Fibers and Fragments as February Begins

I am feeling anxious about all that I need to do today, even though I have plenty of time before my first commitment, my class on Luke that starts at 6:30.  In part the anxiety blossoms because of all that I didn't do yesterday--although I did write a short paper from start to finish to submission and did some reading and attended a mandatory student housing meeting.  I did not achieve my usual level of productivity because I spent much of the week-end in class, but my anxiety is taking no notice of that.

So, let me just collect a series of brief observations and captured Facebook posts and get on with the work of the day.

--Yesterday I was on The Chronicle of Higher Education website scrolling through job postings for English faculty, and I came across this posting for someone to teach quilting and fiber arts.  Why was this posting in the English section?  I have no idea.  But I did spend the rest of yesterday thinking about it.  There are all sorts of reasons why I'm not qualified.  The ideal candidate would have "Knowledge of African American, Latinx, or other quilting traditions outside of European and European-American traditions."  That's not me.  I don't have "Professional experience in fiber arts," although I have done more than just quilting, another wish of the department.  The ideal candidate needs to do hand sewing and machine sewing.  For most people, the hand sewing would be a deal breaker, but for me, the machine sewing is something I don't do.

--I am surprised by how many full-time jobs there are at Virginia community colleges.  Several of them are still within an easy drive of DC.  I am in the process of applying to them for a variety of reasons that I may blog about later.  I don't need additional part-time work, but a full-time job is attractive for many reasons.  I'd be willing to take fewer seminary classes if I had the stability and joy of a full-time faculty job.

--It's been the kind of week where I've had reminders of the joys of teaching.  On Tuesday, I made this Facebook post:  "We had a great Queer Theology class today. Even more interesting to me, I'm seeing works of Queer Theory referenced, and I'm thinking about reading some of them, like works by Judith Butler, when they first were published back in the 90's. But even more interesting, during that same decade, I was teaching David Henry Hwang's "\'M. Butterfly' in my first year Intro to Lit classes at a community college near Charleston, SC, and we were having fascinating discussions about gender fluidity, long ago and far away."

--I also saw a photo of some colleagues from that community college, colleagues who are still meeting for meals even though many of them have retired.  I left this comment:  "Some of the best colleagues and friends I've ever had."  In fact, many of the best friends I've ever had come from schools where I've been teaching and before that, from schools where I've been taking classes.

--I am not interested in any sort of academic administrator job.  Too much stress.

--Last week, I did some of my writing in the library.  I needed the page numbers for my Luther assignment, and the online version of the book didn't have them.  So I went to the library to use the reserve copy of the paper version of the Luther text.

--While there, I made this Facebook post:  "My seminary's library is small compared to the libraries at large research universities. There's a smell that's comforting and familiar, a smell I remember from undergraduate days in the library at Newberry College, the smell of old paper and the knowledge of the ages held in precious containers. Back to finishing my paper on Martin Luther's view of sacraments and the 'Pagan Servitude of the Church' (what a title! My paper will not have that kind of zinger of a title)."

--I wonder why John Dillenberger, the editor of the Luther text, didn't use the more common title of the essay:  "On the Babylonian Captivity of the Church."

--Our seminary apartment building has had the water turned off once a week for the last few weeks.  It's only for a few hours at a time, but it makes me conscious of needing to plan.  I fill up the empty gallon pitcher with water, and later, I use it to rinse.  So far, I've never needed it for a cup of tea or a drink or to flush.  Today is another outage, so let me go take a shower.