Learning Curves

Last week I attended an interesting lecture on urban education.  One speaker in particular caught my attention when he talked about learning curves.  We usually think of the learning curve as a steadily upward rising curve, the more time and effort expended, the greater the sense of mastery.  Like this:




Now, it is not usually a straight line.  Sometimes the initial phase will be steep, followed by a slower increase, some times the initial phase will be shallow, followed by a steep in increase.  But, in this formulation the relationship between effort and mastery is always positive.

What this panelist pointed out was that often the learning curve looks more like this:


There is initial learning, followed by a dip, a period where you feel like you know LESS than when you started. He talked about this as being a period of "unlearning,"  a time when you need to reexamine preconceived notions and ideas, where you need to see new relationships and abandon old ideas.  The world doesn't work the way you thought it did.

The problem is that during this time you will feel vulnerable. You feel lost, unsure, and afraid.  If you aren't in a supportive environment you may never get through that stage. You give up. You feel defeated.  The subject is "too hard."  Good teachers/leaders/mentors can help.

I think this concept applies to so many situations in life, from learning a new language to learning a new way of thinking about yourself.  Being aware of those moments of vulnerability, and supporting others through them, seems to be one of the best ways to be a friend.

Magical Wardrobes

I've been thinking about wardrobes a lot lately, not my own wardrobe of clothes, but those magical pieces of furniture that seem to feature prominently in fairy tales and English stories.  The most famous must be C.S. Lewis' "The Lion, The Witch, and The Wardrobe,"  but they seem to pop up in lots of stories, Harry Potter included.




Why are wardrobes so much more appealing than closets as story elements?  I've never had a wardrobe, but I do remember playing in my closet as a kid. Is it only historical? Older homes didn't have closets, so wardrobes were needed.  But, what is it about them that makes them such strong characters?

Maybe they allow a safe place for imagination to take hold.  They are dark and mysterious, they are hiding places, they are filled with an odd assortment of stuff--old shoes, fur coats, silk dresses.

                                                                        


In wardrobes you can retreat to the womb, wrap yourself in a safe, warm, dark place.  In a small enclosed space you can hide from fears.  Wardrobes always seem so much bigger in stories, whole legions of children fit inside of them, but I've never seen one that big in real life.

But why don't closets hold the same magic?  Stories seem to use closets as places for punishment, where an adult puts a child, not where a child goes willingly. Maybe closets are too modern to be magical, too mundane and ordinary.

There are days I wish I had a wardrobe....
                                                                                                

Late night at the rest stop

I'm quite familiar with the highway rest areas in New York, Ohio, Indiana, and Illinois.  Over the
years I've probably been in every one across the stretch of I-90 crossing those states.  I've seen them remodeled and refurbished, the food options expand, the restrooms improve.  Inside they represent a microcosm of American society.  At any time you will meet people from different ethnic groups all anxious for at least one of three things--a toilet, food, or gas.  Like Maslow's hierarchy of needs, the rest stop places us all at our most basic level.

The rest stop late at night is a different scene.  The diversity is the same, but the groggy faces convey the exhaustion of late night travel.  Small children stumble in their half awake state.  Mothers ask for hot water at McDonald's to warm bottles.  Hyped up toddlers race around or collapse in tears.  Rest stops are not usually places for fun and games, but at midnight there are few smiles.  I wonder why these people are traveling at this time.  Is it a jump start on vacation?  Easier traveling while children sleep?  Emergency trips or last minute plans?


                                                                             

How to live with gray hair, 12 easy steps

To help out those late to the gray hair trend, I've prepared this list.

1. Start young.  If you start getting gray hair when you are young, you have a long time to get used to the idea that you are aging.  You have a jump start on other women.  By starting young, you can gradually get used to the idea that you will go gray, then you will die.  Facing this at 25 is easier than at 85.

2. Decide on what you will call your hair—gray, grey, white, silver.

3. Be frugal.  If you are frugal you will decide early on that you will be spending a small fortune over your lifetime if you start dying your hair. If you are gray young (see #1) then you are facing as many as 60 years of hair coloring.  This could start with “highlights” to blend in the gray, then progress to dying.  You will need to touch up your roots.  You will need to make decisions about changing colors.  And, if you ever decide to stop, you will need to deal with the growing out period.

4. Use purple shampoo. Always.

5. Be prepared for compliments.  Younger women (under 70) with gray hair will be stopped.  You may receive compliments when you are walking in the mall.  You may have men stop you on the street to comment on your hair.  You may have women roughly your age, standing behind you on the jetway, tap you on the shoulder and whisper, “I just have to tell you your hair is gorgeous.” You may have women interrupt your podcast listening on the commuter train to ask you about your hair.

6. Be prepared for being mistaken for your child’s grandmother (by adults).  If you are gray young (see #1) and have your children late, you may be mistaken for a grandmother. Shopping clerks may say, “Oh, how nice. Grandma has the baby today!”  They may ask, “How old is your grandson?”

7. Be prepared for being mistaken for your child’s grandmother (by children).  When you take your child to kindergarten, another child may say, “Are you Evan’s Grandma?”

8. Use purple conditioner. Always.

9. Enjoy the discomfort of clerks who try to decide whether or not to offer you a senior discount.  Watch them squirm—is it better to err on the side of offending by asking or not asking?

10. Be prepared for women to say, “I wish my gray hair looked like that.”  Truth is, most of them have NO IDEA what their gray hair looks like (see #3, re: coloring).

11. Learn to be assertive.  When you have gray hair and think it might be fun to have a pink streak and go to the beauty store looking for temporary color and the clerk shows you to the root touch up products rather than the fun-glo pink you are looking for, correct her.

12. Enjoy the benefit of young men (sometimes) offering you a seat on the L.

What I weigh

The first time it happened I was buying a Christmas tree. Standing in a rural Pennsylvania field, the farmer pulled off his work glove and extended his calloused hand, “I’ve never shaken hands with a professor before.”

The last time it happened was Friday.  Sitting in a meeting miles away from the office, I sent an encouraging email to a faculty member struggling to maintain control of a committee.  He replied, “Thanks, Chris. I needed that.”

How did my word, my mere presence, get this power?  I can impress and encourage, scold and rebuke.  But, I am nobody. I am not different or better or smarter.  I can’t sing very well, draw, or paint. I am terrible at remembering names. I always, always burn garlic toast in the broiler.

It did get me thinking about the weight we assign to things in our lives. The weight attached to words and actions.  I'm like everyone else, I imagine. I enjoy hearing words of praise from others and words of criticism can cut sharply. I put my trust in the experience and wisdom of physicians, realtors, and hair stylists. Realizing that others are trusting my experience and wisdom gives me pause. What I do and say matters to others, affects them either positively or negatively. My words have weight, which makes me think I need to weigh each one carefully. 

   

                                          

Christine Lagarde, Part II

When I wrote four years ago that I had a crush on Christine Lagarde (http://profhimes.blogspot.com/2011/07/christine-lagarde.html)  never in my wildest dreams did I ever imagine I would meet her.

Yesterday I did. And, if possible, I am even more in love.

She was the commencement speaker this year for my university.  Her son was graduating and she was hear to celebrate him and to deliver an address.  The evening before commencement she attended a small dinner, honoring the honorary degree recipients and commencement speakers.  I was there.  Not because of her, but because luckily one of the honorary degree recipients this year had been nominated by my college.

After dinner I summoned the courage to go over and introduce myself.  I told her who I was and she said, "I love your hair."  I then joked that I had offered to fill in for her if she couldn't be here--both Christine's, same hair, nobody would notice.  We laughed.  I told her I had long admired her and her insights on women in leadership.  She said she would be including some remarks about that in her address, "After all," she said, "if not me, than who?" She mentioned that she had recently been on a panel with Janet Yellen and they had commented at the beginning that if they heard any statements about their hair and they were walking out.

I had someone snap a photo and I floated home.

Not that kind of woman...

I've found that there is a certain assumption made about me as a single woman in academia by other female academics...that I am a liberal feminist thinker.  I'm not. I'm a liberal. I'm a feminist. I'm a thinker.  But not all those things put together.  I don't want to spend my evenings discussing  patriarchy and oppression. I'm not well-versed in the theories of feminist thought. I believe everyone's work should be valued and I understand that has not always been the case. I am grateful for women who were willing to stand up for their rights and I will fight for mine.  But, I'm not interested in talking about it endlessly with other women. I'm not interested in identifying all the ways I've been slighted or diminished or made invisible. I have my stories, from time to time I share them, but I also believe that there are many men who truly would be more understanding and thoughtful if they didn't feel every move they made or word they said was being judged and weighed.