You have arrived

We have a new GPS system for the car. We had one last year, but it was stolen this summer. So, now instead of Jill from Garmin we have "Ferdinanne" Magellan. She is quite good company and so far has not led us astray. (well, if we don't count the little detour to Arthur Treacher's, which really wasn't her fault at all.) One of her most endearing features is the pronouncement, as you draw near your destination that "You have arrived."

What a comforting thought, to have arrived. Arrived at your destination or your destiny. There are many things in life that proclaim "you have arrived." A new luxury car, a new designer home, a new office at work. Throughout life we arrive, arrive at new destinations and new positions, new places of understanding and new places of geography. We are urged to think of the journey, not the destination. I understand the appeal of that, the enjoyment of the process. But I think we can also take some pride in our arrivals, the completions of our journeys. To have arrived, even if temporarily, even if only at a stopping point along the route, is something in which we can take some delight.

End of the Semester

Classes are over and the papers are coming in. It is always a somewhat bittersweet time. I'm happy to have a break from the weekly lecture preparation. I'm not so happy to have a stack of 90 papers in my office that need to be read. What I really miss, however, are the students. I like most of my students. I enjoy seeing them, watching their expressions, listening to their thoughts. It is hard for me to remember those seats, that view. The classroom looks very different from the front. Instead of the backs of heads, I see faces. I see those who are sleeping, daydreaming, texting, doing crossword puzzles...oh, and I see the few that are listening. I don't blame them. I was the same in college (well, except for the texting part).

But I do miss hearing about what happens to them in the next semester or year or after graduation. I get sort of attached to them, even if we only see each other a few hours a week and have little conversation. I still know who is getting good grades and who is not, who is late every week and who sits in the corner. I see the changing hair and clothing styles. I've always had a dream of having a couple meet in one of my classes, but as far as I know that has never happened!

So, to my 90 students this semester, Fall 09, I wish you the best. I hope some of you will keep in touch.

Disability--social versus medical

I attended a small conference today that was designed to increase discussions that could help bridge the humanities and science. The focus of the discussion was on "disability" and was primarily attended by physicians and faculty who teach the humanities in medical schools. So, for the sociology students who stumble onto this site, you should be familiar with the idea of social construction; that society defines social groups and roles--gender, race, disability--according to a set of shifting criteria. We all participate in reinforcing these categorizations by using them in our own lives, teaching them to our children or students, and, often, through formal (legal) definitions. Disability, it seems, has been largely co-opted by a medical model, or set of criteria. People who deviate (another good sociological term) from the "norm" are disabled. The disability could be mental or physical. The medical model looks at disability as a problem, one that can be fixed (sometimes) or managed. The medical model emphasizes cure, defined as removing the problem. In contrast, sociology views disability as a failure of the environment to adapt to the different needs of those with differences

One of the goals of the discussion is to make physicians more empathetic, to have them look at patients not as disabled, but as people first. However, as one discussant pointed out, we still live in a policy world dominated by the medical model. Insurance, social benefits, and all kinds of things are dependent on one being labeled as disabled by a physician. What good does it do to sensitize physicians if we then ask them to turn around and complete the bureaucratic documentation. Are both parties complicit in the perpetuation of the label?

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?