July 07, 2008

A Study in Venn Diagrams (or, why I'm not blogging)

The lack of blog activity is pretty simple, really.  I got nothin'.  Just nothin'.  The dissertation is taking all my energy and focus.  I'm on "vacation" from my job for a few weeks (this is a good thing) and I felt my energy and creativity returning being away from that daily grind, but the diss sucks those positive energies right up (I feel that I have to finish the dissertation in these three weeks, and you know, it's not gonna happen that fast).  OK, the diss is taking a lot of my energy and focus, but there are a few other things keeping me from writing in this space.  I'm missing my daughter like crazy.  I'm thinking about the upcoming job search, my current job, what I want for (and from) my life, and I'm stressing.  All that stress takes energy, too. 

This photo depicts my life at the moment.  All the yellow/orange circles (Christmas lights, by the way) represent areas of the dissertation I'm thinking about, writing on, researching, my daughter, my job.  The black area is just about everything else in my life.   It all overlaps.  But I'm blaming my lack of writing on the dissertation.

 

A_study_in_venn_diagrams
Photo is much cooler in a larger size.

 

I plan to do a few things to take care of myself while I'm on "vacation":

  • A massage next week (before I go back to work).
  • A few more minor-league baseball games.
  • A photo excursion on Saturday (a day trip somewhere).
  • A few afternoons at the pool.
  • A visit from the Bundle the last weekend of July.  :-)

July 02, 2008

Writing a Dissertation (old skool)

How I spent part of my afternoon, writing the literature review for the dissertation ... oldskool style.

June 25, 2008

Five Things I'm Grateful for Today

The point about "good things" (at least for me) is to push away all the negative thoughts and emotions (and there are lots of those these days).  So instead of moaning and groaning, five things I am grateful for today:

  • My daughter.  That she has grown up a smart, talented, generous, ethical, beautiful young woman.  She makes good choices, right decisions . . . decisions good and right for her and for what she wants from life.  (Raising her alone was so very hard, but I did good.  I did.)
  • My mother.  It's taken 15 months since her passing to realize that I came from her, that whatever I have accomplished is because of her, that whatever talent I possess, I received from her and my father.  Her role with me was not the same as my role with my daughter, but I am thankful for whatever it was that she gave me.  (I can't yet define it in positive terms.)
  • My photographic eye.  Without conscious thought, I took a photograph of three chairs at the Stockyards on Sunday morning.  It's an appropriate image for these past few days.  (My mother's ashes arrived the next day.)
  • My career. I'm not done there yet.  There is a place for me, a place that will accept (embrace) my talents and energies and my ability to see broadly, my ability to accept (embrace) difference, my ability to find new avenues, new spaces, new ways.
  • My future. I'm not done living life yet, either.  I know that.  I don't quite feel the excitement of the future today, but that's OK.  I know that it'll all be fine, that I'll be fine.  Ultimately.  I'll be able to forge a new life apart from being someone's mother.  I'll be able to use my strengths and passions in a way that will benefit other people.

And a bonus thing I'm thankful for today:

  • My bloggy friends.  I know that lately I've been a bit, um, negative about all that's going on, but I appreciate your kind words and your thoughtfulness more than I can express.  I'll be OK through these significant changes, and I'll be OK in large part because of you. 

June 23, 2008

RBOC: Punched in the Gut Edition

All I can muster are random bullets.  Events of the day have left me feeling as if I had been punched in the gut.  So, these are things I'd write more about if I had any energy: 


  • This summer cold just sucks.  I feel like crap.  Note to employees everywhere:  stay home if you are sick.  Do not infect your coworkers.  Step away from the office.

  • My mother's remains arrived today . . . . 15 months after her death . . .  . Since she had been so sick (of self-inflicted causes), we thought that willing her body to the local medical school would be the best course . . . that others might learn something from her and from what her body endured.  They learned quite a bit, apparently.  Or that's what the man at the "cell biology lab" told me this morning.  I had to go get the remains, sign for them, and bring them home.  Sister drama keeps us from doing anything with them today (which was my wish), but tomorrow night, we'll scatter them in a place that was important to my mother . . . a place near where my father is buried.
  • This just reminds me that both my parents are deceased.
  • Retrieving those remains has been, well, creepy.  Not creepy in a creepy sense, but creepy in a deeply sad (and kinda creepy) way.   I feel bad that it creeps me out some.
  • I don't know what pronoun to use when describing them (the remains), or her (my mother), or it (the box the ashes are in).
  • The box is small, actually.  But it's quite heavy for someone who was so small when she died.

  • The Bundle leaves for LA in six days (next Sunday).  At dinner tonight, I thought about her move and started to cry.  She laughed at me.
  • I talked a big talk a few weeks ago when I wrote that I'd be reinventing myself after her departure.  I'll probably just crawl up in a ball and moan.  As the day of her move approaches, I feel my stomach tighten.  I'm not sure I'll know what to do with myself when she's gone . . . except curl up in a big ball and moan.
  • Maybe the first week or so she's gone, that'll be a good time to go on a mini vacation somewhere . . . somewhere I've never been with her . . . start to form solo memories.
  • Anybody up for a houseguest for, say, oh, the next 20 years?  (just kidding)

Being caught between those two people -- my mother and my daughter -- is such an odd place to be.  For them both to be leaving this week (both literally). . . we'll it's hard.  Just hard.  I never realized how much I defined myself by my daughter ("I'm proud to be her mother!") or how I defined myself in spite of my mother ("I chose a different path in life.")   Those defining anchors are gone (or almost gone).  I don't know what to do.


Wow.  What a downer of a blog post.  I'm sorry.  I'll strive to write something a bit more uplifting later in the week.  You can, however, check the Twitter updates . . . as I update there several times a day . . . and they are generally more positive.  I'm mean, really:  how negative and depressing can one be in 140 characters?

June 20, 2008

A New Music Feature at PnP (week #1)

ETA:  I've fiddled with the box.net file, so to get it to work, you might need to refresh your browser.


I'm taking a cue from a blogger I've never met, but she's a friend of another blogger I've never met (but  like this guy quite a bit).  Music sharing.  I don't know how long I'll keep this going, but for a while I will share some of my music with you because they share their music with me.   Each week (or so), I'll upload about 12 songs that, at least for that week, have some significance for me.  If you like these songs, have at 'em.  If not, just move right along.   But in the spirit of sharing files with friends, files won't be available more than one week.  If you want them, get them now.

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Get your own Box.net widget and share anywhere!

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This week the AP Reading in Daytona Beach was exhausting, I received a disappointing decision concerning my job, and more and more and more dissertation work.   So, songs that are uplifting to me.  The lyrics are good in these songs, but what draws me in is usually the piano or the instrumentation.  The lone exception is the Alicia Keyes song.  I met someone this week who could be Keyes' sister . . . looks like her, talks like her, mannerisms like her.  So there you go.

June 19, 2008

Random Bullets (after the AP Reading)

The AP Reading was (again) an interesting experience, but I am worn out from it.  There are terrific educators there, and now that I've finished my third year, I have begun to know some folks, so I also know who to avoid (those negative teacher-types).   But all that said, I'm tired.  So a few random bullets today:

  • At one of the airports I've been to recently, the skycap's name was "Marvelous Lee."  Truly.  That was the name on his name badge.  I told him what a great name he had.  He thanked me.  Then put my luggage on the wrong plane ... at least he did it marvelously.
  • I let go of a trapeze the other day, but the second trapeze isn't coming my way as I thought it would.  At least not for a while.   So very disappointing and discouraging.  (Bootcampers know what this means.)
  • I had drinks and food (amazing scallops and calamari) then a very long walk with this blogger last week.  It's so great to meet bloggers face-to-face, and this one is so fun and smart.
  • I love it when other bloggers ask me about the Bundle. 
  • Speaking of the Bundle:  she's out of town at a national convention for her field.  She'll be back about four days before she moves out of state. 
  • Maybe that's why (along with the fatigue and the missed second trapeze) I'm feeling so discouraged.  Maybe.
  • I changed my blog header today.
  • And with that:  I've got nothing else to say.

Chapter Word Clouds (Wordle Image)

Krista and Collin wrote about Wordle last week, but I'm just now getting back to the dissertation.  So, my case study chapter in a word cloud:

Case_study_word_cloud_4

Click image to embiggen.

I do like this type of "seeing" of the dissertation work.  My point in this dissertation is students and their writing; the fact that the students are student-athletes is important, but it's not the primary focus of the work.

Ok, a few more below the jump.

 

Continue reading "Chapter Word Clouds (Wordle Image)" »

June 12, 2008

RBOC: AP Reading Edition

I'm surrounded by words all day long.  Truly.  All. Day. Long.  And most of those words, well, they are perfectly fine words and all, but they are not strung together very well because they were produced by 16-year old high school students under some tough conditions, so I produce random bullets.


  • Florida is gorgeous.  The beach is gorgeous, that is.  I don't care about the rest of the place.  I want to live on the beach and be a beach bum.  Get a metal detector and look for treasure.  Drink beer.  Play in the waves.  Listen to beach music.  Drink more beer.  I'd be so happy.  I could get a Ph.D. in beach bum-ology.
  • There are some wonderful people here at this reading.  By this third year, I've come to know some folks, and it's a "same time next year" sort of thing.  We pick up where we left off last summer.  Kinda nice.  Although.  There is a "Same Time Next Year" thing that goes on here, but that's not what I meant. 
  • Seeing a bunch of middle-aged English teachers/professors frolicking in the ocean is pretty damn funny.  Pics tomorrow.
  • I am always surprised at the kinds of high school teachers I meet here.  Some are just terrific, and I'm sure they are wonderful teachers.  There are others, however.  I do hope that those horribly racist and classist comments they make are just because they are tired and their defenses are down.  Truly. 
  • I'm planning to write more about this at a later date, but it's important to remember (for me to remember, at least) that when I'm surrounded by so many teachers, to stay away from the negative ones.  Stay out of the Teachers' Lounge. 
  • I'm still wishing that dissertation would just write itself.  I'd let it hang out on the beach with me and everything.
  • Because the sunrise here is so very gorgeous, I took some wonderful photos the last few mornings.
  • Walking on the beach at 6:00 a.m. is pretty damn sweet.  Too bad my knee still hurts.  I'd try running.  Walking is good, though.
  • I have a great roommate who doesn't mind that I turn the air conditioning down to about 67 at night.  I'm lucky.

June 03, 2008

Professionalism = Silence = Professionalism?

A question for the Internets:  When does silence equal professionalism?


  • If you have been around academia for any length of time, you have probably heard someone utter these words (or maybe you have said them yourself):  "I can't say anything [about whatever subject] because I don't have tenure."
  • You might have worked with someone who is not a good teacher (skips class, doesn't "teach" the material, gives juicy grades for little or no work), but when asked about this person's teaching qualifications/abilities, no one mentions the truth.  "He's fine," or "Students really like him" become the standard answers to ability questions.  To speak the truth would be "unprofessional."
  • Perhaps you have worked with someone who is engaged in some illegal / immoral activity.  She could (potentially) be harming others, children/minors even.  Do you mention something to someone, or do you stay silent as it's "not your business"?  To get involved in another's affairs, would that be "unprofessional"?

These are not indicative of anyone I know personally; these are generalized examples of silence in the academic profession.  Surely there are dozens and dozens more examples that we have experienced in our professional lives.

The dilemma remains the same, however:  by not saying anything, by being silent when we see injustice or illegal or just plain wrong, are we being "professional"?  Or, when does silence equal professionalism?


I'm seriously looking for an answer to that question.  It seems to me that if we are silent in the face of wrong (however that's defined), we are being anything BUT professional, and we become inadequate models to the young people we encounter.   But that's just me, perhaps.   To be clear, however, I'm not just writing about the pettiness that comes in workplaces.  There are issues, then there are bigger issues.  I'm concerned about the serious issues that we tend to ignore under the guise of "professionalism." 

If you have an opinion, please leave your comments below. 

An Open Note to Someone I Know

When the nonprofit organization conducted writing workshops at the battered women's shelter over that three-year period, I learned a lot about the dynamics of abuse and the balances of power in relationships.   I learned about fault and blame and responsibility, about active and passive participation, and about the roles we assume in relationships.   

In an abusive situation, when someone is hurt (physically, emotionally, sexually), we want to cast blame, and it is easy to blame the abuser.  He (usually, and in the vast majority of cases at this particular women's shelter) is worthy of that blame. In his own insecurity and fear, he acts out and against the one he considers to be weak.  And that is usually you.

But you are not weak. 

You do not deserve to be hurt (even though he tells you it's your fault).  When he says, "If you wouldn't do this, I wouldn't have to do that," he's blaming you for his abusive behavior.  It's not your fault.

  • No one deserves to be abused, hurt, or degraded.
  • No one deserves implicit or explicit threats. 
  • No one deserves to be treated as if she has no value.
  • We all have value.
  • We all deserve to be treated with respect.
  • We all need a safe and secure environment in which to work and live.

But the other aspect of this abusive environment is one of responsibility.  Abusers have responsibility, to be sure, but we can't change them, and we can't make them accept responsibility for their deplorable actions.  The abuser must change himself.  But first, he must recognize he needs to change.  You, however, don't have to wait around until he figures it out, until he stops his unacceptable behavior.  On the other hand, you do have control over yourself (even if he insists that you don't).  You can take responsibility for what happens in your life. 

I see all the time women who do not leave abusive situations because they are fearful . . . how will they care for their children, how will they get a job when they have few skills, how will they survive without money.  These individuals don't even attempt to leave because they have been beaten down so frequently by the abuser and told (among other things) that no one else would want them, that they will fail, that they can't trust anyone else (but the abuser).  Imagine the dogs in Martin Seligman's "learned helpless" model.  The dogs were shocked so many times by the electrodes connected to the floor of their cages that they stopped trying to get away; they huddled in corners of their cages and accepted the painful shocks. You know this model. 

You know the model, but you are not like the dogs in Seligman's experiments.

You don't have to worry about the children any longer.  You have skills (lots of them, in fact).   And you have value.  You have value to those who are around you, those who see you for you are and for what you can contribute.  He can't see it; he probably will never see it.  Who cares what he sees and what he doesn't?   He is not the measure of what's good for you.  It's time to move on.  What do you want?  What do you see in your future? 

Take that step today, that step that will move you away from abuse and toward autonomy, away from his definition of who you are to your own definition.  It's your life.  This move will be scary.  It'll be stressful.  But you can do it. 

You can do it. 

June 02, 2008

RBOC: Trying to get caught up edition

For several days, I have thought about things I wanted to write about in this space, but there hasn't been time.  Instead, a quick list of bullets -- some of which will be explored later this week in longer blog posts.

  • Project 365(+1):  I'm tired of Project 365, and I think often about quitting.  I completed the project last year, and I'm half-way through the project for this year.  To date, that's 516 days of posting photographs on line.  But as any of you who are also engaged in this work know, it's more than "just" 516 photos.  I've easily taken four times that amount . . . I just post a photo each day that has a specific argument (or it's one that I particularly like).  I don't just take one photo a day and post that one photo.  Time and thought go into these photographs.  I think about quitting though as it's a whole lotta work.  Yes, it's work.  That is, I think about quitting this project until I see the photographs from the last five days.   These photographs are not technically great photos, but they show significance of space and time.  Our world is filled with these moments, these differences, the happenings.  While I'm tired, I will continue to document my little corner of the world.

  • Trapeze Artists and Life Changes:  The last time I was thinking about a significant life change, a friend told me to think about trapeze artists.  The trapeze artist, he said, has to be willing to let go of the trapeze she's on in order to catch the next one coming her way.  In other words, she can't hold on to one while waiting on the other.  She has to be willing to free fall for a few seconds before that next trapeze comes to her.  How scary that thought was at the time.  How scary it is again today.  Yet, I'm willing to let go of the trapeze to catch the next one, to catch that next segment of my life.   I'm ready today.

  • The Dissertation:  I'm frustrated with lack of feedback.  I'm not sure if they (the committee) are just letting me skate on through (by not offering suggestions for change), if they really don't think my work needs much revision (ha!), or if they are just not interested.

  • Female Referees and Sexism:  This will be a longer post as it's something I've been thinking about for months, but there is a significant reason that there are not many female referees:  Sexism.

  • The Bundle:  This will also be a longer post in a few days (I'm still processing info), but we traveled to the next state over last week and found her a place to live, met her colleagues, and just took a look at the town.  She's moving there the end of June.  This new town is very different from what she has experienced here.  For me, this is a very very very good thing.   For her, she's not so sure.  She has, though, been spoiled to think that all universities have beautiful landscaping, carpeted classroom floors, new furniture, a mega-chain-store bookstore that sells Starbucks coffee . . .    There is much more to this, but she's about to experience a culture change . . . and she needs to know that the majority of folks in the world do not drive the nicest cars, wear the most current fashions, or have housekeepers.  

May 27, 2008

A Potential Explanation (for some recent events)

My daughter moves to another state in 34 days.

Yep.  I think that's a lot of the recent emotions.  I typed that line then burst into tears.  Yep.  That's it.  She's leaving in 34 days.  I'm proud of her.  I'm happy for her.  She's ready to go.  I'm ready for her to go.  Yet, she's going.  And I don't quite know what to do with myself.  While I have worked and gone to school, I have devoted the last many years (all her years) to her growth and development.

Yes, yes, yea, I'll reinvent myself when she leaves.  I'll finish the dissertation.  I'll become a cougar.*  All that sounds easy enough.  But in 34 days, she'll be gone.

(*)  Just kidding people, just kidding.

May 26, 2008

The Bitch is Back (a response to comments)

This is a post in response to something I wrote yesterday, "The Bitch is Back (and that, apparently, is me)."  If you did not read that post, you might want to (click here) as it provides the context for what follows.


First, I appreciate your comments on the blog and through email.  I know that I didn't need any validation from the "incident" yesterday, but you have given me that anyway and I appreciate it.  It's good to know that I'm not alone in the experiencing what I experienced.  Thank you.

What I didn't elaborate on specifically in the original post below is that the rude "the-rules-don't-apply-to-me" behavior happens ALL THE TIME in this particular area.  All the time.  All.The.Time.  I had spent that particular day working pretty hard at being "nice" to others, ignoring their lack of awareness (of other people) . . . or at least striving to get along with them, around them.  Most people did the same.  Most people, but not all people.  By the time I had the altercation with the rude woman, I was fed up with that rude/self-absorbed behavior.  I work hard at trying to be civil . . . I have my moments when civility takes a brief vacation . . . , but I do try.  :-)

However, after getting into my car from the altercation with the husband, I started to cry.  These were not just tears of anger or fear . . . but deep sobs.  My spirit felt bruised and battered.  Battered.  Even today, when I retold this story to my sister, I started to cry.  This blog is not the time or place to explain my past, but the past was absolutely present in that encounter.  In retrospect, I felt ignored, unseen, and devalued by the experience ... the experience with the woman, to be sure, but more significantly, the experience with her husband.

I don't need some man to step in a defend me through this life -- I'm perfectly capable taking care of myself -- but I wondered driving home that afternoon what it was about me that said to that husband that could treat me as he did (under the guise of defending his wife).  I was reminded of all those years and all those experiences we, as women (typically) have to endure (just take a look at the Sexism video posted below, if you are unsure what I mean by what women have to endure sometimes).  We apologize to keep the man happy, to keep the peace, to avoid confrontation, to not bruise his ego, to perpetuate the myth that everything is OK.  I did that yesterday.  I apologize to just make him leave me alone.   I was angry with myself for apologizing to him.  I betrayed myself by apologizing.  I knew it when I did it.  Yet, I didn't want to be in a confrontation with a strange man in the middle of a parking lot over something relatively inane. 

While I don't need a defender, I drove home wondering what was wrong with me that there was no one there supporting me.  I walked away from that encounter feeling even more invisible, even more vulnerable, and even more alone.


But this my friends is what the survivorship of abuse looks like.  For those of you dear readers who have been in an abusive marriage, or in a workplace with an abusive boss, or in an abusive familial situation, you know the truth I state here:   we pretend the abuse doesn't happen, that it didn't happen.  We take on the responsibility when we are not responsible.  We know that others will blame us for the problems . . . because they always do, we assume (because that's what we've been told).  We apologize for being hurt, for being abused.  We wonder, "what's the use in fighting?"

Elle has a great post up today about "Open Secrets" and how families deal with them.   Read it.  It's that good.


This subject has gotten off subject.   I'm ready to move on to another subject, but I'm reminded of what the husband said to me, "you have no way of knowing what she's going through."  Yes, he was right.  I didn't know.  But you know what?  He had no idea what I had been through.

May 25, 2008

The Bitch is Back (and that, apparently, would be me)

I live in an area of town where there is not much economic diversity (sadly, that also includes a lack of racial diversity and gender diversity).  I live around people who are not wealthy in that mega-money sense, but these are people who-- presumably-- come from parents who worked themselves into comfort.  Many of the people in my part of town were born into that comfort; many did not strive to achieve it for themselves.  They are comfortable.

These are people who go to college . . . many men attend for some sort of business degree and many women for the M.R.S. degree.  These are fairly traditionally-minded, conservative folks.  They marry, have children, and live seemingly happy lives.   They drive SUVs, they live in gated communities, their children attend private schools.  The men have professional careers and the women stay home to rear their children . . .  These folks work hard, it seems, at separating themselves from the rest of our culture, our society.

Now, I'm not criticizing conservative and traditionally-minded folks.  They are what they are.  But they are (by and large)(at least in this area) folks who don't think rules apply to them, you know, the rules that the rest of us live by.   And I have a problem with that.  Some of these rules are relatively minor (cutting in line at Starbucks) and some are more serious (speeding down a residential street in a massively large SUV while texting on a cell phone and "multitasking" in a number of other ways).  Some of these actions are illegal, immoral, and unethical, but that's a post for another day.   

[Yes, I'm overgeneralizing, but stick with me ... it'll make sense in a minute ... I'm setting the stage, painting a picture.  I could provide examples upon examples of what I've witnessed, and I've also actually had female students say in class (out loud) that they were in school to find a husband ... but back to the story.]


Continue reading "The Bitch is Back (and that, apparently, would be me)" »

Sexism may sell, but we're not buying it

Got this from Abby via Meagan.  Abby said it makes her sad and furious at the same time.  This just makes me furious, and it makes me want change.  Hard change.

Edited to add:  I visited the website, Women's Media Center, and learned much more about their work and we (all) can take our anger at such blatant displays of sexism and hatred and do something.   At the Women's Media Center website, I also stumbled upon Media Matters for America.  This is another site that researches, monitors, analyzes and corrects conservative misinformation the in U.S. media (paraphrased from their site).  Both of these sites link to other sites and resources and they each have ways that we can get involved.  Please visit the links. 

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