaning with mortality in the background, even one of my favorite children's songs, "The Garden Song”: "We are made of dreams and bones, Need a place to call my own, ‘Cause the time is close at hand.” Their songs had an intensity that night that can only come from age and experience, from feeling deep in your soul that things can be better but that you may not be there to see it happen.

I'd seen the trio in concert several times over the years in different venues but my folk music grounding goes back to my childhood. Growing up my dad would tune in a program called "The Midnight Special" on Saturday nights and turn the radio up so we could listen in our bedrooms as we went to sleep. I would hear Pete Seeger, the Kingston Trio, Arlo Guthrie, PP&M and Steve Goodman singing in my dreams. I rode the City of New Orleans, had Thanksgiving Dinner, and searched for unicorns while I slept. The appeal to me was strong--the messages were of hope and peace, the harmonies perfect, the melodies accessible. And after all, it is a lot easier to sing folk songs around a Girl Scout campfire than operatic arias. Hearing those songs live brought back my own memories of growing up, of singing their songs, of falling in love.

As I sat in the audience I was thinking about growing up in the Midwest, the way in which that "cultural" experience has shaped my life. I think there is a lot to be said for a Midwestern upbringing, actually. Midwesterners have a kind of sensibility and calm that I like in my life. We see problems, we fix them, we move on. There is not a lot of handwringing needed or tolerated. But the culture of the Midwest was not fertile ground for music. I guess we had Motown and square dances, but neither of those influences filtered much into my section of rural Indiana. By then we had radios and the music of the 60s; the Beatles and protest songs filled my life. It was the season of change and possibility.

I will now boldly and publicly admit to my one of my personal failings. Despite my PhD in sociology, I did not understand the term “sociological imagination” until years after I completed graduate study. How is that possible? Well, when I started graduate school my intention was to become a demographer. I had never had a sociology course and had no interest in the field. In fact, I sought out one of the few graduate programs specifically offering a PhD in demography. But, along the way, an advisor suggested a dual PhD in sociology as a way to increase my employment options and it seemed like a good idea. Perhaps everyone assumed that I already knew something about sociology or maybe I missed the day in our social theory class where C. Wright Mills was discussed (more likely I was there but inattentive—I did get a C in that class…). In any case, I was clueless about sociological imagination and the intersection of history and biography even when they were right under my nose.

One of the watershed moments of my graduate study was reading Norm Ryder’s article titled, "The Cohort as a Concept in the Study of Social Change." He argues that social change is driven by demographic change, the constant addition of new members and deletion of old ones. He goes on to talk about how each cohort is shaped by the historical influences they experience and how the effects of particular historical events will differ based on the age at which a cohort experiences them. Living through the 1960s as a young girl was a much different experience than that of Peter, Paul, and Mary who were 20 years my senior. Songs that to me were pretty and powerful, were passionate calls to action for them. Events that were troubling, but distant from my everyday life, intimately shaped their lives and careers for 50 years.

I doubt I will see Peter and Paul perform live again, but I’m glad I saw them again without Mary. I’m glad I was able to see them miss her, but to continue to sing with love, passion, and humor. Curious, I went back to Ryder’s article today and was stunned to read the first line of the abstract, “Society persists despite the mortality of its individual members...” Sounds a bit like a train ride to me.

Writing life stories

Over the past few years I've become fascinated with the idea of writing life stories. Not so much that I want to write my own, although I suppose this blog is a type of life story writing, more that I have become interested in the stories of others. I credit three factors with leading me down this path.

First, after my mother's death, my dad starting sending out a daily email to his children and grandchildren. Often he relates mundane details about his day, what he ate, where he went. But, often, he includes some personal observations on current issues or a reminiscence of a past event. He has told about learning to drive, favorite foods, first jobs, and meeting my mom. I save all of these notes, I'm not sure why, and I'm a little concerned if for some reason an email doesn't appear before I go to bed.

Second, I have a few professional colleagues who work in the area of memoir writing, aging and memory, and Alzheimers Disease. What I've learned from them is that memory is only one facety of our personality and that the loss of memory does not have to mean the loss of meaning in life. I have listened to their presenations on creative writing with AD patients, with the role of life review in later life, and the power of preserving memories.

Third, last year I began a friendship with a retired colleague who is suffering memory loss. We meet weekly for lunch and last summer began writing his life story. We no longer actively write together, but we do share the stories and memories that those writings preserved. During the writing I was impressed with how important this time became for him, how seriously he took the endeavor, and how much it helped his wife.

So, I was pleased this morning to hear a story on NPR about writing with dying patients. A program, called Dignity Therapy, encourages patients in hospice to work with a therapist to tell their life story. One of my early mentors, Bob Butler, championed the use of life review therapy and I learned quite a bit from him about the importance of using the end of life as a time to come to peace with the past.

From time to time I've toyed with the idea of being more formal in my use of writing with others--volunteering to write stories, working on my own stories, joining a writing group. I'm not sure where it will take me, but it will be fun to see.

http://www.npr.org/2011/09/12/140336146/for-the-dying-a-chance-to-rewrite-life

Happy New Year

One of the nicest things about teaching as a profession, especially college teaching is that you get to celebrate New Years several times a year. The past week was the first week of classes for the fall semester and the excitement and energy were palpable. The campus is busy, everyone is back in their offices, meeting schedules are circulating. The first day of class is a little anxiety producing for most professors. We hope we have remembered everything--copies of the syllabus, the class roster, our powerpoint slides. Inevitably we run into some snag--the copier jams, the projection screen won't drop down, our flash drive is corrupted. Still, we have a room full of (mostly) eager faces...at least on the first day. Some of those people will disappear, some new ones will arrive. In a few weeks we will all have settled into a routine, and the energy will disappear. Of course, round about the 3rd week of October, I will be singing a different tune. I will be sick and tired of teaching, lecturing, and grading...and the students will be tired, too. Then we will take a long breath and come back for a strong finish.

n-back training

I have had the latest issue of "Brain in the News" on my desk for a bit and finally got around to reading it. The thing that caught my interest was a report on something called "n back training." There has been a lot of interest in different types of brain training exercises. Most studies have found that they do nothing to stave off things like Alzheimer's disease, but can help with some types of cognitive processing. (there are are also arguments that they enhance quality of life in other ways, by providing mental stimulation that improves mood, but that is even less clear.)

The standard advice we hear about aging is to do things like work crossword puzzles, listen to music, or learn a new skill. The theory is that two things might happen in our brains. First, we might establish denser neural pathways so that when one path gets lost we have other paths available. Second, by continually accessing different regions of the brain they get "exercised" and the neural pathways don't get lost.

The exercise called n-back training is the only thing shown to actually improve the ability to reason and solve problems. It is difficult to explain, but basically you try to remember whether a specific cue occurred n times ago in a series. A simple example would be a mono 2-back series of letters...

A D A F Q R Q A F A

Here you would be expected to recognize that the second A came 2 times after the first, the second Q was repeated, and the last A a repeat from 2 back...Does that make sense? Most training is done with dual cues, both auditory and visual. Apparently, doing this exercise for 20 minutes a day for 20 days improves reasoning. I'm going to try it.

Here is a website...
http://www.soakyourhead.com/Default.aspx

Laptops in the classroom

I'm in the process of writing my fall syllabus. There are a few changes, for one, the University seems to have lost a class week, at least for me. Given the low attendance on the days before Thanksgiving, this year we will not have classes at all that week. I had to do a little rearranging to make my topics fit the new outline. I'm also working on changing/updating some assignments and readings.

But, my biggest consideration is how to handle laptops and cell phones in class. I've always had a pretty lenient policy. I don't really care what people do in class. I do get upset if they start to bother other people around them, talking, etc., but if someone is quietly doing a crossword puzzle I usually turned the other way. I guess part of it was thinking if they didn't think what I was saying was important enough to pay attention to then that was my fault, not theirs.

Now, though, laptops and cell phones have become problems. Laptops invite abuse. I know at scientific review panels that many reviewers are surfing the net, checking email, and updating their Facebook pages while we discuss grants. The temptation is great. With advanced cellphones the temptation to check email and text is even greater. Last semester I talked to my class about whether laptops should be banned and most said "yes" even those who were on their laptops at the time. I'm thinking I will try that policy for a few semesters--no laptops--and see what happens. Banning cell phones is harder, requires more monitoring (what are you doing with your hands under the desk, Tommy?) But, I will try to make a stricter statement.

I've never been good at really calling out kids in class. What has worked is for me to bring the problem to the class and discuss it, more of a shame approach I suppose.
I'll let you know how it goes.

Salon.com

Wow, I never expected that my submission to open.salon.com would get ANY attention, much less be chosen as an editor's pick. I have a few other stories ready to send off, so I'll do that over the next few months. I may try to take some of my blog entries here and revise them, too.

I was a little hesitant to put that much personal information out there, but decided that it was worth it. I wonder if the mix of feeling a little excited and exposed it what "real" artists and writers feel when showing their work or releasing their writing. I can see how that creative process can be a little scary--will people like it? will they understand? will they think I'm nuts??

What has been more surprising, and rewarding in a way I didn't expect, are the reactions and responses of others. Many women reply to me with a story of their own feelings of insecurity and uncertainty. I was surprised to see how my thoughts "connected" with others.

http://www.open.salon.com/blog/christine_himes/2011/07/23/transformations

Open Salon

So, I've gone out on a limb a bit and posted a story at open.salon.com. The post is called "Transformations" and is posted under my own name, Christine Himes. I'd like people to read it, commenting is even better, but not required. I'm trying to get more hits....

Shameless plug, I know!